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Star Wars: A Galaxy In Flames

Star Wars

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a part of Star Wars: A Galaxy In Flames, by Tylerjohnny1.

None

Tylerjohnny1 holds sovereignty over Star Wars, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

565 readers have been here.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/main_page

Setting

Default Location for Star Wars: A Galaxy In Flames
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Star Wars

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Minimap

Star Wars is a part of Star Wars: A Galaxy In Flames.

11 Characters Here

Edar Xann [50] "The emperor's will is my own, as is his glory!"
Rift Kilbaine [49] "There is no such thing as a good man, for good is just a mask that men hide behind."
Davern Korosnos [47] "Fight the good fight, eh? Fight any fight, is a better policy."
Koda'Rai [44] In war, there is never a winner.
Ati Jendrassi [40] Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. -- Train your sons to be strong, your daughters to be stronger.
IG-136/59 [34] "Query: Why am I here? Query: Why must I get all the lower assignemnts? Query: Why haven't you installed a new voice processor yet, you cheap meatbag bastard?"
Shikle Sevii [32] "The soup calls to me."
Chek [31] Currently working for the Empire. "I point at things and they explode, I should bring air support more often."
Zekk [17] "You know..... I can't escape the feeling that somewhere, someway, there's a certain wookie laughing his ass off right now......"
Chogna [8] ( "Don't strain your neck looking down. You're going to be in enough pain in just a second." )

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Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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Ati selects a likely piece of debris to sit on for a better angle. With a sigh, a raised hand, and the pop of a seal, she removes the gray-blue helmet with the starburst on its left side. All the better to bite down on a loose gearstrap. She's younger than her situational acumen might suggest, with feathered black hair framing a smooth face and sharp blue eyes that watch Koda'rai with unblinking, predatory intensity. She offers her arm gingerly, with a nod of permission, and watches his tail coil around the swollen joint between her forearm and bicep armor.

"I've been called worse. Ati. My name is Ati Jendrassi." She speaks around the strap in her teeth, "It occurs that I probably should ask if you're familiar with human ana-AUGH!!"

With a sickening click-pop, the bones in her arm realign, and the Mandalorian doubles briefly to hiss gutteral curses in a variety of languages. She straightens as Koda finishes lashing the makeshift splint materials. The sturdy armor above and below it make that an easier task. Tossing the strap aside, she pulls her helmet firmly back onto her head. She wasn't some superhuman immune to the pain by a long shot, she was just possessed of the discipline to tolerate it without breaking down into a useless, weeping pile.

Besides. It wasn't the first time that particular set of bones had been busted. Truth told, the crash had done it cleaner than the Rallymaster's sparring circle.

Flexing her fingers experimentally, she stands and nods one at Koda'rai, "Vor'e. Thanks."

The droid makes his proclamation about taking their sweet time, and she wonders vaguely what he -did- with the credits of his missions. Kept collecting them like a machine high score? But at least he'd gotten the tank and even some scrap metal to drag it on. It would slow their progress, but without water the human occupants of the wreck wouldn't make it more than day or two in this heat.

"The others aren't back from the bow yet. I'm wondering if that means they found something, or they're busy shooting holes in one another."

She muses on that, looking over the debris-strewn dunes towards the crushed forward half of the ship. To be brutally honest with herself, a few less murderous Aruetii to worry about on the trip wouldn't be a bad thing for her own survival chances.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii
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------

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine
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Edar Xann was watching eagerly as the mandalorian was pushed back with a strong clanking sound, followed by a grunt that echoed throughout the ship. The mando's motion backwards was interrupted by a sharp fall down the stairs, shades of his blue armor blurring with the grey durasteel, appearing as a kaleidoscope of joy through Edar's eyes. He chuckled "Next time watch your surroundings Mandalorian-" as if from the depths of hell itself, Davern and Rift bursted out of the staircase. Through Edar's eyes all he saw was a fist drawing closer, soon after, bleak stars dotted his sight from having his brain smashed against his skull rather forcefully.

Edar was trying to grasp the situation, when suddenly yet another vicious punch thrashed his head, echoing through his helmet potently. Blackness was covering his vision, as just a small trace of vision remained in front of him- needles to say there was not much to appreciate, as durasteel's complexity is not exactly baroque material, as much as it may have seemed beautiful to Edar after being head concussioned a couple of times-. He growled in pain and anger, and immediately tried to defend himself, hurling a wild stray punch, trying to hit whatever he could reach. Rift ducked, the punch whistling through the air, grabbed him by the throat and tossed him into the stairs.

The shapes and colors of the world around him seemed to blend in a single hurricane of madness, ushered by the metal clank of his armor impacting the durasteel of the stairs. He groaned in agony, and barked to the two warriors who had attacked him "By the emperor! You have made a terrible mistake! Attacking an imperial representative is not something that is ever forgotten by the imperial machine!" He then felt a vigorous punch smash the backside of his plate armor. He released another cry of genuine torment. At this point, his vision was blurred, blackened and starry, but he caught glimpse of a reptile like creature violently releasing his wrath onto him, thrashing wildly again, and again, and again. He felt jolting pain all throughout his body, followed by the booming sounds of blows landing on his armor. Edar was unable to withstand such punishment, and thus he blacked out soon after.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine
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As soon as Edar was thrown down the stairs, Rift cooled down. His fists unclenched slowly, and his face relaxed. The Imperial was trying to get up, but seemed to be almost fading in and out of consciousnesses. The mandalorian was standing behind him still, cracking his knuckles. Rift could tell that he had an evil smile encompassing his face, like all the other bastard mandalorians. Rift just now realized, he had helped a mandalorian. My father is rolling over in his grave right now. Now he wanted to do the same thing to the mandalorian that he did to the Imperial. He was ready to draw Adenn, but he knew any more violence, especially with a damned mandalorian, would cause a war among all of the group. For now, he needed to keep the peace as long as possible. If violence had to be stopped with violence, he wouldn't exactly cry about it, but he knew it wasn't the best idea in the situation.

Just then, the mandalorian started to head past Rift, obviously with violent intentions for the Imperial. "Hey, he's had enough." The mandalorian completely ignored him and continued heading down. "Hey!". Once again, the mandalorian ignored him. He sprinted down the stairs after the mando, yelling at him in a strained voice, "Mandalorian scum..". He slammed his forearm into the side of the mandalorian's neck, pinning him against the wall the stairs run along. The mandalorian then pushed Rift back, with them now at a stalemate in the center of the stairs. Davern freed his right hand and swung straight for Rift's face, still pushing. Rift ripped his left arm away at the same time from the struggle and caught the mandalorian's first mid-punch. Rift then freed his right arm and his hand lunged forward towards the Mandalorian's throat. The mandalorian, in turn, used his other hand to catch Rift's wrist. They were now at a total stalemate, glaring at each other.

But before any other actions could be taken by the two rivals, the Imperial started to bark at them, which was stopped short by some kind of random beating. The assailant of the Imperial was huge, and was wailing on the Imperial. Rift and the mandalorian looked down at the assault, then back to each other for an awkward, "What the fuck" moment.

Rift let go and darted down the stairs, trying to understand what was going on. He couldn't wrap his head around the occurrence. How the... It was some kind of trandoshan, swinging wildly and yelling about the dark and some wookie. Rift ran over and grabbed Edar's arm, pulling him away from the crazed trandoshan. Rift was unaware if he had dislocated his arm in the process, but with some luck, he may not have.

He looked over at the trandoshan after getting Edar to safety. "What the hell are you..". Rift noticed that he was thrashing around with no regard of what was around him. He started yelling to be heard over the trandoshan's ranting, "Stop! Listen! You Are Ok! You're Blinded, And As Hard As It May Seam, You Need to Calm Down! You're On Tatooine!"

