1095 replies to this topic

[The Fourteenth Doctor]

OOC: Thought I responded to this a while ago.

 

IC: (Rorl, Day Eleven)

 

Rorl put his helmet back on and followed close behind the Kaleesh, gun at the ready.

 

IC: (Roma, Day Eleven)

 

Roma had left most of her stuff on the main ship, so she didn't have much to carry. She too followed the Kaleesh.

[Basilisk]

OOC: Alright. Time is starting to be on my side again. Expect my activity to increase in a fe-screw it. Expect it now. 

 

IC (Coruscant, Night One, Police Forces)

 

If they were capable of it, the police droids would have reacted with shock and more then a little bit of awe. To attempt such a stunt was clearly a death sentence unless one had practiced for long hours and had modified their bike just so, it was a foolish risk. A risk that most beings would not take. The droids however, felt no emotions, no awe and no glimmer of respect for a skilled enemy. They set about responding to the assassin's stunt in the fashion as their programming demanded. It was a common mistake to think of droids as sentient, so effectively did they emulate it. In truth, very few droids achieved that status and most of them had to be designed in that fashion. Droids were highly advanced computers with bodies, running of their programming and any creativity simulacrums included in their processors. This distinction was important, a sentient would have felt fear, would have been wary of following the assassin on her daredevil stunt.

 

The blue-painted police droids manning the assorted speeders had no such feelings. Their coldly efficient programs told them that when a criminal runs, barring exceptionally hazardous circumstances (I.E a warzone) they were to pursue. Thus, as the daring assassins speeder completed it's flight, the assassin would hear the sound of sirens and, perhaps, glance back. She would see three speeder bikes sailing after her, their fearless metallic riders grasping the handlebars with one hand and reaching for their pistols with the other. Speeder bikes did carry some heavy weapons, but every little bit of firepower one put out there counted. It remained to be seen if all of the droids would have the same luck the assassin seemed to possess however. Statistically, the chances weren't good. Jumping over a gap was hardly a safe thing to do in any circumstances and attempting during the night on Coruscant was about as far from ideal condition as one could get without throwing a Rancor into the picture. 

 

The heavier, less aerodynamic cruisers had peeled off from the speeders and were currently seeking safer routes to the assassins probable destination, a plan was already forming in their mind processors, if they could set up a roadblock and drive her into it, there was a 45.75% chance of capturing the assassin alive. 

 

IC (Pre's Estate/Paranoid Fortress, Day One)

 

As the duo proceeded through the fortress, they might have noted the materials the walls were made off. Beneath the geometric designs and whatever sparse decoration Pre felt the hall warranted, was a tough and sturdy metal. It wasn't tough enough to completely shrug off a blaster bolt, but it could easily be described as "blast resistant", it was an old Mandalorian material, not seen outside of fortresses for some time. As they proceeded to the turbolift through these halls, they would note that many of the servants that would pass them in all the hallway sported a blaster pistol in addition to their uniform. In addition to all of these, camera droids had a constant buzzing presence in the hallways, evidently running through random patrol routines. Some of them were even armed with a light blaster.

 

It would rapidly become apparent that Pre Vizsla was a very careful man. If all that they would have seen was any indication of the man's character. What would likely cement it however, would be the turbolift itself. Instead of being built into the side of the building to offer a better view of the land surrounding it, it was built into the center, making it harder to access to any enemy force. The set of guards flanking it helped to confirm that notion quite nicely. The duo would be waved through with little difficulty, as the outer guards had been in communication with their fellows and a quick scan of their facial features would confirm their identity without any verbal input on their part. Then the hunters would encounter something that shocked them.

 

As they entered the turbolift, decorated only with blue carpeting, they would see a Dug flanked by two B1 battle droids. Judging from the Dug's uniform and his aristocratic bearing, he was a being of importance and if the hunters were wise to the powers of the universe, they would recognize the symbol on his purple dress uniform as that of the Trade Federation. For his part, the Dug wouldn't appear eager to make conversation, seemingly consumed with some readouts on his datapad.

