HoloNet News The Great Disease

Durr the Hutt

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Hutt Clan Crimelord

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The Gatekeeper
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It wasn’t everyday that the feature someone was watching was abruptly interrupted. That was exactly what happened in the Outer Rim and across all HoloNet channels in Hutt Space. The first thing that viewers would see was a giant Hutt, and it was clear he was angry. For the first few seconds, there was nothing but the rattling breathing that escaped him.

“Syndicates, citizens and anyone else listening,” He began with a roar, “There has been a great injustice!” He lifted his grubby and slimy fist into the air, “There is an abomination loose in the galaxy! The old myths are coming true and an infection is spreading and festering like a great disease.”

“It begins with the death of my son!”
The feed rapidly switched to footage of a man with a red, ignited saber whirling it around in a dimly lit room. The footage was graphic and showed the man unleashing lightning and using his saber to slice and cut into those around him. To the average viewer they wouldn’t be able to tell who this was, but those that knew this man decently well would be able to pick him out right away, “Look at this monster! He has mercilessly killed my men and my son! Look what walks freely in our galaxy and does what it pleases!”

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The Holonet switched to another feed. This one showed the inside of an arena on Nar Shaddaa. A pair of warriors—garbed in outfits that covered their faces—made their way through the lower levels before disappearing into the slave pits. Freed and armed gladiator slaves poured out moments later along with the pair who now wielded blue lightsabers. The footage cut out moments later when an explosion—the same one that had killed Gurrba the Hutt—ripped the recorder to pieces.

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The final feed showed two men dressed in the same garb as the invaders from Gurrba’s arena sneaking through a palace on Nal Hutta. Syndicate members had been torn apart by animals, the vault had been raided and cut open by what appeared to be a lightsaber of undetermined color, and then Dorva the Hutt and his chief bodyguards had been killed by men who were able to grip things without touching them.

After the footages were played, the camera focused back on Durr. He was practically shaking with fury, “Let me make something very clear,” His voice rumbled, “These saber wielding monsters are a threat to the galaxy. Not just because of what they’ve done to my son, but also what they can do to anyone out there. To your wife, your husband, your daughter, anyone else important to you. Let it be known that Durr the Hutt is henceforth calling for the capture of all beings like the ones you’ve seen in these footages! Five thousand credits will be granted for each saber taken from these beings and delivered to me!”

He paused for a long moment, “And ten thousand credits for anyone who can identify and bring in this particular man,” Durr said menacingly as a blurred still capture from the footage was displayed. The camera switched back to him, “Know that the galaxy is a much more dangerous place with these abominations walking within it.”

OOC: Open to reacts only.
 

Preef Callo

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Gunslinger

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Ecclessey
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<<slluuuurrrrruup>>

The delicious, although bit too salty, noodles went smoothly up and through the Rodian's lips as his eyes were fixed on the screens above the noodle-shop's bar. Hutts seemed to be in a bad place and Preef literally couldn't care less.. no, wait... nope, no kriffs given. They had turned him into an unsuccessful pickpocket in his pre-teens and then sold him to the Crimson Dawn in absentia. There were things he could forgive and forget, but that really wasn't one of them.

"Weird looking swords, though-" he remarked to the giant Trianii (@Logan) sitting next to him. "-makes you think don't it?" Without further explaining what it made him think about, Preef clumsily grabbed more noodles with his chopsticks and brought them to his mouth for another much-enjoyed slurp.

Truth is, the young rodian didn't really understand what any of this meant or what it would cause in the long run. By sewer-aged Hutta Moonshine he sure as hell didn't know that a Jedi, of which he had only ever heard faint mentions, didn't usually carry a red lightsaber.

"I know Hutticide is a big deal and all," he continued after a very satisfying gulp, "but five thousand credits for a sword, that's crazy steep."

Maybe Kholvar would explain to him one day, or maybe that day, that getting a lightsaber meant having to kill its wielder and that that was something the young rodian gunslinger with his below average intellect certainly wasn't capable of doing. Getting a normal vibrosword and just painting it red or blue wouldn't do the trick, either.

 

Lilith Vye

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Citizen

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Dread
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It was only shortly after the whole debacle that Alais saw the holobroadcast. She was on the holonews. That was one of the very last things a slicer wanted, but thankfully her face was covered. Because of the anonymity it gave her she felt a little better and her focus shifted to the red lightsaber.