With that, Rift waited to see if he would calm down, because if he didn't, Rift was going to end his suffering.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine
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Davern was growling as he tussled with Rift, as if it were the beginning of a small power struggle between the two. However, again they were cut off and Rift was diving back down the stairs. The Mandalorian followed after and couldn't help but grin at the sight. The Imperial being thrashed around like a Rodian in a sarlacc pit by a lizard, a Trandoshan to be exact, an ugly mother fucker in short. Rift was already yelling at it after dragging Edar away from it like a dying tauntaun cub being gutted by a wampa. Why not let him die? He deserves it, plus, the damn lizard needs to eat.

Davern shrugged and decided to help regardless, it may earn him with some respect with Rift which could mean life or death at this moment. Davern lunged, grabbing the lizard quickly and smashing him into a wall by the throat. Zekk screeched and flailed before a attempting to bite down on Davern's helm, a gratting noise of teeth on steel was heard as the teeth barely missed their mark causing large scratches down the top of the paint. Before a heavy kick slammed the Chiss in the gut, sending him flying backwards across the room.

Rift watched this unfold, an eyebrow raised the whole time. He scratched his head. "You know, he was just calming down". Edar let out a long moan in his unconscious state. Rift nonchalantly kicked him in the side, then shook his head.

Finally exhausted in the attempt to capture the creature through hand-to-hand means Davern pulled out both of his pistols and fired several shots at the ceiling above Zekk's head with loud, simultaneous cackles of ionized particle energy. Effectively collapsing the floor of the section above said lizard-beast. There was a loud crashing noise and some scratching and flailing before all went silent and still. "That's how you pacify a bantha-mating-mad trandoshan." The mandalorian uttered before walking over to Rift leaning down and taking the amulet from Edar while he was unconscious, slipping the object into a pouch on the front of his belt. "Thank you Imperial. I salute you for you damn service of nothing." With that he preceded to walk up and out of the bow of the ship.

With his business with Edar and Rift done he walked back near the stern of the ship and crossed his arms. "So... When are we going to get a move on?" He uttered and then knocked on the hull. Ready to get the hell out of here.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine
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The Mandalorian grabbed the amulet off of the Imperial, making a snide comment as he headed up the stairs and to the stern. Rift looked over to the trandoshan, out cold and buried under rubble. Sand continued to be blown in by the wind, and in a day, maybe even a few hours, the whole level would be filled with sand. Rift started to push the rubble off, which actually wasn't very difficult. Rift grabbed Zekk from behind the armpits and started to drag him. "Errg, son of a Bantha!." He was slowly dragging him now, and was complaining in a strained voice. "This trandoshan is heavier than he looks, and he doesn't look light."

The stairs were really annoying to get the heavy lizard up, and he almost dropped him a few times. The other Imperial was still on the upper deck, and Rift caught a glimpse of him while dragging the lizard. "Hey, go get your Imperial friend from downstairs and bring him to Stern." Rift then noticed the blaster that was being pointed to the medical supplies. "I wouldn't suggest doing that if I were you. Having a large group of wounded survivors in the middle of nowhere pissed at you doesn't sound like a happy ending. Go get the scout trooper."

The trandoshan's feet dragged along the metal floor, making a streaking noise, and then the sand, leaving small trenches in the ground. When they arrived in the shade of the stern, Rift let the trandoshan's shoulders go. He looked over to the others. "We'll wait until night before making the trek through the desert. For now, let's tend to the wounded."

Rift headed farther into the ship where the wounded were. There were 7 survivors apart from the main group, 3 of them wounded and needing medical attention. The three consisted of a Twi'lek with a large gash in his side, a Bith with a slash in his throat and a shattered forearm, and an Ithorian with a metal shard going through his eye and a leg that was so cut up that it needed to be amputated, all among other minor wounds.

He examined them to the best of his abilities, which was better than most people. Rift walked over to the Twi'lek and asked what his name was. "My name is Kumuda. Am...am I ok?"

Rift nodded. "You're going to be fine. Your wounds aren't lethal, so long as we treat them now." It was then that Rift slowly looked over at the other two, who were looking back with hope and pain in their eyes. He then walked over to the Bith and knelt down next to him. He grabbed the Bith's hand and brought it up to his own chest. With his other hand, he stealthily grabbed his blaster pistol and held it on his side, out of the Bith's view. He whipped the blaster out and aimed it at the Bith's head. His face was cold, but not of an evil cold. "May you rest in piece." For a quick moment, the Bith started to plead.

Blaster Shot

The Ithorian knew he was next. The fear seemed to ooze out of him. He started to cry for mercy, he didn't want to die. His voice was painful to hear to any who were capable of the tiniest bit of empathy. It was a purely innocent cry for mercy, almost like a child's.

Blaster Shot

The cries ceased after the loud blast of energy echoed throughout the area, followed by complete silence.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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Shikle was sitting against part of a sand dune overlooking the crash site, just scanning the area with his goggles. Tuskens could attack but they could be easily repelled. A Krayt Dragon on the other hand was a completely different story on it's own, let alone a great Krayt. If one of those popped up he would ditch the others to go on his own way. After all he had all the time in the galaxy. He would not feel any remorse leaving the others behind. There was an irrational droid, an Imperial that was anti-social, and mandalorians. Rift looked like a mercenary who either thought it was mercy to kill the injured beyond all hopelessness or was too afraid to be slowed down by them. Funny that an assassin seems to be one of the most moral beings in the party. He thought to himself grinning. It did not matter because to him they were all soup anyways.

After scanning he crept back to base. The clothing that he took from his target's corpse was a light tan color so it blended well with the sand. He planned to stay at a distance of at least forty meters from the main party at all times. Even as he crept back to the wreckage he was taking great care to remain unseen. He then quickly walked out openly, where to some would seem as if he had simply appeared, and walked quickly to the water. He then began to splashing some of it on the ground to quickly make some mud, an act that the others may not like since water was so precious in these parts. He then spread it over his guns to make them look dusty. Shikle continued to where he knew those who were once injured laid. He then began to strip the corpses clothing into multiple pieces of various sizes and wrapped them around his guns. Now his guns had a color that could blend in better to the sand. He then continued to searching around for some spare ammo.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii
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Ati was sitting, resting with relative comfort in the shade, when Davern returned. There was nothing else to do until the group decided to get a move on, after all. She tilts her helmet at him as he speaks, and shrugs.

"Sha ca'nara chaavlase tsikalador." She snorts in derision. (At the time these dredge get ready.) The suns were already sinking, travel wouldnt be too hard for the fit. Push themselves now, while they were hydrated and healthy, and it would be easier when the thirst began to sap their strength. But she shouldn't expect that sort of disciplined reasoning to cross the rest of the survivors, and indicated such in the abusive name she'd applied to them.

Some of them werent terrible company. Koda'rai she could respect for now, if only because the alien had insisted that the droid ensure they -all- accompanied him to relative civilization. Davern - Aruetii, in place of his name - wore the emblem of traitors and cowards, but at least he spoke the language. It gave her someone to confide her frustration in that the rest of the galaxy made no sense. By the end of it she'd probably come to blows, though. He was damned arrogant, and she wanted to grind that Deathwatch emblem off into the dirt with the heel of her boot. They had no right still being active over half a century since the Mandalorian Civil War.

Rift - she didnt know his name so she'd simply labeled him Jur'kad, Carry-sword, in her mind - seemed capable, at least. If unstable. That one would bear watching. Speaking of, he was returning around the edge dragging something. Salvage from the bow? No, it was organic.