 

IC (Kalee, Jungle, Day Eleven)

 

Chianu nodded to himself, already double checking the route they would take through the jungle. He turned to regard the hunters, casually crushing a wasp the size of his head that was getting a bit to close to him as he did so. "You will keep up with us. The jungle is treacherous and the Huk will not be long in coming. We cannot afford to stop." Such was the grim reality of the war they fought. The Huk could call down fire from their fleet in orbit if the Kaleesh lingered for too long. The only reason they did not do so against the very villages of the Kalee was because of the treaty. The infernal bugs were odd creatures, they had forced his people into small sections of their rightful territory. An action that was blatantly wicked.....and yet, they stuck to their treaty even as his warriors struck at them. Chianu was certain it couldn't last. The Huk were concerned with their own race and any compunctions they had about targeting civilians were certain to vanish. 

 

In fairness to him, Chianu didn't know the whole picture. The Kaleesh had never shown much interest in the galaxy at large, keeping to their section of space and overseeing their own affairs. He didn't know of the rules of war the Republic had laid down or the horror with which mass bombardments of civilian targets inspired in most races. Chianu was a warrior and he would always think in those terms. It made for a good fighter and a lousy diplomat. 

 

The jungle loomed before the group of Kaleesh and the varied assortment of Trade Federation hirelings. The calls of a hundred creatures drifted through it, the chirp of the bird, the buzzing of a thousand insects and the howls of some far-off predator. Chianu spoke one word and one word only. "Move." Then the Kaleesh were off, weaving through trees and the underbrush with the ease of long years of practice and natural instinct. They could have moved much faster, but some lingered, moving slightly slower then the others. Chianu was a good leader, these commandos were hope for an end to the war. Leaving them to die in the jungle was hardly ideal and despite his bluster he would ensure that hunters made it to the camp.

Edited by Basilisk, Dec 12 2012 - 12:21 AM.

[Ymper Trymon]

OOC: Shall we assume that the group of Kaleesh from the desert was in some way recognized by the ones from the jungle, or shall I stick to screwing around in the sand?

[Basilisk]

OOC: I'd kinda assumed they'd met up and worked together to encircle the craft...

[Ymper Trymon]

OOC: Well, that was never actually stated, so I had no real reason to think that.

[Basilisk]

OOC: I apologize, I thought you had implied it. Completely my fault.

 

Apologies. 

Edited by Basilisk, Dec 11 2012 - 07:41 PM.

[Ymper Trymon]

OOC: These things happen. I just had them  show themselves and wait for a reaction from the other group, because that was what made sense to me.

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

OOC: Y'know, Basilisk, that Mandalorian Iron is lightsaber-proof unless you put the power level on your lightsaber up to eleven, like Exar Kun did?

 

This guy's walls could easily be more than just blaster resistant.

[Basilisk]

OOC: He has a budget y'know.

 

Now Gravity and I need a response. Type monkey! Type!

 

Rover, I'll see if I can't reconcile this. 

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

OOC: He could make it all out of stone and then plate it with Mandalorian Iron. And don't you mean you and Krayzikk, who won't be back in full until Friday? Ah, news!

 

IC-Cabur:

 

"This guy is really, really paranoid. I wonder how many of these droids have noticed the heavy blaster I brought with me, using infrared sensors. Probably all of them." He grinned his signature, cocky grin.

 

"This is going to be such a fun dinner."

[The Zytrix]

IC: Zeke, Bespin, Day 11

 

The Predator's Shadow appeared above Bespin out of hyperspace. Zeke looked out at the planet's surface.

"Run a scan of the surface," he ordered.

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Jaron:

 

It wasn't as long a walk as Jaron had mentioned, one that he and Faraxa passed in relative silence, even as he began to think. Was this truly what he needed? Another ally, another possible apprentice, when two were already there? Grimly, the bones of his face began to move, settling into a single, stone-hard, and just as impassive as stone expression.

 

If he couldn't choose any time soon, he would set them against each other, just as they did in the days of old. Make them fight to the death, and whoever remains, he'll heal and then begin to train. Whoever dies is obviously the loser. And if whoever won couldn't handle the pressure, they'd meet the same fate as did his old master's three previous students.