She'd never seen a red lightsaber before. In fact, she had no clue they came in other colors. She'd only seen and used the blue ones that she'd found. One was still on her belt. Plucking it from her hip she looked at it again, still feeling the connection it had to the Force. It reminded her that she'd soon be meeting Tal to hand over the holocron in exchange for more training in the Force. With whom she'd train with she wasn't sure, but Tal had made it clear that they could train her properly in the Force, unlike the Jedi.

Part of her still wanted to meet another Jedi. She'd kicked the first one out quickly because she hadn't liked his recklessness, but never really delved into how the Jedi used Force, or found out why they didn't use it properly. Maybe Tal had the answers.
 

Rynn Itera

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Citizen

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TWD26
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Rynn, the foundling, had only been traveling the galaxy for a few short months, he had met a lot of people and most of them annoyed him more than anything. He had just completed a small hunt, a measly 400 credits, but it was at least something. He sat on cargo crate, watching out over the grey plains of some backwater planet. The Holo-Player playing in the background.

"These saber weilding monsters!"


The young boy would turn towards the flickering images, his hands slowly squeezing against his knees, as images of Nara and the others came across his mind. "Those bloody wizards," he'd wheeze and cough, "they annoy the living kriff out of me." He'd move to turn the news off, but stopped at the mention of the reward.

This could be my big break...

 

Talak Rand

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Jedi Order
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Jedi Knight

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Phoenix
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Actions have consequences. It was a longstanding truth that people tried to outrun their actions, but the Force or karma or destiny or whatever you called it would eventually catch up to you. He watched the video feed and knew that all of it was of him and others with him, and as the images played out he could feel his gut drop. He knew this was coming. It had been inevitable after what he'd done, but you could only do so much to brace for someone putting a death mark on your head. It felt... surreal.

Well, kark, he muttered quietly as the images played again. He hoped he hadn't made a monumental mistake, but then his thoughts turned to Fancy and the other girls. He had once believed that his life - because of its potential - was far more valuable than the lives of others, but he recognized the arrogance in that view. He realized that there were people in the galaxy that he would have rolled over and died to protect without hesitation. That didn't have a place in the Sith Eternal did it?

And then there's the Sith Eternal... he thought to himself. It was a whole different problem that he'd have to face. On the one hand, he'd drummed up the misinformation that Jedi were involved. It had turned the galaxy against the Jedi as well, and that might work out to their advantage, but it also risked the knowledge of a dark side sect being in the galaxy. Of course, 99.99999% of the galaxy couldn't tell the difference between a Jedi and a not-Jedi, so it wasn't the end of the Order. If we go after the criminals, they were bound to get wise eventually, he thought to himself. Very little had actually been revealed yet, and he hoped the gains of misinformation would be viewed as more productive than the potential damage. He only hoped that the Eternal would see it the same way.

And then there was the cause. The Sith Eternal existed to destroy large swaths of the galaxy in part to destroy the crime and corruption that festered there. It seemed Talak had just kicked off an underworld war by his actions. If the Sith Eternal became more focused on tearing into the Syndicates in lieu of attacking civilian targets, Talak wouldn't regret that.

His knuckles rapped against the back of the couch nervously, and the minutes ticked by as he just stood there and watched.

Durr... he muttered the name as he watched the bulbous slug spout about how terrible and atrocious Talak was. Talak was terrible? Your son who dealt in... he didn't even finish the thought, shaking his head in disgust.

Your actions'll catch up to you, too... he said, before flipping the display off. He had a whole lot of work to do, didn't he? People were going to be coming for him, and he needed to be ready. The Sith Eternal are both hunter and prey, he reminded himself, thinking back to those training sessions on Kashyyyk. He would hunt and be hunted... this seemed to be his path, and he couldn't - or wouldn't - turn back now.
 

Kholvar Varaxes

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Logan
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Sitting in the noodle shop with his buddy Preef, Kholvar probably looked a tad ridiculous. Instead of using the chopsticks provided, the large feline chose to swirl the noodles around a fork, then place that fork on a spoon, then put it into his mouth. The idea of getting noodle juice on his otherwise pristine fur nearly made Kholvar recoil. Gross.

When the holonet address came streaming across the screen, Kholvar couldn't help but chuckle a bit. The Hutt blubbering on the television really had no idea the can of worms he was opening with a declaration like that. Kholvar had seen those that called themselves Sith Eternal, hell, he was currently being trained by one. Of course, he'd had the foresight in keeping that an extreme secret, so this new crusade didn't scare him much.