"A Trandoshan?" She querries with vague incredulity, "There wasnt a Trandoshan in the passenger cabin." She glances to Davern for an answer as Rift heads into the depths of the stern compartment. That would complicate things further. Trandoshans acted on their baser instincts more often than not. If he took it into his head to be angry at them, he'd have to be put down. Hard.

Standing to get a better look at the big bastard, the blasterfire is unmistakable. Her pistol comes to her hand without recognizing that she'd drawn it, and the cold visage of the helmet conceals whatever emotion writes across her face at the noise from within. Ati stands motionless, an armored statue considering the entrance, before she holsters the pistol again with agonizing slowness.

The visor lowers and half-turns towards Shikle as he completes his workings, and her filtered voice traces an unmistakable growl of warning, "Dirt makes mud. Sand just gets wet. It'll be gone by morning. You want cammo weapons, use hydraulic fluid from the wreck. Or, you can waste our water again, and I'll show you how to use the blood of the dead."

The suns slide across the black T as she returns to regarding nothing in particular in the direction of the stern, alone in her armor with her thoughts.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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#, as written by Raidose
IG-136



The droid stood guard at the top of the wreckage, playing sentry and scanning the dunes for hostile movement. Rotating at the waste, all of It's receptors operated at maximum efficiency, scrutinizing every grain of sand. No new orders to play nursemaid had been given, and IG sure as hell wasn't volunteering. It's objective was clear, escort the Insect Thingy Koda'Rai, and nowhere was their fine print mentioning the others. It would simply guard him, and reluctantly obey him.

There was once or twice where the droid picked up movement out in the desert, but the suns were reflecting off the sand and distorting the images. The glare was so horrid that IG would have a hard time telling a Tusken War Party from a couple migrating sand mites. It still drew it's blaster, attaching the sporting extension just in case......




Zekk


The sickness from being frozen in carbonite was preying on all of Zekk's senses. It was even difficult to hear his own swears as he continue bashing onto the humanoid, though there was one. Someone was trying to yell, to communicate.

"Stop! Listen! You Are Ok! You're Blinded, And As Hard As It May Seam, You Need to Calm Down! You're On Tatooine!"


Realizing that this reality was not exactly the one he thought he was in, he began to calm down. He even began what would have been a half-assed apology. Until something rocketed him into the wall by his throat. Once again, fighting instinct fought a war against dulled senses and impaired movement. All of his past battles came roaring back, urging him to wage war against this new threat with every once of power he still held unto. Zekk slashed, clawed, bit, and kicked, till finally the sound of blasterfire gave him a moments pause. Beyond basic senses, Zekk was never good at perceiving things. Even for a non-sensitive, he lacked that lesser sixth sense that kept normal beings from stumbling over each or alerted one to a presence behind them. Zekk had no clue what was happening, but the feeling in the pit of his gut told him he was about to be hit. And it was going to hurt.

"Aw balls..... Grkk!"


Sure enough, he was knocked back into unconsciousness.

Ah, there it was. The familiar, even familial grip of his axe. The sight of that damnable wookie. The face off. This bastard was the one that got away, and Zekk was determined to fix his perfect record. Blasts of charged particles sprayed from his shotgun as the Mando returned fire with two E-11 rifles. The entire complex shook from their brutal fight, pieces of the factory were demolished by explosions. Both combatants were beaten, battered, and shot, but they fought still. Zekk had ripped the helmet from the fur ball with his teeth, while the wookie tore away Zekk's precious axe. The shootout had downgraded into little more than a slobber-knocker fist fight. The Mandalorian using martial form whilst the Bounty Hunter utilized advanced grapples and wrestling techniques. Both wielded natural weapons and massive brute strength. Both refused to back down. Finally, the wookie pulled a trump card, activating a personal-defense stun-shield which blasted the lizard away. However, Zekk had landed near his axe. The battle would be won in a single decisive moment, as he charged his bounty in a fit of rage. But as in the dream before, the ground gave way and Zekk fell into the darkness.

Zekk had started to stir at the sensation of being dragged. Not an entirely unfamiliar thing to him, but never was it welcomed. His eyes cracked open, and instantly regretted it. The world was a bright, blurry white. So great was this blurred light, that it felt blinding. Faint hints of movement encircled him, but he couldn't make out form. The simply looked as slightly darkened blobs, barely standing in contrast to the glaring white background. It was like trying to see the world through an inch of cellophane. Even his own hands before his eyes looked unrecognizable and alien to him. Only when they moved to his command could Zekk even tell they were his own limbs. Then there was a the ringing. A maddening hum that whined through his head and deafened out most of the chatter. He had heard the word "trandoshan" be tossed out somewhere in the mix, but from what or who was a mystery. Finally, his mind began functioning enough to think aloud.

"Wha.... Who..... What landed on me......? Agh, my head feels like I got kicked by an Aklay...... Where..... Where am I?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine
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#, as written by Zarhara
Chek groaned but things seemed to calm down, He nodded to Rift and holstered his blaster. "Imperial friend? One he is not my friend and do I look imperial to you? I dont want anything to do with that their likes but I'll get him if only so he might owe me a favor." He mutter as he pulled his cloak up and walked down the stairs. He looked down at the scout trooper. He reached down and grabbed his hand as he attempted to drag him up the stairs. "You've caused way to much trouble.." He groaned as he tried to drag him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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Rift came out from the ship only a little before Koda's question. Behind him limped a blue Twi'lek with bandages covering his side. The Twi'lek leaned up against a wall of the ship, taking pressure off of his legs.

Rift looked over to Koda after making sure the Twi'lek was in walking condition. "The nearest settlement? Well, it's impossible to tell." He took a brief scan of the dunes. "This isn't anywhere I know by heart. And navigating isn't going to be very easy." He took out a comm link that he scavenged, and demonstrated that there was no reception. "Our communications are being jammed. Is it linked to the crash? Well, that's not our problem right now. Right now we need to worry about where we are, which in fact, looks like we are stranded in the Dune Sea. Better hope I'm wrong." He took a few steps out of the ship once more and onto the sand. The suns were setting, and while the heat was still close to unbearable, it was starting to gradually cool.

Without saying anything, he went back into the ship and came out with a backpack stuffed with clothes. It had 2 canteens on the sides of it, which he filled with water. When he was finished, he walked back over to the group. "Now is our best time to-

Wha.... Who..... What landed on me......? Agh, my head feels like I got kicked by an Aklay...... Where..... Where am I?"

Rift moved closer, but stayed out of punching and kicking range. "You were frozen in carbonite. You're probably suffering from carbonite sickness, which will leave you blind for probably about a day. Our transport crashed somewhere here on Tatooine, and we need to get a move on now, since night is beginning. You could be very useful to our survival, and so until you can see, I'm going to tie a rope of clothing around your waste and attach it to my bag. This way you can walk with us." He looked over the others, and then back to the trandoshan, letting out a sigh. "My name is Rift. And unless you like being called trandoshan, you might want to give out yours."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek
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Edar gingerly opened his eyes, awakening to the overwhelmingly bright sun of the dune sea. "Ugh..." he groaned in such a way, that it could even be mistaken for the stereotypical calling of an undead. and rolled to his side. A gust of unbearable hot wind roamed the air about him, gracefully lifting the sand as it went about. He opened his eyes and saw a cloaked man, he blinked in confusion. Trying to read what his on-helmet interface was displaying, the pale blue hue of his screen seemed unreadable.