 

He had no time for incompetence, and he cultivated that same feeling in Jaron...that same feeling that led to Jaron's killing him later. The old man was incompetent, obsolete, unable to keep up with the times. Somebody newer, younger, was needed to continue the line. To make sure that this branch would not die out. Because they had their own plans-none as grandiose as some others, of course, but still there, and if he died, then there would be nobody after to pick up where he left off.

 

And that was unacceptable.

 

Soon he and Faraxa reached the diner, Jaron's face having slid back into its easy, laid-back expression, but with just a hint of worry. Dooku had convinced the rest of the council to give Faraxa a second chance, and that would seriously throw a kink in his plans. He couldn't allow the Jedi to take her back...no, he must cultivate her against them, somehow. First, though, food.

 

"What d'you want to order, Faraxa?"

[The Fourteenth Doctor]

IC: (Erif, Day One)

 

Erif grinned, letting his sword down. "Caution is better than anger. Of course, I expect you've been told that quite a bit."

[Floridian Citrus]

IC: Faraxa Sabosen [Coruscant; Day One]

Their walk to the diner passed in relative silence.  Relative silence.  Coruscant was never a silent place, the sounds of a planet-wide city was not something that could be silenced.  The constant hum of repulsorlifts, the blaring advertisements lining the walkways, the nonstop chatter of hundreds of conversations in hundreds of languages.  It was a lot to take in at times, and most being not used to it were overwhelmed by it all.

 

And despite living most of her life here, Faraxa found it hard to take in at times.  So she used a simple Jedi technique, retreating within herself.  She was still aware of everything going on around her, the near speeder accident happening not ten meters away, Jaron walking beside her, a holo offereing her products at "Extremely discounted prices!", but it did not effect her.  It allowed her to think and focus on her thoughts without distraction.

 

And there was much to think about, most of it relevant to one topic: The Counsil's decision.

 

The fact that they, well, some on the Counsil, were willing to give her a second chance was amazing.  Her life had been turned upsidedown when she had been, for lack of a better word, kicked out.  It left her in a daze for a time afterwards, disbelieving.  It was quickly replaced with a sense of loss, the fact that a central part of her life had been removed sinking in.  And, Faraxa wouldn't lie to herself, she had been angry at the Counsil's decision for a time.

 

She knew that it wouldn't do anything for her, and did her best to move on.  Feeling sorry for herself wouldn't help her situation in any way.  It was over, it had happened, there wasn't anything she could do about it at that moment.  Her life wasn't over, only a part of it.  A part that she could live without, even if it didn't feel like at times.  She had moved on, thanks to help from a friend.

 

Then the second shock of the day came: a hearing put forth by a few members of the Counsil to get her back in.  Once again she had been dazed by the revelation.  It was now possible that what had been ripped away from her could be returned, so why wasn't she happy?  Jaron had been right, when the Counsil made a decision, they didn't go back on it so easily.  Faraxa wasn't naturally paranoid, but in her years of a diplomat, she knew when things aren't as they first seemed.  The fact that they were willing to give her a hearing could easily just be a cover for a more discreet motivations.

 

Something wasn't right here.

 

Faraxa shook her head, not really wanting to think about it too much, and glanced over to the man walking beside her.  Tall, well built, fairly average for a human, save his mismatched eyes, Jaron had a look of deep concentration on his face.  It was something she had seen before, normally when things weren't going his way.  She would have to ask later.

 

It wasn't long untill they reached the diner, the trip not as long as Jaron first said.  Faraxa slid into the seat across from Jaron at the table, his expression more relaxed than before.  "Er..." she said, considering for a moment.  With all the things happening, food was the last thing on her mind, and she didn't feel that hungry.  But then again, she had to eat, even if her stomach was filled with confusion, worry, and apprehension.  Those things didn't do much for one's body, unfortunately.

 

"Just some hawk-bat eggs, for now."

[Flex Fiction]

IC: Camlach (Jaron's Apartment, Night 1, Coruscant)

 

Camlach sat up on the couch warily. He'd fallen asleep it seemed; he ran a gloved hand through his dark hair and checked his hip to make sure his force-saber was still there. Camlach got to his feet and began to pace, why was he still here? What did he hope to learn from Jaron? He didn't feel Jaron inside the apartment, it seems he left. Perhaps I should just carry on with my bounty...