"Five thousand isn't even close to enough," He said, putting some more noodles into his mouth. Kholvar thought back to when he bled his own kyber crystal in that cave with Melkor. The trauma he had to go through to earn his lightsaber was considerable. He knew that those that had one would do everything in their power to keep it. "But it's enough to chum the waters."

Finishing up his noodles, Kholvar took a thick cigar from the pocket of his jacket and lit it, his thoughts drifting lazily to the dull metal hilt of his own lightsaber currently hidden in one of the smuggling compartments on his ship. A wry smile creased his lips, thick plumes of smoke billowing from his nose.
 
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Tsavo Vivar

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Jedi Order
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Jedi Knight

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Kallus
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Tsavo was sitting down to a quiet meal in a starport when the commotion caught his attention, begins crowding around their screens in rapt attention as more jammed in close to eagerly listen. The whole feeling of the crowd through the force had shifted from the normal buzz of living beings moving about their lives to an unsettling vibration of aggression, fear, and worry. As jarring as it was he was always one to attempt to satisfy his curiosity and pressed himself in amongst the crowd that had formed around one of the large public screens.

"Oh no. by the force no."

What struck him first was the carnage of the raid, the wholesale slaughter of guards by the saber wielders as well as the freed gladiators, and his stomach dropped at the mention of the Hutt's murdered son. The jedi, while not named, were going to be blamed for this atrocity simply by being the only well known organization of force users still in the galaxy. It didn't matter that such actions broke the code that they lived by, it didn't matter if those responsible were ones who had strayed from the light or simply unaffiliated with the order at all. there was now a bounty on every lightsaber in the galaxy, and thus on every jedi in the galaxy.

Bowing his head in abject sorrow Tsavo stepped away from the buzzing crowd and made is way to the departures gate. He had to return to the temple and quickly.


 

Trys Aran

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Lieutenant

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Sreeya
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Naturally, the footages and HoloNet address went viral almost at once. It didn’t take long for it to make its way into the Inner Rim and Deep Core. It was late at night in one of the more modest districts on Coruscant, the streets outside quiet.

“Yo ma!” A teen boy’s voice rang out from the couch he was sitting on. He was in a medium sized apartment he shared with his mother. He had a datapad he was viewing the viral video through, and his eyes were wide with interest. He was a half Zabrak, his features those of a rather handsome young human with the addition of some skin markings and protruding horns.

“What?” Trys called out from the kitchen, grimacing down at the confusing recipe she was trying to follow. ‘Dinner’ was now looking like a strange, acidic green goop and beginning to smoke. She prodded it with a spoon, very close to telling her son to simply call for delivery. She had wanted to do the domestic thing and cook, and it promptly went sideways.

“You’re gonna wanna see this!” Crix sprang up from the couch, rushing over to the kitchen. He shoved the datapad in her face, “Weirdos running loose in the galaxy with their lightswords!” He looked positively thrilled, “Didn’t you say you were following a lead on this?”

Trys gave him a sharp look, “No, I never said that.”

Crix coughed and scratched between two of his horns on his head, “Uh well I probably overheard you and...look, whatever, just watch this!”

She rolled her eyes and began to watch the footage. Within seconds, her jaw dropped, eyes widening. Her heart began to beat rapidly as she began to see for the first time what had happened while she was drugged back on Gamorr. She saw the figure that caused destruction and could vaguely make out Talak. The sight sent a chill down her spine, and everything from a few weeks prior came flooding back.

Trys felt sick to her stomach, trying not to let any of it show externally. Crix was having a great time of it, replaying the footages over and over again.

“This is some cool shit,” He said excitedly, “Are you gonna go chase these people down?! I wonder what it's like to wave one of those blades around. I bet they're super light!”

“Watch your language,” Trys said sternly, scowling at him, “And my work is none of your business. Now order some bantha burgers because I kriffed dinner up.”

“....You just told me about langua-”

“No arguments, kid,” Trys waved the wooden spoon around menacingly. Crix rolled his eyes and wandered off sulkily to order their dinner for the evening. She was left alone in the kitchen, truly shaken to the core. She thought about what this meant - whether this would truly mean she would have to hunt Talak. Trys cursed internally, wanting nothing more than to punch the wall nearest her.