He squinted, trying to make sense of what lied in front of him. He then noticed he was being dragged throughout the dunes of the desert. - "... glad imperial armor is outfitted with conditioned air..."- he tried to crack a stylish laughter, but frankly, he would've first have blasted off into the heavens and destroyed the twin suns with laser eyes before looking stylish was even within the reach of possibility at this point. Which is a way of saying he felt like the long gone death star had landed on his head, and twisted in circles on top of that. So instead, his laughter sounded like the agonizing calls of an insane donkey.

He tried to mutter as his body was being dragged through the golden dunes like a potato sack. "Where are we going?" He saw his sight was slowly but steadily returning, he could then read the inscriptions that lied on his on-helmet interface. The blue screen displayed an imperial symbol on top of Chek, alongside a notation that meant the man was covert. "Hmm... I was told I'd be alone in this mission." His head gave in to exhaustion and smacked the sand under him.

Feeling too tired to bother, he just gazed as a funny looking path was being drawn under his weight. He could've sworn it was pink and that it was calling for him, but that was just probably the concussion taking it's toll on him. The imperial march began playing inside of his helmet. The blue screen promptly displayed "Personal Mission Schedule (Imperial navy reminder: please use this feature, only as intended): heck, at this point I should be in Mos Eisley. Before heading to the imp outpost, I might as well take a break at the cantina. No one will be the wiser." He started laughing nonsensically, and began merrily talking gibberish to the blue screen. The previous beating might've knocked him out stupid... probably.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek
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#, as written by Zarhara
Chek had dragged Edar almost to the group when he groaned. He stopped dragging him and looked down. "Well your awake, that was pretty stupid, attacking them." He muttered, he extended a hand to help him up. "Can you walk I'd rather not drag you." He said as he felt the setting sun beating it's last rays down on his black cloak, this clearly was not the best place to wear black.

He looked toward the group, He tried to remember his reasoning for being on this rock, the concussion must have knocked the memory out of him.Why of all places did I end up on bloody Tatooine?!? He thought with a small sigh. He knew he was poorly armed and prepared, at least he had some credits and this planet was run by theHutts might not be the best gear but he could easily buy something at one of the arms markets then sneak off to the imperial out post with this guy to report in with intelligence though he wondered if that suit of his recognized him as an operative. Not a field agent just a spy but maybe this could change things.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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Ati decided that she could only let this ragtag group stumble about on their own for so long before she would have to be the one to step up. Hanging around here only lessened their chances for survival, and she didn't fancy finding the end of her story written into Dune Sea sands beside an empty water canteen.

Rift handles the Trandoshan. If he had any questions after waking up from a carbonite nap - and she was sure there would be many questions - he could ask them on the move.

"If we want to get any distance covered before dawn, we need to leave now."

The Mandalorian puts action to her words, picking up part of the harness they'd use to drag the water tank across the sands behind them. The other strap she tosses at Davern before looping hers over her good shoulder and giving an experimental tug on the skid. It shifts, the water sloshing in the tank. Not impossible for one person to drag, but it'd be easier - and faster - with a combined effort. Looks like that droid did a passable job.

"We're in the best shape physically. Last thing the concussed need is a rise in blood pressure. We'll shift with them ever other hour. Whoever wants water shares the pulling."

She lets her visor slide slowly over the assembled, well aware of the kind of psychological impact the infamous T-visor could cut. Ati didn't expect them to allow themselves to be afraid of her. Mandalorian armor or not, she was smaller than most of them, and they all fancied themselves quite the hardened murderers. But they couldn't deny that -as- a Mandalorian, she was a potential threat. Arguing her point, or trying to undermine what she perceived as critical to her own survival, would quickly earn them a high place on a short list. Even if they survived her ire, they might not do so in a condition to make it out of the Dune Sea.

Besides, it was just common sense. Cooperate, and they might all just make it.

"Droid. You know the way. Point it out."

With another sharp tug, assuming that Davern does chip in rather than be shown up by a female half his age, Ati gets this show on the road in whatever direction IG indicates.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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Davern was sitting around and waiting, watching Rift and the Trandoshan closely as someone finally took charge of the situation. He grinned noticing who it was, both out of amusement and the fact that a chance to show the Protector up had finally come around the corner.

He caught the strap with ease and chuckled under his helmet. "Aye, Aye Ma'am." He muttered sarcastically and nearly mockingly, accepting the task through. "Gar lahm par ibic hibir, gar aalar pel," ( Are you ready pup, you seem soft) he teased her, obviously working at the same tactic she was, "I bet I can pull this thing all day and night without needing a shift change." He voice growled in challenge to the rest of the group. Ati's plan was working on Davern at least.

Then again, Davern was already better off, his suit had climate control, thanks to the integrated Imperial Shocktrooper system. He'd need less water than the others due to this, he had good survival chances. But then again, the deserts of Tatooine were a cruel, many beasts and brigands wandered them. It was a dangerous place. But as long as the large group stuck together, their chances should be better off.

The Mandalorian waited patiently and calmly for the droid to begin giving directions. Night was soon going to set upon them, again, Davern knew what wandered the deserts at night so he'd rather get a move on. The smoke from this wreck would attraction creatures for miles around. It was basically a sure fire way to get attacked by something, not to mention the smell of reeking, burnt flesh scattering into the desert air, which would be carried for miles around due to the low amount of particles of water, to seize the scent. It was a Krayt feast for sure, something no living being should near by when it started.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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#, as written by Raidose
(Permission from Shadow and Ty.)

At the bequest of the Mandalorian meatbag, IG attempting to bring up a visual map over his comms, only to find them jammed. Which was..... odd, considering comms were fine only a few moments ago.

"Statement: Well that's annoying..... I seam to be having an error. Clarification: All comms signal in this region has gone dead, rendering all guidance systems inoperable. Observation: We appear to be boned...."


Dismounting from his perch atop the stern, IG leaped down to the not-so-merry band of organics. Touting his T-6 like it was his scepter of royalty, he quickly scanned over the group.

Calculating Survival Rating.....
Estimated Casualty Rate: 81%
Good Odds.....


Zekk, overhearing the plan, used Rift's cloth as a guide over tp them. Feeling out the water tank with his hands, he gradually felt his way up the strap. Whoever was giving the orders was undoubtedly female, he got that from the voice. He could also tell that she had a (hopefully) metaphorical pair that clanked. Still, he was the hindrance to the group. If he couldn't fight, then at least he could carry his own weight, almost literally.

"I can haul this. It wouldn't make sense for the people with the wondrous gift of eyesight to be weighed down, and we're likely in the middle of Tusken territory. Besides, I'd rather be a pack Bantha than blind, dead weight."


Of course, leave it to the unmistakable Mandalorian to turn this into a dick-measuring contest. Davern looked at the lizard under his visor like it was a maniac for a second. He turned to Ati and chuckled.

"Take it off her shoulders, I can fight and haul this with ease, she on the other hand, she is still far to young for such impressive strength or finesse."


"Yeah, your not compensating for anything. No, I can go fine on my own. Unless you need to be guarded by the big, strong chick......"


Davern growled and sneered for a second.

"Fine, you damned Space-gecko."


He stood kind of awkwardly holding the strap, eyes wondering everywhere, but with a big, toothy grin on his face. He wasn't quite sure where he should be facing, but that wasn't a huge issue. He still was waiting for the feel of slack in the fabric, a clear sign that whatever female he was speaking to was relinquishing the burden unto him. Though there was one thing to clear up.

"Oh, and if it's morning, then follow the small sun, if it's evening, then the larger one. If it's mid day or night...... Well, we're screwed. Just tell me where to turn and when I'm about to fall face-first down a sand dune."