 

OOC: His bounty is still open for him correct?

[The Snark Knight]

IC: Cyare

Cyare's eyes narrowed slightly, as she stepped into the lift, keeping her back to the wall. Neither group showed it, but she knew the droids were sizing her up as surely as she was them.

Two thoughts went through her mind. The first was one if disgust. She disliked people as high up as this Dug seemed to be. They rarely had any value save self interest, and the common arrogance was annoying.

The second was curiosity. He was headed the same direction as them. And since he.seemed to be a guest here as much as she and her partner were, that meant he was probably headed toward the dinner. What could gather a group of beings so unlikely to be found together?

[Basilisk]

IC (Kalee, Day Eleven)

 

One warrior had been left behind however. When they had seen their kin from the desert rise from their position of cover, one of the scouts attached to Chianu's unit had broken off from the group. They arrival of the desert-kin was not unexpected, they had been harassing the infernal Huk from some time now and with a large degree of success. They had only been ordered to pull back recently, as the Huk dispatched gunships in an effort to hunt down the different raiding parties. If all went well, the gunships would continue their pursuit into the jungles....and then the mobile AA positions the Kaleesh had set up in deep cover around the jungle could make the Huk pay in blood once more. The scout. Talivu Ge Qouseric, approached his brothers in arms, wading through the dense brush and rocks dotting the slope of the hill with ease and a sort of fluid grace. He made no attempt to his is approach, his brothers would be expecting him. 

 

As he neared their position, he raised his fist and slammed it into his chest, a common form of greeting on Kalee. "Brothers! Sisters! At long last we meet!" His voice was surprisingly gleeful, containing a large amount of mirth. About the last thing would expect to encounter in a brutal conflict....and yet, the Kaleesh were a tough people, more used to war and it's rigors then some other races within the galaxy.

 

IC (Bespin, Tailend of Day Eleven) 

 

The gas giant hanging in space in front the pirate's vessel was well-known as a home for various industries. The sensors would reveal hundreds of gas refineries and collectors dotting the planet. Storms raged across parts of the surface, battering the local wildlife and whatever floating cities and factories called those sectors of the planet home...such was the risk of working on a gas giant. The sensors would then detect several craft hanging in orbit above the planet. One VainGlorious class cruiser and a few smaller corvettes, likely the local security force. Other craft were moving about as well, Commerce Guild craft, Techno Union Hardcells and various other craft belonging to independent contractors. Bespin was a hub of industry and a gathering place for the wealthy that oversaw these operations. The target of many of the more expensive craft was almost certainly Cloud City.

 

OOC: Flex, I don't see why not.

 

 

Slight modification to the rules:

 

Your characters can, of course, own ships in this RPG - we aren't trying to leave you stranded on Hoth. The RPG does use a time system for traveling via ship. It takes two IC weeks to get from the Outer Rim to the Core with a class one hyperdive. For every number higher than one, add in six days to the travel time. MeUsing this core-to-rim as measurement system, if it’s half the distance then it’s half the time. So if you are traveling half the distance to the core, it’ll take one week at class one. If it’s a quarter of the distance then it’s a quarter of the time and so on and so forth. This time can be covered by a time skip. Type up a paragraph or a summary of what you did during the journey (be sure to manage your food supply wisely!) and then add the time to the day. If the RP was on day one when you left, and it takes two weeks to get there, you'll be on day fifteen. There will be time-skips on occasion so that we can keep things moving.

 

 

Edited by Basilisk, Dec 13 2012 - 12:15 AM.

[.:Advent Aeternale:.]

IC: Levi - Coruscant - Day One

 

Levi dropped the tip of his blade as well, letting out a breath, "You could certainly say that..."

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Cabur:

 

"I get the feeling that this job is going to entail a lot more than I thought originally," Cabur muttered to Cyare, seemingly ignoring the Dug and the Battle Droids in the elevator with them.

 

"Because normally there normally isn't too much love lost between the Mandalorians and the Trade Federation, and those definitely aren't the newest model of bes'uliik."