She had gotten herself into a deep mess.
 

Izel Thral

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Jedi Order
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Jedi Master

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Reyn
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Izel and her master stood cloaked and hooded at the back of a crowd, watching the vid play out. As the young Padawan was gripped with mounting panic her master simply sighed.

"Well... Tha'ts problematic..." The human said with his typical candor.

"What are we going to do?" Izel asked in a frightened voice barely contained to a whisper. "Every bounty hunter and mercenary will be looking for us now! They won't make any distinction between Jedi and Sith, they're going to--"

"Relax," Master Reev said calmly as he put a hand on Izel's shoulder and led her as they began walking away from the crowd. "We're smarter than bounty hunters and mercenaries, we just keep our heads down and go about our business and everything will be fine."

"But--" Izel started nervously, her master holding up a hand to stop her.

"Izel," He started gently. "This isn't the first time the galaxy has taken a hostile turn with Force wielders and it won't be the last. We've survived before. We'll survive this time. The Jedi always endure. Remember the code. Remember your training. You will be just fine." He looked around, taking notice of the militant types already seeming to be gearing up to hunt some Force sensitives. "I want you to get back to the ship and call your family. Tell them you're alright and everything is fine. They'll be worried about you." He patted her on the shoulder. "I'll handle things here. Then we'll be back on our way to Ajan Kloss where it's safe."

"Yes Master..." Izel answered him with a sigh, and separated from the Jedi Knight to comply with his order. Master Reev was never worried about anything. But she couldn't help but feel the tension in the air. Her senses were telling her there were a lot of people eager to kill her, and her master, and her friends. Things had changed. There'd be no more fun adventures with the Order. Something in her gut told her that. It was a fight for survival now. All there was to do was to wait to see who made the first move...
 

Darmus Onn

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Darmus was still on Rodia, sitting in that same cantina, wondering where Uvren and Atuu had gone. Shaddaa Blues hummed from his TDS-400 portable computer as he watched, to remain in cover, the podracers on Nar Shaddaa. Shaddaa had without a doubt the toughest competition as the laissez faire rule of law on syndicate worlds combined with the giant wealth of the Hutts made sure the most talented racers competed on the Smuggler's Moon. It was, especially after a third or fourth Corellian whiskey, especially if you couldn't really remember, the best sort of entertainment to bring on a digital stakeout.

It was getting late on Rodia and Darmus' eyelids became heavier and heavier and the old rodian lady in the corner was eyeing him carefully to see if she could pick his pockets after he fell asleep. That is, until his computer screen flashed bright white and then showed the ugliest Hutt he had ever seen. Cranking up the volume of the broadcast, Darmus listened and watched the Hutt speak of horrible crimes, which seemed hypocritical given Durr's reputation, but still it caught the ranger's interest.

The images sure didn't lie. "Kriffing Jedi-" the forty-something human muttered as he felt his heart sank in shock. If this was true... if the Jedi really did slaughter all these people, then... kriff, the rangers didn't stand a chance. He might be a craven, but he got as old as he was because of it. There wasn't a single fiber in his body that felt like he had to pursue the Jedi and arrest people who could fry his brain with a spark of literal lightning. No Sirree. This wasn't the kind of crime he had signed up for the fight.

For an entire minute after the broadcast had ended Darmus had sat there in silence, contemplating no doubt about the actions he should or shouldn't take, until finally he popped his head up above his computer and addressed the rodian waitress; "Get me another Corellian Whiskey-" his voice was shaky but it also betrayed he was certain of his decided course of action, "-I'm gonna stay here a while longer."

 

The Eternal

Character
Sith Order
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Dark Lord of the Sith

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The Gatekeeper
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The Eternal's gloved hands drummed against his chair. Those around could feel the cold, churning anger within him. But his people's misadventures were two pronged. One: the issue of this blatant disobedience. Two: the Jedi's new found hindrance.

While those involved, if found, would face punishment worse than their darkest, most horrific nightmares, The Eternal was far too old to let the amusement of this situation escape him.

He'd capitalize on the Jedi's misfortune—on the potentially annoying and expendable light siders. Fresh seeds of distrust were sewn throughout the galaxy now, done in a single declaration. Every single seed could not be uprooted no matter how much the Jedi struggled, and he'd nurture those seeds until they bloomed into destruction the Jedi hadn't faced in centuries.