Zekk retrieved Davern's shoulder-harness, and fumbled around with it a bit. Not very successfully, either. Davern was apparently too busy being an ass too aid a blind Trandoshan tie the strap around him, but thankfully Rift stepped in. Zekk was still waiting on the harness from Ati to hand her's over, when something donned on him.

"Aw, Sith Shit! Someone's gotta go find my axe! I won't leave it behind for some greedy little Jawa bastard to auction the damn thing to some fat-ass Hutt!"


Rift rubbed his eyes. An awkward silence took over after Zekk's request, with everyone seeming to be touching their noses while saying "Not it." Rift, wanting to get this show on the road, groaned and then started after the bow of the ship. He returned a few moments later, holding the axe in his two hands. "Jesus, this thing is heavy as hell." He touched the bottom of the handle to Zekk's hand, letting him know it was there for him to grab. Zekk, knowing his handle anywhere, begins cradling the weapon as if it were his lost child. Collapsing the shaft and attaching it to his back mount, he now was waiting for someone to tie the other harness around him and start mushing the big lizard for like some kind of beast of burden.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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Rift tied a rope of clothing around Zekk's waist and then attached it to his own backpack. "Just follow in the direction of the pull Zekk."

The large sun was just barely visible now, slowly being swallowed by the horizon. With this last bit of navigation advice from Zekk, Rift took point, guiding Zekk's path. And so the trek across the desert began, with the scorching heat begging to become blistering cold. the blowing sand seemed to steal the heat right out of your body on contact. The people who had experienced snow would find that this was just as bad, if not worse, and was a lot less comfortable when it go into loose clothing.

Luckily, the moons of Tatooine had a bright shine to them, which allowed sight during the night. But unfortunately, in contrast to the assistance to vision, the winds picked up and caused air-born sand to reduce visibility range. To add to this slight disadvantage of far sight, the large dunes being in everyone's face made looking into the distance that much more difficult.

The water tank pulled mostly smoothly. The sand acted as a nice, ungrounded substance for pulling it. The problems occurred when it had to be pulled over a dune, which was a lot. Traction was near impossible to gain and the puller's feet would sink into the dune, causing a few trips here and there. But what really turned out to be an issue, was bringing it down the other side of the dune. During one of these occurrences, the tank nearly flipped over at the top of the dune and landed on a few group members, which didn't exactly start a peachy conversation.

After only a few hours into night, it became unbearably cold. The group, without any verbal communication, decided to bunker down for the night. Rift supplied Zekk and other survivors with the clothing he had collected in his bag. He wrapped himself up as best he could, and went into a very light sleep. The droid could take watch if necessary.

Five Hours Later...


Upon waking up, Rift could tell something was wrong. It was just one of those bad feelings that he had sometimes, and this was one of them. He got up and put the extra clothes back into the bag, but still kept a few extra layers on. The droid was creepily watching over Koda.

The desert was still freezing cold, but that feeling Rift had was too unsettling for him to ignore. This feeling was shared by Koda, and even by Shikle. Rift awakened the rest of the group, explaining to them that it was time to go.

Without break, the group had traveled the rest night throughout the wastes. Step after step, pull after pull, shiver after shiver, and dune after horrible dune, the suns were finally starting to come up. The morning would begin to rapidly heat everything, and everyone, up.

Rift stopped and turned around, warning everyone that it would be best to take a small break now. "The suns will soon heat everything back to its scorching levels. We should take some water now, so that when the heat does hit us, we are hydrated." Rift removed the cloth from his face and took out one of his canteens. He twisted off the cap and then took 2 small sips. A small drop rolled down his mouth and soaked into his beard. He wiped his mouth and looked back over the group. "Be sure not to drink very much, you don't want to make a habit of drowning yourself in resources."

The break lasted a good 3 minutes before he ended it. "Everyone good to move?" Without waiting for a response, he turned towards the small sun that was still peeking over the horizon. "Good, cause we're moving now." And with that, he started to head towards the light orange horizon.

Two Hours Later...


The suns were baking the whole planet, and the only two who were mostly unaffected, was Davern and Edar. The rest of the poor souls had to deal with the heat.

That feeling had not left Rift, Koda, or Shikle. In fact, it was growing stronger. It was a feeling that felt like their guts were being ripped up. It was truly a horrible feeling, and it was slowly starting to spread to the others.

Everything became unusually quiet, even for a desert. The sand itself seemed to stop shifting. Rift and Davern were in the middle of an argument where Davern was defending Mandalorians, which was the only thing that could be heard for miles. As the two walked up a particularly large dune, two blaster rifles were in their face. Tusken Raiders.

Rift immediately grabbed the barrel of the gun that was in his face while smacking it out of his face, making it fire at the sand. Rift pulled the rifle back and then thrust the butt of the rifle into the Tusken's chin. He pulled the gun from the stunned Tusken and turned the gun on it, shooting it straight in the head.

The two Tuskens had not been alone, as from the side flanks they started pouring in. Chaos ensued. For a while, there seemed to be an endless wave of them. You kill one, two more came in to replace him.

Rift shot a few more Tuskens before dropping the blaster and pulling out Adenn. He was still tied to Zekk, and stayed back with him to help him while he was blind. His eyesight was returning, but all he could make out were the shapes of people.

Two of the five other survivors from the crash were slaughtered, and once that wave of Tuskens were defeated, a new wave lined up in front of the group, across the top of the dunes. The leader of the war party raised his gun and Gaffi Stick above his head, letting out the infamous war cry of the Tusken Raiders.

The group prepared for the wave, ready to take as many of them down as they possibly could. But before the Tusken finished his cry, a loud blast was heard followed by a quick beam of light that went straight through the Tusken's head. Their leader fell and slid down the dune, which had them all looking at each other in confusion. Another bang went off, but this time it was much louder, and the sky above the group was completely illuminated with red energy. All of the Tuskens in the front followed the lead of their leader, sliding down the dunes to the group's feet. The Tuskens that were in the back rows tried to retreat, but where gunned down almost instantaneously.

Rift looked over to the rest of the group. He was hoping that these blasts came from friendlies, but in the dune sea, there are no friendlies. That dark feeling was encroaching on everybody now.

He looked to the right, and noticed that the dunes made a trench-like sand path that led to a canyon in the distance. They would have to be fast if they wanted to reach it before the assailants reached them. "Head for the canyon! Use the dunes as cover, now move your asses!"

He yanked on the clothing robe that was still tied to Zekk's waist. "Just stay with me!"

He dashed for the canyon, moving as fast as he could. The feeling that the assailants were gaining was strong, and only made him move faster. If Zekk fell, or became too slow, Rift was prepared to cut the rope and leave him to his fate. He was not going to die out here.

As the canyon became closer, it seemed to become a lot bigger as well. The canyon was very narrow in its opening, but the canyon itself was huge. The passage led in pretty deep before coming to a T intersection. The problem, of course, was getting there first, and that, was unnecessary for their survival.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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Davern was one of the first to smash into the Tusken Raider's lines, throwing himself forward with his thruster packs, both blades drawn. The first Raider he killed was with a rather brutal attack, he impaled it, to stop himself after the thruster jump. The creature yowled in pain and other's soon converged on Davern, he was backing toward the group as he fought them off, parrying blows with one blade, and attacking with the other.

Soon it was all out combat, Rift was fighting blade to gaffi with the marauders as Davern did, the battle dragging on for a good twenty minutes, during the later stretch of the battle Davern was fighting what was obviously an Enforcer of the Tribe. The fight was lasting longer than Davern would like. He finally lost his patience, and out of pure rage and angry toward the assailing beast-man. He brought both of his blades downward with such ferocity they cut right through the blocking gaffi stick. Slicing two massive gashes down the chest of his opponent, downing the enemy with ease.