[The Snark Knight]

IC: Cyare

 

Cyare nodded, before replying just as quietly. "This representative is almost as paranoid as our host. He continues to be escorted by his droids even when surrounded by guards and security systems."

 

"They make me look friendly."

[Basilisk]

IC (Trade Federation Rep)

 

Without looking up or even missing a beat, the Dug spoke in slow, soft tones. "Fun fact: cybernetic audio-enhancers can you no matter how much you whisper." He held out one of his appendages. "Glekru. A pleasure." 

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Cabur:

 

"See, Cyare, this is why you don't make assumptions about people," Cabur said, grinning slightly as he shook the Dug's hand. "Cabur Manda. I take it you must be here for a business opportunity with Pre?"

[The Snark Knight]

IC: Cyare

Though her expression did't change, she shook.the offered hand. "Apologies, Glekru. In our line of work, one doesn't associate with beings such as yourself often. Our employers often prefer to work through a middleman."

"My name is.Cyare."

[Basilisk]

OOC: Well. This place got dead fast.

 

IC (Trade Fed Rep)

 

"You would be correct." He clicked off his datapad. "Pre has found himself in need of our droids and we were willing to pay to test them. It is...ah, a win win situation. Livefire exercises can only do much to test their abilities." 

[Ymper Trymon]

OOC: Welp, I'm not sure what to do with the Kalee situation, Aposisston can't progress until that's resolved, the Credit situation hasn't progressed, and I'm going all sloth-like on my remaining profiles.

[Basilisk]

OOC: I sent you a post regarding Kalee.

 

...Alright. Anyone who is still active sound off if you will. I need to know who's left.

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Cabur:

 

"Yep, this job is definitely going to be a different one than I thought it would be," Cabur said, rolling his eyes. 

[Constructman: Black Knight]

OOC: I might as well get back into this

 

IC: Vikentios

I sat down in a bar having another drink, contemplating whether or not to go gambling.

[Ymper Trymon]

OOC: Never mind, found the post.

 

IC(Kalee, whatever day this is): As the Kaleesh from the jungle came near, the group from the desert likewise raised their fists in greeting, the impact of each fist hitting its owner's chest (OOC: Do these guys have sternums? Somebody bug George Lucas for skeletal details.) quite audible. One member of the group (OOC: Wow, this is kind of becoming NPC-dominated for me. Kubla ibn Mosar seems to be a fairly minor character in the grand scheme of things, at the moment. Oh well. His time will come.) stepped forward, and spoke.

 

"Brother, we have traveled many days to find this place, to contribute our might to the rumoured plans of the great Khagan. We were beset on our way by the foul Huk, who hid behind their droids and floundered as dying fish in the sand. What news have you from this side of the mountains?"

Edited by Ymper Trymon, Dec 17 2012 - 11:51 PM.

[.:Advent Aeternale:.]

OOC: I'm still in. 's just taking me a bit to gather story plans.

[The Fourteenth Doctor]

OOC: I'm in. Erif ic later.

[Floridian Citrus]

OOC: Still alive and kickin'.  (read: Waiting for Jaron post, Mr. Otter.)

 

Unfortunately, I can't be killed that easily.  Sucks for ya'll, but whatever.

[Lord of Adders Black]

OOC: I sent you a post regarding Kalee.

 

...Alright. Anyone who is still active sound off if you will. I need to know who's left.

 

 

 

OOC: Reporting. Just had no idea what to do other than say "Djashell walked through the forest" a half a dozen times

 

[The Snark Knight]

OOC: Krayzikk Bieber reporting for duty.

 

IC: Cyare

 

Cyare's eyes narrowed. "Correct me if I am wrong, but the implication there is that the droids are going to be tested. And since you mentioned that live fire exercises only go so far, the obvious conclusion is that they are going to be field tested."

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Jaron:

 

"The same for me as well," Jaron agreed, his words directed to the serving droid who'd just come by him. "And a couple biscuits, as well." The droid nodded, scurrying off to deliver the order, as Jaron turned his eyes back to Faraxa, who still wasn't paying much attention to the proceedings. The Council sent her an offer, that's all well and good, but not only could that be dangerous to his plans, that could potentially do more harm to Faraxa.