In the end, no matter how much he had done to delay it, he knew this day was inevitable. As his people grew both in numbers and power, they'd plummet deeper and deeper into the Dark Side. And as they explored it's seducing depths, their hunger would grow. Oh yes, he was no fool. He was ready.

His lips curled into something monstrous, and a single line crept from his lips, "Let the games begin."
 

Oota Boan

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Jedi Order
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Grandmaster

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The Gatekeeper
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Birds chirped incessantly outside, their lilting song a mellifluous tenor that even he had difficulty concentrating on today. The galaxy was in a state of upheaval and unrest; first, the unsettling news of the Knights of Ren from his meeting with Jedi Knights Devan and Maryk; now there seemed to be an ever-growing hunger in the galaxy, hiding in the periphery of the Jedi – always there, watching, but never seen directly. Whatever was conspiring against them did so from the shadows, and the rumors floating about of what it could be were unsettling and held grave implications were they true.

Jedi Grandmaster Oota Boan had just returned from an Outer Rim humanitarian mission with a few other Jedi and was now spending the afternoon relaxing and meditating on the nature of the Force. Ajan Kloss was abuzz with activity as Jedi darted in and out on their daily business, but the Grandmaster paid little heed; they were busy with their own activities but paid the Grandmaster his respects whenever he passed. Most of the conversations he had with those around the temple were to gauge the state of the Order and its preparedness, as well as ensure its members were keeping up with their duties.

A Jedi’s work was never done, and thus his conversations were succinct as he passed from Jedi to Jedi. He had made his way to the mess hall, where scores of Jedi gathered and caught up with each other’s activities over the months. The Force was stirring with excitement here with such a densely-packed room of Jedi, and Oota Boan enjoyed the warm feeling that washed over him whenever he saw the camaraderie of the Order. It didn’t matter who it was, the Jedi looked out for others, and the close bond they shared would see them triumphant over evil any day.

The HoloNet screens around the room kept them updated on happenings in the Outer Rim and galaxy at large while they ate, and Oota Boan gave it a passing glance before he turned to leave to meditate. Suddenly, the news was cut off, and the corpulent image of Durr the Hutt drew the attention of every Jedi in the room. Conversations died immediately and a wave of silence swept across the room as everyone present turned to watch with interest.

The images shown were greatly unsettling, and with every passing second the Grandmaster grew more and more concerned. Whomever this merciless individual – or individuals – claimed to be, they were no Jedi. Yet in a few cruel, callous strokes of their lightsaber and liberal applications of the Dark Side of the Force, they shattered the trust the Jedi had built up with the people of the galaxy. The ordinary citizen would not know the difference between one lightsaber-wielder versus another, and this greatly harmed the image of the Jedi Order. Every new recording on screen bothered Oota Boan as he watched evil’s soft, first touches grip the galaxy in a vice of fear and pain. A bounty on those who carried lightsabers would make life very, very difficult, and now the Order would find itself as it had found itself numerous times – on the defensive. It was easy to rally a scared and confused populace against those who were so much more different than them, and this fearmongering would work excellently in the favor of the darkness.

It took him several moments to realize it, but every head in the room had turned to regard the Grandmaster with confusion. What were they to do? Would they need to return to hiding? How would they combat this? Could they combat it? What of their humanitarian efforts? What of their efforts to explore the Unknown Regions to find the source of this growing darkness?

They needed answers that he didn’t have yet. They needed answers that only the Force could provide them, but the Council needed to deliberate. The Grandmaster’s chest rose and fell with a shudder and he looked at every Jedi present. He wasn’t sure what to say to appease them, to calm them, but they needed to trust in the Force.

”The darkness is rising once more,” he intoned to the room of Jedi, ”And the Light must rise to meet it.”
 

Vayla Mirana

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Jedi Order
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Jedi Knight

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Die Shize
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Jan 7, 2020
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Aboard her ship, Star’s Sanctum, Vayla Mirana knelt in the training chamber with her eyes closed. The walls around her curled inward and curved outward, taking on a hundred shapes and no shapes; as formless as water on a tranquil sea. The whole galaxy was closing in around her but she did not resist the force. She held her own form, silent and still, calmly breathing in the fragrance of incense burning in the bowl before her. Scents of myrrh and balsam blossomed beside wood and pepper; aromatic ataraxy that cradled the Jedi’s very essence. She breathed out. Fear escaped her nostrils like fumes from a fire, and she felt them pass over wisps of smoke with sparse resistance.