Something interrupted the battle, a massive red flash filled the sky along with a thunderous cackle of blaster fire. The Tusken Raiders were obviously scared shitless, and broke ranks, fleeing with yells and shouts. Davern looked around and growled, unable to find his opponents. Rift bolted toward a canyon, obviously taking charge of a retreat. So much blaster fire into the sky at once indicated that they were up against a large force, it was a tactic Mandalorians used to scare and startle foes.

Davern had no time to dwell on it, he waited for the rest of the group to get into the Canyon before following after. His heavy running and the prolonged dash. It was a good sprint down the straight-away before he arrived at the T-intersection. Davern turned around to see very blurred figures coming at them in the distance. He growled and raised his blasters, firing down the canyon blindly to provide cover for the group. The plan hardly worked, so Davern picked another idea, placing his blasters back in their holsters he raised his grenade launcher and loaded a thermal det grenade. With a loud boom from the weapon in his arm it launched down the canyon, impacting on the wall and collapsing right in the way of the charging force. "Hurry! Pick a path! That'll only stop them for so long!" He voice boomed and echoed as he spoke.

Whatever the hell they were going to do, it needed done fast. He didn't like this... The postion they were in would be horrid if they got caught in a fire fight. And he'd rather avoid having blaster blots burrow into his armor today.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii Character Portrait: Koda'Rai Character Portrait: Chogna
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"Gar lahm par ibic hibir, gar aalar pel," ( Are you ready pup, you seem soft)

Soft?! Ati bristled, setting her shoulders at the taller Mando with an invisible glare of challenge. Calling someone 'soft' was a good way to get in a quick fight on Mandalore. In a few years, with thicker skin and a more mature head, Ati may have brushed off the remark. But on her first round of galactic travel and with a mind to prove herself, the words stung her pride.

She may even have answered him in kind, regardless of her broken arm, if it weren't for the clipped electronic voice of the droid saying something that demanded an even more immediate portion of her attention.

"Statement: Well that's annoying..... I seam to be having an error. Clarification: All comms signal in this region has gone dead, rendering all guidance systems inoperable."

The female regarded 'Smiley' flatly for a long moment, "That could be a problem, droid. Does your master have enemies that could've followed you out here?"

As soon as the words are out, she considered a second, more likely, and less appealing scenario.

"Haar'chak." She growls the curse, "I only thought my headset was damaged in the crash. It's all too neat, isn't it? The ship suffers a power failure when there was no trouble anywhere else on the flight, bringing us down into an area that is now being jammed... I don't like what that means. Someone either anticipated survivors, or only just realized there -are- survivors, and we're being watched. Either way, they don't want us calling for help."

It sounded paranoid to her own ears, but it made too much sense; fitting the pieces of their circumstances together into a more complete whole.

"Take it off her shoulders, I can fight and haul this with ease, she on the other hand, she is still far to young for such impressive strength or finesse."

"Yeah, your not compensating for anything. No, I can go fine on my own. Unless you need to be guarded by the big, strong chick......"


The Trandoshan saves her from outright challenging Davern, and finally she shrugs her half of the harness off of her shoulder, allowing Zekk to do just as he said he'd do. His size really did make him the best suited to pull the tank, and she was mildly impressed that he'd volunteered to do it. Trandoshans usually weren't that level-headed when it came to demeaning themselves in front of 'lesser' mammalian species.

----

The night was bitterly cold, and the desert stretched forever in any direction they cared to look. Ati's Beskar'gam protected her better than those with any skin exposed to the biting sand, and most of her visor's visual components still functioned despite the minute cracks that'd starred the transparasteel. Because of that, she was usually the first to climb the next dune, watching for threats ahead of them on their trek across the dunes.

It hadn't left her mind that their circumstances might be fitting all too neatly into someone else's plan for them, and she didn't like being played from afar. So she kept her mouth shut and her thoughts to herself, even when Zekk lost his footing and sent the sled screaming down the slope of a dune, nearly colliding with several of the others.

The argument broke up quickly enough, and they didn't loose too much time, but eventually the wind and cold became too much, and in the relative shelter of a dune's valley, they all huddled around the tank for what shelter they could find. Ati declined the scraps that Rift handed around; it wouldn't add anything that her armor didn't already provide.

The next day was Hell. While her sealed armor had been fantastic in the night, during the day her lack of an environmental suite left her cooking right along with the rest of them. To remove her helmet would just expose her head to the sun, so she grunted and cursed and suffered in relative silence while the heat rolled off of the iron plates with enough heat to scorch, should she have been stupid enough to touch them with naked flesh.

She was going to smell -fantastic- after all of this, and made a mental note several times over to spend her next set of credits on any kind of in-armor atmosphere uprgrade.

And then Hell gets... Hell-ier? Ati had stayed back as Rift and Davern had gone up the next dune, arguing like children. The Deathwatch grated on her nerves at every turn, and she was itching for her arm to mend. Stars willing, she could find a medical droid in whatever settlement they hit first. Then she and that old man were going to have a prolonged talk.

But there are shouts, and blasterfire. Tusken. They must've come upon the wreck and seen their tracks. Her pistol wouldn't cut it. Reaching back, the rifle is heavy in her one-handed grip, and she steadies it against her hip. The assault weapon snaps, and heavy red bolts drill into the waves of roaring, savage scavengers.

The numbers press ever-closer, despite the casualties they absorb. A Raider falls to her shots, only to have its comrade leap over the body, too close to shoot again. Its Gaffi stick comes down hard onto her gun arm, but skips loudly, harmlessly, across the gray Mandalorian Iron. His momentum dedicated forward, Ati meets his wrapped forehead with the crown of her helmet, and the crack is even louder. The Tusken joins its fellows in the dirt.

With a screech, the assault is halted by whatever threat had spooked the Tusken Raiders sent crimson energy staining the sky.

"...I have a bad feeling about this."

And then they're all running, choosing to take their chances in the canyon rather than find out what was slaughtering the Tusken. As she clears her boots from desert dunes to hard-packed grit, Ati briefly regrets that she doesn't have the time to enjoy the few degrees difference in the shade. The twin paths look identical.

"Split up and double our chances to get away, or stay together and keep our firepower concentrated?"

Time was running out to decide, and Ati is already taking a few steps towards the left-hand path.

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Character Portrait: Chek
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#, as written by Zarhara
Chek looked out over the vast dunes as they seemed to walk on forever. Night and day had seemed to mix, he drank when allowed and just followed the motions trying to take it easy knowing his concussion was going to keep him limited. His head was still pounding as the first day seemed to end with the next sun rise he felt slightly improved but still had the headache but he seemed to be getting his wits back.

Then he watch as a battle began, Tusken Raiders it seemed. He opted to keep his mouth shut and let the Mandos do the front line fighting. He unholstered his blaster and sent shots into the left flank of the raiders dropping a few but he was still having trouble focusing and a few of his shots just ended up hitting sand.

Then he was taken aback as the sky seemed to fill with blaster fire and the raiders began to run. A passing ship, maybe the Hutts? But he was immediately pulled out of speculation as the group began their retreat toward the canyon. He jumped up from his position on the ground and began to make a run for the canyon.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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Koda'Rai was about to join in pulling the sled, but a more optimal solutions appeared. His strength was nowhere near that of those pulling the sled, and as such he knew any attempt to help would get in the way. The marching in the sand was absolutely miserable, the heat draining him of water far faster than he was comfortable with and the cracks in his tail only getting worse. The widened cracks only exposed more of his skin, making him even more uncomfortable in the sun. Beyond all doubt, he was currently the weakest member of the little improvised party. But he wasn't about to let that show, after all the last thing needed was another burden.