 

Jaron thought for a moment, wondering just how he was supposed to get out of this. How to modify his plan such that what he needed would continue to come about. How to convince Faraxa to stay with him. On impulse he reached out his hands, grasping Faraxa's, and drawing her attention back to him. His face held the same concentration it had earlier, though his eyes were no longer as distant as before, and yet there seemed to be a slight unsureness to his features, as though he wasn't the most certain of what he would say, though that soon left.

 

"Faraxa," he said, quietly, intensely, the barest of emotion conveyed, "I can tell how surprised you are by the Council's decision to grant you a hearing, at least, to defend yourself. That is good, but I say again, that when the Jedi Council makes a decision, it doesn't normally go back on it. I can see no good coming from this-in fact, I have a feeling that this will do nothing more than cause you harm." His hands gripped hers in a firmer grip, pulling her closer as his voice dropped a bit more, drawing her into his gaze, making her listen, hanging on his every word.

 

"Still, I cannot stop you from pursuing this-that is your choice, and your choice alone. I just wish you to know that my offer, to travel with me, still stands. And I must leave soon-by the end of the day, if I can manage. So now you need to choose-if you go on to this hearing, then it will likely be months, again, maybe years, before I can see you. If you continue with me...then you know better than I what the Council might think of you." He released her hands, slowly, letting one fully true thought go through with the silent communication-he wanted her to stay with him, that he truly felt that staying with him would be better than continuing on to the Council's hearing, where he felt she would suffer more hurt.

 

"I do not wish to put you in too difficult a position, but I feel now that I must," he wearily said, leaning back in his chair. "I only wish the best for you, as I did when first we met. And I fear that the Council will only cause more hurt to you than it already has. Please, Faraxa...choose. Carefully." He closed his eyes for a moment, nearly shaking his head. He hated delivering ultimatums, and while one might say he didn't, he knew he did, in the simple meaning of his implorations: Choose me or choose the Council.

 

"And I'm sorry for likely ruining dinner, with my near ultimatum."

[Floridian Citrus]

OOC: Broooooooo.

 

Daaat poooooooost.

 

Whoooooooooooooa.

 

IC: Faraxa Sabosen [Coruscant; Day One]

 

Faraxa glanced momentarily at the server droid as it left, watching it roll away, before looking back over to Jaron.  Although, she wasn't quite looking at him as much as turned towards him.  Her thoughts were elsewhere, something that had to be quite obvious, her eyes defocused and rarely blinking.  Her lips were pressed together, and she wore an expression similar to when she was thinking over a particularly biased treaty that wasn't working in her favor.  The Devaronian momentarily flicker her gaze to Jaron.  With all that had been happening, Faraxa was beginning to feel as though the weight of the world had come crashing down on her.

 

All her life she had been solving problems, and now she had one of her own.  Still, she didn't think she was alone in this, or atleast she hoped she wasn't.  Nothing seemed clear anymore.  Before, she had simply felt what the right decision was, and then went with it.  Never before did she second-guess herself, and she found that she really didn't like not being able to make a choice.  Should she go with the Council's offer?  Would she go with it?  Faraxa realised she was still staring at Jaron, the man having a simlar expression of thought as before, and tried to come up with something to say.

 

However, he surprised her completely by taking her hands in his own, and started speaking himself after a moment's pause.  His tone was quiet, but sincere, catching her attention and almost completely pushing her previous thoughts aside.  Faraxa listened, either too stunned or focused on simply listening to comment.  Quite possibly both.  But throughout the entire thing, Faraxa was eternally glad to have a friend such as him.  A friend who would be there to help her, support her, when needed.

 

She listened silently until he finished, completely focused on what he was saying.  Eventually, Faraxa gave a small smile.  "Its okay," she said, momentarily placing her hand on his.  Faraxa gave a small sigh.  There was nothing she could do to get around it, she would have to make a choice.  Eventually, she would have had to make it anyway.  If she went with the Council's hearing, if she tried to explain, it would take weeks, or even months for a decision to finally be made.  Months of discussions that went nowhere, months of manuvering; she had done it all before, she knew how it played out.  And then, after all that time, she still might not get back in.  Then where would she be left?  It wasn't something Faraxa wanted to think about.