Emotion, yet peace.

Behind her eyelids were the visions of a lifetime. She saw her home on Pantora, her brothers and sisters and her small self toiling in the fields, her mother in the kitchen and her father on the machines. Her old master, Kint Hashis, sparring her with pen and sword. Ajan Kloss, with wooden spires that scraped the sky, standing tall like sentinels as the Jedi Order did today. What was her family doing now? Where was her master? How were her fellow Jedi fairing across the cosmos? For all she knew, she did not know, and questions and answers were as entangled as branches in a forest.

Ignorance, yet knowledge.

“Vayla?”

Kint?

“Vayla, are you there?”

Vayla blinked herself out of her trance, recognizing the voice over her comlink. “Yes, Aron,” she replied with some uncertainty. “I’m here. What’s wrong?” The wavering in her Jedi friend’s voice was unmistakable.

“I assumed you knew and that’s why you weren’t answering... Turn on the news, Vayla. It’s...it’s bad.”

She hesitated, trying to predict whatever she might see, then retrieved her datapad. “Doing so now. I’ll call you back, okay?” A repeat broadcast was streaming over the HoloNet and Vayla watched it from the beginning.

There was a babbling Hutt who was visibly distraught, and the footage that followed was downright disturbing. Vayla bit her lip at what she saw. The red blade of a lightsaber carved across its victims, severing limbs and spraying blood, and the hand that wielded slaughter had even unleashed lightning that fried flesh and ignited flames. The feeds continued, from twin lightsabers with blue hues to ensuing violence amid pits and slaves, culminating in an explosion, more death, then another explosion that Vayla felt through the Force, one that would shake the galaxy.

The host of this broadcast continued and, just like that, every single being who possessed a lightsaber was now a potential target. Jedi, Sith, or anyone beyond and between, had just had their existence twisted upside down. Kloss. If I watched this moments later then they must already know. What will we do? After a moment of letting her gaze linger on the red-bladed shadow paused on the screen, Vayla turned off the datapad and retrieved her comlink.

“Aron, are you there?”

“I’m here, Vayla…”

“Bad doesn’t begin to describe this. Bounties are one thing—butchers are quite another. One might have been a Sith, but...those others? I…”

“I know… It’s like the stories we’ve been told. And we won’t just have hunters hunting us, but Sector Rangers. This Hutt’s idea of breaking news has just jeopardized the entire Jedi Order.”

Vayla thought about that for a moment before breathing resolve into her chest. “No, Aron. The ones wielding those lightsabers did that. Everything else is just a reaction.”

“Well, I’ll be laying low for now, as best I can in my clinic. What will you do?”

“Find some answers. I’ll contact you when I can. Be careful.”

“You too.”

With that, Vayla rose to her feet and exited the training chamber to pace the corridors of her ship, leaving the incense to burn behind her. Her shoulders were suddenly heavy. ‘Disturbance in the Force’ was its own understatement, and she could only imagine what Grandmaster Boan must be feeling right now. How many other Jedi watched the video? How many had yet to? Who among her people were in danger this very moment? What about her Padawan, Ke Eoto? Who was on the feed? Where are you now? What do you want? Who are you? Red? Blue? Who?

Before she knew it, Vayla was standing in her cockpit, running a lone finger up the hilt of her lightsaber at her hip. It was cold, and in her hand it was heavy. Taking a seat, she cradled the weapon in her lap as if it might aid her thoughts, and stared into the space outside her window. Distant stars blinked at her, their lights dimmer than before, and maybe a few degrees cooler. Stars. We were all born from them. From the light. Their progeny. Some of us, though...some of us are the progeny of the darkness between the stars...

Calming her nerves, she entered a destination on her console and plotted a course. Where she was going, she surely would not be alone on the journey, but there was a place beyond the stars that only Vayla Mirana could get to. It will take more than a ship to get me there. For now, the immediate location was Ajan Kloss, home of the Jedi Order, and her apprentice and her people needed her boots on the soil first and foremost. I'll make sure that our sanctum is secure, and then I'll fly back to the stars, that I might help feed their fires and keep the darkness at bay.
 