His senses and reactions still dull in the heat, by the time the Raiders are upon them he's barely capable of telling exactly what was going on. Eventually, he caught on and began attempting to escape with the others. But he realized that leaving the water sled was even less and option for him than everyone else. With that he began pushing against the back of the sled, hunched over to actually push the sled instead of the tank.

"This one would like to inquire about the plan,"he voiced through his translator. He'd been forced into hold his Stun Stick with his tail again to aid the sled. But should the sled need to be defended then he'd have no choice but to stick behind. With his shell compromised, he was simply losing water too easily to hope for survival otherwise.

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Character Portrait: Edar Xann
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The soothing sound the wind produced as it gently stroked the dunes dominated the area. The dunes glittered with reflected sunlight- as if it was pure gold-, making it seem as a hellish scene, a potentially deadly one. Hopelessness was very much palpable in the expressions of the other survivors. Edar had awakened a long time ago, and was steadily recovering. He decided it was best not to talk with the other survivors until he got back to his senses.

At some point during the track, they stopped to get some sleep. Edar's head cleared substantially with the well needed sleep. Waking up early he took a sit at a small exposed stone. The screen on his suit displayed a green diagram of his body, meaning that he was mostly uninjured. His diagram showed his head with yellow coloring, meaning that it was less than healthy. He bit his lip, and using the neural connector which send his will to his helmet interface, navigated the screens searching for a particular option.

The blue hued screen displayed with a small beeping sound "Bacta treatment: you have enough bacta for this restoration."

Edar sighed, and thought out loud "But not enough for another one, huh? I will be sure to return the favor to that man and his mandalorian ally." He gazed at the blurry dunes, the air around them appeared like a transparent smoke from the heat "...or maybe not..."
He got to his feet, and withdrew his blaster sniper rifle from its holster. "Not exactly in service condition are you lady."

He stood there with the company of the man who had knocked him out earlier, and the droid creeping around- seemingly keeping watch on his precious target. He took a good look at the desolate desert ahead of them, the wind whispering, as if purposefully trying to make the already ominous scene seem appallingly ruinous.

Time began to blur as he tended to his rifle, paying special attention to its cleaning. Long arms required an almost religious commitment to their cleansing if they were to remain operable in the desert. Edar lost trace of time, his only company being Rift and the droid anxiously pacing about the encampment. Edar wondered what they both had in mind, but dared not ask them himself, so he idly thought of different reasons to amuse himself during his work.

The next long hours, the group navigated the dunes. Zekk carrying their only water source, the Bacta treatment he was going through inside of his armor kept him hydrated. But he figured he would eventually finish the treatment, and run out of bacta... keeping the water safe was a priority if they intended on staying alive.

The mandalorian female removed her helmet.

Edar commented "I assume you have not upgraded to in built climate control. Take my word, I have been in quite a collection of hell holes. Don't spare the credits, weather control is not an option, it becomes nothing short of indispensable if you intend on exploring the galaxy while wearing heavy armor." If he was going to stay with this company of antisocial individuals, making good ties with them was the most logical course of action.

The trek went about for long hours. Edar looked at the strange insect like entity, and told him "Wish I had my speeder bike..." the death watch and Rift were arguing about something while climbing a dune... Edar had lost count of how many times said scene had unfurled ahead of him, those two seemed to compete for group leadership. Although Edar himself fancied Rift more suited for leadership, the mandalorian seemed to be far too egocentric for such a role.

He heard blaster fire, coming from Rift's direction. He turned backwards, and was quite appalled at the sight "They flanked our asses! Now we are in for it." He took a knee in behind the large insectoid, that exoskeleton looked like it could shrug off some blaster fire. Peeking into the close future, he just peeked out to gun down a few Tuskens. The Tuskens themselves luckily had terrible aim, and did not really seem to hit anything.

A barrage of red blaster bolts thundered the desert "Suppressive fire. Those guys are quite definitely not Tuskens." He saw Rift and the death watch spearhead a retreat to a tight rocky canyon. "Guys... not a good idea at all, you are dead meat in there." He tried to stop them in their tracks "Blaster bolts are contained nuclear detonations! If a shot lands there, the explosion will be quite devastating!" The death watch shot the uppermost part of the canyon with his grenade launcher, an unusually large explosion collapsed the entrance. "He is lucky he did not collapse the whole thing... he used the right weapon too, grenades generate little heat when compared with a blaster. A blaster bolt is a no-no in there." he mumbled. Koda'Rai stayed behind to protect the water. Edar trotted next to him, without water, they were all dead anyway. Might as well die guarding it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: IG-136/59 Character Portrait: Davern Korosnos Character Portrait: Zekk Character Portrait: Ati Jendrassi Character Portrait: Edar Xann Character Portrait: Chek Character Portrait: Rift Kilbaine Character Portrait: Shikle Sevii Character Portrait: Koda'Rai
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#, as written by Raidose
At what point does unlikely turn to ridiculous? This was the question Zekk ran through his head about a thousand times as he trekked through the sands with his new band of cohorts. How many times had he been lost on this god forsaken rock? It seamed like out of all the planets he'd ever set foot on, this one held dibs on claiming his life. The big reptile strained on his muscles, making large wakes in the sand from the water tank. Cramps ran up and down his legs, the carbonite sickness still wasn't out of his body yet, but the burn made him feel more active. Believe it or not, he was grateful for it. More so when the suns began to set. The winds picked up heavily, blowing sand into his useless eyes. Many Trandoshans had evolved on Tatooine with a secondary pair of eyelids just for sand storms. Zekk was not one of them. It was about half an hour before it dawned upon him that if he was blind, why did he need to leave them uncovered? Accepting a piece of torn rags from Rift, Zekk fashioned a sort or turban. Which, of course, was cleverly disguised as a rag wrapped loosely around his head by a blind idiot.

The sands on Tatooine were truly an absolute horror. It was rough, yet fine. When the winds carried it thick in the air, it gnawed and chewed away at you like the planet itself was trying to consume you one layer of skin at a time. It held heat better than any man-made alloy, it could clog your lungs in a few short seconds, it reflected light better than a damn mirror, and worst of all? There was waves of the shit! Endless seas of that god awful yellow-ish dust. And climbing it was a joke and a half, more so with the added weight from the damn tanker. Zekk pulled, tugged, and clawed his way up each dune. Treading the sand was worse than trying to climb solid ice. Out of habit and instinct, the tiny little barbed scales on the palms of Zekks hands would rise, trying to adhere to a usable surface, only to take in a huge handful of sand, which would get stuck under those little scales. It itched, burned, and was just generally irritating.

Worst of all was the hunger. Zekk's genetic lineage was part Barabel, and as such he could sustain himself for weeks with only food. His body storing and slowly burning it in a second stomach, allowing him to maintain his peak condition even in ass-biting cold. Usually this made surviving on harsh planets like Tatooine rather easy, seeing as food was much more plentiful than water.

Oh how irony loves to rear it's ugly little head in the worst of ways..... Starving to death while dragging a tank of water. And dad said the Force didn't have a sense of humor.


Crossing over the apex of a dune, someone forgot to throw a heads-up to Zekk. Before he had time to react, he was sliding face-first down the dune with the tank chasing after him. He nearly plowed over everyone just on his own, rolling on his back in time for his feet to stop the tumbling tanker. On the bright side, no one got seriously hurt and the tank was saved by Zekk's leg muscles. However, one of his toes was painfully bent inwards by the sudden impact, popping it out of place. Not debilitating, but damn it stung.