 

But there was still a chance, right?  Still a chance to return to her old life, to continue on serving peace.  After what happened, though, would she be okay with that old life?  Now wasn't the time to make a decision.  She had to really think it over.  She still had some time, to make a decision on the matter.  Jaron was right, she had to be sure her decision was made carefully.  Faraxa slowly removed her hand from his, and gave another small smile.

 

She still had some time.

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Jaron Unskii:

 

She would think about. She wouldn't choose now, she would just think about it. Still, that meant that he had a chance, that his plan could still have a chance to continue. He had something to be thankful for, at least. Still, if she left...he would have to find a way to convince Solei to follow him, instead of continuing to sow his doubts in Faraxa's mind, which could potentially prove to take much more energy than he was willing or able to give.

 

Faraxa, though, she trusted him. And if he slowly let slip his true allegiance, his true knowledge, his true power...than he would have more of a chance in turning Faraxa to his side. To use his knowledge to further herself, to continue the quest that he had begun. Solei...she would be harder to convince to do as he said, to continue his work. And Camlach was a killer, not a scholar. It wouldn't quite work with him, that much was certain. Though he was still useful, in a way.

 

Faraxa was easily the best choice to continue his original work. Her training, her interests...they would aid him. Solei was similar, and a second choice, though he could easily see her preferring a different path. And Camlach was least useful, least likely to do as he wanted.

 

Power drove the very last, it was a possibly lucrative benefit for the one in the middle, and it was unneeded for the first. Knowledge, meanwhile, was what the first wanted, was what the second would prefer to have-likely over power, and it was only used as a tool to gain power for the last.

 

Jaron already had his order of who he would prefer to have as his apprentice. Heh. He wondered if it had worked in a similar way with his old master.

 

"Very well," he said, finally, nodding. "Well, our dinner is nearly here-once we eat, I have a few things to attend to. I can trust that you'll send me a message soon?"

[Floridian Citrus]

IC: Faraxa Sabosen [Coruscant; Day One]

 

"Of course," Faraxa replied.  No matter what, she would let Jaron know what she chose.  Whether it be to go with him, or have faith in the Council's hearing.

 

Faith.

 

The word range throughout her mind, echoing back and forth.  It had a deep and unexpectedly profound effect on her.  Faith.  Faith in the Council.  Faith in the Jedi.  She used to have faith in them.  In their decisions.  In their actions.  But now...?  Faraxa wasn't sure.  Was the faith still there, was she still willing to risk her well being on them?  Was she willing to believe that their choices were the right ones?  Faith was a fragile thing, and her faith had been shaken.  They had kicked her out.  And now... they wanted her back?  Going back on a decision wasn't the Council.  They had kicked her out for wanting to keep the peace.

 

Faraxa's thoughts were interrupted as the server droid return with their meals.  She just really stared at the plate sitting infront of her.  Now, with a huge decision having to be made quite soon, she didn't really feel like eating.  But she had to, atleast eat something.  The meal passed in silence, both occupied with their thoughts.  Faraxa trying to make a decision that would change things entirely, while Jaron was probably thinking about what he had to go do.

 

Before, Faraxa felt that all of the choices she had been made were right.  She trusted the Force to show her the correct path.  There had always been a path layed out infront of her, one that she could clearly see.  But now, the Force was silent.  She was alone in her decision.  They finished the meal not long after, and Faraxa realised it was that much closer untill she had to make a final call.

 

She watched Jaron as he got up from the chair, before, without warning, she promply hugged him.

 

"Thank you."

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Jaron:

 

Jaron smiled, slightly, pulling Faraxa into the hug, giving her a light squeeze. It seemed that his arguments certainly had made a difference in the way that she felt...and soon, she would make her choice. He only hoped she made the one he wanted her to make.

 

After a moment he let her go, stepping back.

 

"If that's all, Faraxa," he began, quietly, "I'm afraid I must make my leave. Be seeing you." He proceeded to perform a quick about-face, stepping out the door, into the Coruscanti down-town again.

[The Fourteenth Doctor]

IC: Erif grinned, putting his staff in his belt. "Good job."