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Etr Wyara

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Etr happened to catch the news while running errands for Jon Kabian. The slave saw the workings of the weapon and marveled at the price of the bounty.
"That sure is a steep price for a sword."
He said aloud. In truth he was quite glad the hutt was dead and he was glad his guards were dead and he was glad their vault was raided. He hated Hutts, almost as much as he hated The 5 syndicates but hutts... they always seemed like the heads of These organizations and they always had slaves... like him.
Good. I hope it hurt you slimy Slug
He thought to himself. He never felt such a visceral Hatred for a group of beings and such an overwhelming satisfaction at their fate. He felt like it was a blow stuck and he was grateful for the red lightsabered lads who slew that scumbag and he wished someone would slay more.
 

It0

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Tic
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It0’s manipulators moved with unnatural grace and precision as he worked to stave the bloody wound. The wound’s owner, a particularly churlish human loanshark who worked part-time for the Crymorah Syndicate, writhed and thrashed on the floor beneath the droid. The medical droid was still uncertain whether pain or anger motivated the organic’s wild gesticulations.

“Please remain still.” he instructed the surly human who in turn paid him no mind and continued on with his exaggerated movements.

“Can’t believe that karking Twi’lek had the stones to come after me with a vibroblade…” he growled, grinding a meaty fist into his calloused palm. “...I’ll grind him to Bantha Paste!”

“This will go faster if you remain still.” It0 advised. His work as a street-doc for the Crymorah had very few stipulations. Most of his “housecalls” took him to the seediest dungholes Nar Shaddaa had to offer. He had stitched up conmen and flunkies in every alleyway, flophouse and two-credit cantina on this side of Nal Hutta. Nevertheless, a compliant patient was preferable.

Tonight’s environs were no exception to the pattern. Another nondescript hole-in-the-wall bar on Nar Shaddaa’s lower levels. The only visible sign of patronage was a fresh spackling of blood. If there had been staff or other customers prior to It0’s arrival the scene, they had wisely moved on in an effort to avoid the irate loanshark’s anger.

A particular static-raked HoloNet sputtered in the far corner behind the bar, a grainy depictions of a recent ShockBall match barely visible from their vantage point. The miniscule players abruptly cut away and were replaced by a Hutt. And a particularly large and irate example of his species at that.

“...that druk doesn’t know who he messed with this time. When I get done with him, his own mother won’t recognize him…”

It0’s strained his audio-receptors to decipher precisely what had angered the Hutt so stridently, but his unruly patient made such an effort an impossibility.

“I must insist you be silent.” It0 remarked to no effect.

“...I’m not just some carbon farmer off a transport. I know people! I’ve met Havfen in person! One comm call and I could have that…”

The Hutt was now intersplicing footage of assorted violence, the perpetrators all wielding a similar laser-bladed weapon. The image cut back to the Hutt who was waving his flabby appendages virulently.

It0 brought his manipulator pincers together and delivered a sharp chopping blow to the back of the loanshark’s head. His patient slumped limply to the floor where he proceeded to bleed and snore.

“...Five thousand credits will be granted for each saber taken from these beings and delivered to me!” the Hutt roared, “And ten thousand credits for anyone who can identify and bring in this particular man. Know that the galaxy is a much more dangerous place with these abominations walking within it.”

The HoloNet sputtered and crackled once more before returning to ShockBall highlights. With his patient now prone and motionless, It0’s task was much easier. The bruising at the crown of the skull would require a cold compress and a Bactapad, but the medical droid deemed the expense worthwhile. Such a reward would draw even more bounty hunters to Nar Shaddaa than usual, and bounty hunters brought violence. And for a street-doc, violence meant credits.

Besides, he reasoned, he could bill for the cold compress and Bactapad anyway.
 
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Jeyten Dres

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AfroBandit20
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"You've gotta be kiddin' me..." Jey muttered under his breath over what had just transpired. After finally repairing his family lightsaber, after finally feeling as if he was embracing his destiny - it was all ripped away from him. He already had a bounty on him by some Hutts on Nar Shaddaa, but now this too? The teen let out a long sigh while hanging his head back and stared at the Kath Hound's ceiling. Damn Hutts were the bane on Jey's life.

Hearing of Jey's frustration, Scouty entered the Kath Hound's lounge and expressed a concerned beep, before hopping on the angular couch next to his owner. The teen smiled at his droid companion and patted his head "Yeah, I'm good... we just gotta lie low for a bit." he informed the small droid, annoyed that this bounty was bound to interfere with his search for his father.
 
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