"You know...... I recall mentioning something about this...... Like, basically asking for a warning for this particular scenario....... Almost exactly..... Thanks for the early warning, guys....."


Several hours of nonstop bitching and complaining later,the suns fell. Zekk may have been blind, but the immediate drop in temperature was impossible to miss. Suddenly, he was even more grateful for the burning of his muscles, as it was his only source of heat in his body. It'd been a long time since he ate anything, meaning his reserve supplies of food and fat to burn were out. Actually, thinking about the whole carbonite ordeal, it was likely a really long time since he ate. The chills began to sting deep into his body, making it hard to move. It was like trying to walk in a tar pit, or maybe more like standing on totally numb legs. While he was happy that he wasn't truly cold blooded, it made no difference. The natural amount of body heat he produced was little over half of what a human held, which meant freezing to death was very possible. This is why Zekk was the first to argue with the plan to stop for the night. But regardless, they did. Sleep for him was impossible. He could go another fourteen or so hours without sleep, which meant that he was basically sitting on his frozen ass the whole time. Tensing his muscles, gritting his teeth, even at one point popping his toe back out of socket, Zekk did everything he could to ignore the cold. This was possibly the second longest night ever.

Finally, there was a little pinch of warmth, which gradually began circulating around him. Dawn was breaking at last, and he truly wished he could have laid eyes on those two beautiful suns. He may have shed a tear, if it weren't the likelihood of someone seeing him cry. No, at the very least, Zekk was going to maintain his appearance of toughness. He gave up on dignity a looooooong time ago. Finally, Rift gave the word to mush, and Zekk had never been so happy to play the part of work-horse. The movement at least took his mind off the freezing cold, which itself was gradually fading away like a bad dream. By far, he was the happiest damn person on Tatooine about being slowly fried by those two orbs of fire in the sky. But of course, the sun is never the only danger in this hell hole. The long, drawn-out barks and howls were unmistakable. Tuskens. Of course. And with his damned head wrapped, Zekk couldn't see a bloody thing. All he could do was swing out at the crunching of sand or the war cries of these desert dumbasses. Though there was one thing that let Zekk tell friend from foe, as he finally landed his hands on something. With a single sniff, he confirmed it's identity. Thankfully, Tuskens never bathe and often have a stink that could knock a hawk-bat off a gut wagon. Zekk's grip on this bastard tightened as he hoisted it's body above his head, bringing it down across his knee. The loud snap of the Tuskens spine brought back a good deal of memories.

IG, who had played little more than sentry guard up until now, was knee deep in the Tusekn's horde. Blaster in one hand, vibro-sword in the other, and it's foot crushing something's skull, it was truly joyous.

Combat Data:
Ammunition: 22
Meatbag Kills: 7
Unacceptable


The Magna Guard spun, slashed, twirled, hacked, and shot away, often leaping from one group of attackers into the heart of another. Three more shots rang out, each tearing a Tusken head from it's shoulders. It's blade spun in it's rotating wrist, creating an impassable death-fan which claimed the limbs of multiple raiders. All of it's receptors where keeping track of it's target, Koda'Rai, and the droid's grappling hook would drag away any meatbag that even looked in his direction. Often, the hook would usually pierce into the Tusken's throat, making further mutilation via the droid's sword completely unnecessary. Logic be damned, IG did it anyway. Liberating a Gaffi stick (arm still attached) from one of the raiders, IG found a true love for the brutal bludgeoning and cracking of craniums with blunt weapons. So much so, the droid equipped a second gaffi stick and began an onslaught.

Combat Data:
Ammunition: 17
Meatbag Kills: 19
It Is A Good Day


Javelin-tossing one of it's acquired gaderffi into the back of another Tusken, IG was now using it's sword and gaffi combo. Impaling, cudgeling, and decapitating any howling idiot who neared the droid. Spinning at the waste with arm's outstretched, it charged into the next wave of bantha-fodder, trying it's hand at theology as it executed each of them.

Combat Data:
Ammunition: 17
Meatbag Kills: 23


"Musings: Kill one Meatbag, and you are a murderer....."

Combat Data:
Ammunition: 17
Meatbag Kills: 27


"Kill a million Meatbags, and you are a conqueror....."

Combat Data:
Ammunition: 17
Meatbag Kills: 34


"Kill them all....."

Combat Data:
Ammunition: 17
Meatbag Kills: 36


"And you are a God."


The droid stood proudly atop a pile of slaughtered Sand People, it's robes shot to ribbons and stained with blood. A sight to behold, indeed, until a blaster bolt finally found it's mark, shooting out the receptor on the droid's left elbow. Feeling this as an insult to it's display of unrivaled killing capacity, IG-136 turned to slaughter yet another batch, only to be taken aback by the wave of suppression fire that was rained unto their position. The droid's self-preservation kicked into full effect, only stopping to take note of it's target, Koda'Rai. It saw him shoving the tanker.

"Query: Master, you are aware of the armada seeking our extermination, correct?"


Not waiting for a response, the droid simply lifted the strange alien and dexterously bolted for the safety of the canyons.

After bear-hugging two more Sand People in half and taking a Gaderffii to the back, Zekk was getting annoyed. Finally, after he tore the assailant's arm off with his teeth, the Tuskens were sounding the retreat. Which was slightly muted by the sound of all Hell breaking loose. One of the fleeing nomads tore the rags from Zekk's face, revealing that he'd regained a fair portion of his sight back. Everything was still blurry, but he could vary well perceive the volley of heavy blaster fire threatening to obliterate him. Rift gave the plan for retreat, pointing to the nearby cover of the canyons. With most of his momentum lost, Zekk struggled to gain traction. Though a tiny ray of fortune shined on him for once, as his foot made contact with a sheet of stone. Rift was shouting that he'd cut Zekk free of the tank, but Zekk responded with a devilish grin.

"Nah, I got this! Just move your ass, Squishy!"


With that, Zekk gripped onto the straps of the tanker with one hand, and the bt of cloth tied to Rift with the other. The large lizard lurched forward, his feet gripping the surface of the stone and giving him the power he long needed. With staggering strength and massive strides, Zekk barreled down the path after Rift, the sled sparking as it skipped over the rocks and stone of the canyon floor. Sliding to a stop, the group made a choice of which path to take.

"You gotta follow the small sun! If you don't, you'll be lost out here for good."


Scanning through it's own memories, IG determined the direction which said lizard was indicating.

"Statement: That would indicate we take this path. Clarification: The reliability of reptilian Meatbag's directions are questionable...."

"What'd you call me, slag-heap?"

"Hurry! Pick a path! That'll only stop them for so long!"


Fumbling around with some of his equipment, Zekk pulled out one of his anti-personnel land mines, one of only three he had left. They were small and easy to hide, but were effective at sending super-heated flak everywhere. Or it would, had the carbonite not fried it's priming sequencer, which Zekk figured out after trying to arm it. Actually, he figured it out after banging it off the wall of the canyon once or twice. Though an idea did strike him. While Zekk was not exactly what you'd call smart, he had his clever moments. The landmine didn't need to work if someone thought it worked. Undoing himself from the tank, he whistled to the two Mandalorians from earlier.

"Hey! You two wanted to haul this heavy-ass thing so bad? Wish Granted! I'll catch up in a bit, I got a plan!"


Zekk soon scurried over to a pile of loose dust and rocks, and covered the landmine entirely save for one bit. He made sure it was just enough for the sun to glean off of it, but that it still looked like it was purposely hidden. He placed the remaining two in similar fashions, but didn't stop there. He made little piles of dirt and loose rocks all the way down the path leading to the intersection, before darting off after the others. Hopefully the fear of walking through a non-existent minefield would slow down whatever the hell was following them.

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