A massive cataclysm has struck the universe, and destroyed most everything in its wake. The survivors are now trying to pick up the pieces, and figure out exactly what has befallen them. Gather together, lightsiders!! The darkness has shattered the peace and calm of the galaxy...and they will do anything to stop anyone from finding out exactly what has been done! This is our first sitewide RP plotline. Lightsiders, you are looking for the source of this massive event. Clues must be found, lackeys tracked down, and bits of memory discovered. Darksiders, you guys don't want that to happen....because of the one behind the whole thing is furthering his ultimate goal. Mandalorians, and non-force users, you guys can decide where you stand on this line....do you side with the Jedi, and try to discover the reasons behind the ruined universe, or will you side with the darkness, and protect those secrets. Will the secret of the cataclysmic reaping be kept under wraps? Or will the Jedi and their allies find out the truth? Your RP and writing will decide the outcome!
BATTLE ARENA
Welcome to The Saga Continues. We have a section called the Battle Arena. Here you can use your characters to fight other characters. Hone your skills and see what you are made of. Don't worry, anything that happens here, does not effect your characters in posts, so if your character dies, you can still use them over and over. Have fun and check it out!
The Saga Continues is the product of the mind of ADMIN ADI; all contents are copyright their original owners. All characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. All images are copyright their original owners. This skin Operation Mindcrime was made by pharaoh leap of Pixel Perfect and put together by ADMIN KRYSTAL
Nystao was the ruling city on Honoghr spread on the northern face of the planet. It was located at the center of a region known as the Clean Lands, as the remaining surface of the planet was contaminated with hybrid kholm-grass seeded by the Galactic Empire. Nystao was the home of the Grand Dukha where the clan representative of the Noghri convened occasionally.
*Within minutes of our arrival in the gravity well, and shortly after contact with Elisio, Ielyn took us into the atmosphere, en route to the world's capital. As Ielyn had said before we took off, our route had been the long way around to get to Honoghr. Along the way, I privately noted that it would be an interesting military tactic to conceal a fleet near the Maw, if the goal were to interdict commute between Mandalore and Honoghr. Who knows if that ploy would ever see the light of day. But that idea had paled in comparison to the brilliance of my other suggestion..! Which no one took seriously. You see, I had thought of an excellent game which could be used as both a source of amusement by which to pass the time (the long way around was really a long time around, and if we're being honest I'm sick of sitting in this chair), and, a great way to train the neophytes to use the Force over more prolonged periods of time. The concept is simple: it's a Force-based version of gooth ball. Instead of a physical ball, you serve by emitting a Force Push, and you use Force Deflection to 'smack' this capsule of Force energy back and forth (using your hands) between players until someone messes up and fails to properly deflect the Force Push. The fact that the Iruukiine have twice as many hands would almost help level the playing field for us all. Almost. But, no, I was told that that was a silly idea and that meditation would be a better way to pass the time. And that's exactly what Tal had proceeded to do. Whatever. Maybe I'll start my own Academy and have the students there play that game every day. See who's stronger in the Force after a years' worth of that.
Anyways. Honoghr airspace. One could almost sense the optimism, the workers striving away in the medical facility, the Jedi presence, the...hope...The atmosphere is rich with it. Damage suffered, to be sure. But determination to put it to an end, all the more. Quite a bit different from the dying world which we just paid visit to. It's so funny. Because this planet is such a dump in the first place, thanks to the actions that had been taken by the Galactic Empire in order to keep the Noghri indebted, the plague is just another of a series of misfortunes to these people. You can't keep a good man down, as the saying goes, and that seems to have been the motif that this world has latched onto. There's only one hospitable stretch of land on the whole barren world, it being only the size of a major metropolitan area. And that's Nyastao. Today is a warm and cloudy afternoon on the planet Honoghr, and visibility is severely restricted. And, when it rains, Trihexalophine 1138 which has become incorporated into the hydrologic cycle is disseminated all the more. For this reason, the Clean Lands have developed an impressive system of shielding and irrigation after purifying the precipitated water. In our case, we're just thankful for the hermetic sealing of the Gamma-class shuttle. Low visibility doesn't bother us, anyways. It's not like we can see anything from the passenger hold, and Ielyn's got all of the state-of-the-art sensors at his disposal to obviate the need for line of sight. Our arrival on-planet has taken us to the northern latitudes with respect to Nystao. We'll pass over the domain Zhuk'nir, on our way in. Don't blink, or you'll miss it (well not that we can see it anyways, as just discussed), point is, it's really no more than a large neighborhood.
As we prepare for our arrival, I give my long-contemplated response to Tal's words.*
I don't bother keeping the bitterness from my voice. Ielyn is uninterested in my affairs, and our four-armed tag alongs are incapable of interpreting my words, let alone my tone. Not that it would matter overly much- the only advantage to maintaining my image in front of subordinates is to cement loyalty. Familiarity breeds contempt, as they saying goes, but who in Chaos cares? Could any of them- Ryu excepted- pose a threat to me, under literally any circumstance? I think not.
[/font][/ul][/ul] A proximity alert chose that moment to begin sounding through the cabin, and a quick glance out the viewport showed the gray exterior of a hangar bay looming through the mist.
[/font] Ielyn announced, his hands feverishly working the controls. [/ul][/ul]
[/font][/ul][/ul]
It was a matter of minutes before we came to a gentle landing in the nearly deserted hangar. I gave the mercenary a conciliatory pat on the shoulder as I rose and made my way to the lowering ramp.
[/i] an objective scale, it's still meaningless unless you're familiar with other objects and where they fall on that scale."[/font][/span][/ul] *Kriff, it feels good to be back on my feet! Off the shuttle is always a better place to be than on it...no offense intended, Ielyn. I follow suit with the others and gather my effects (on a light sider world, you never know when a ship might get impounded for groundless accusations, such as collaboration with dark siders). As Tal made his way to the ramp first - this highly protracted journey must have been even worse on his patience than mine - I walk up behind him, and we wait for the platform to fully descend before disembarking. He has given no reply to my comment yet, though to be fair I have had nothing to say about the Destroyer he's calling in, either. Frankly, I think an insurance policy isn't needed if the chance of incurring it is zero. If the fellow denizens of the universe are really nowhere near our power level, then doesn't it stand to reason that we ourselves cannot be endangered? By anything? But, that's none of my business. I gaze at the narrow shoulders of the man who stood with his back before me, roughly a decimeter shorter in height. And in this very moment, I receive a premonition of a future to be avoided at all costs. One that cannot be fleshed out or even fully articulated, but one in which I recognize the danger before him. Not of death or of injury, nor one of animosity towards me, but one with the threat of far greater sorrow. I find it strange, for I am not strong in the power of foresight, but the Force does as it will; and I realize that I must choose my words carefully. Thus, I continue on as we step down the ramp and take our first footsteps onto Honoghr territory proper.*
[/i] an objective scale of measurement. Without knowing to what application the power serves, it's all meaningless. Suppose you tell me you've got an engine that provides a kilowatt of power. That means nothing on its own, unless you tell me what you're using that power for. And, depending on what you're using it for, a kilowatt could be drastically overkill or pathetically insufficient. For instance, it would be ridiculous to use that engine to power a cybernetic implant. Likewise, if you're trying to run a battlecruiser off of it, you'll find that engine won't even manage to turn all of the ship's systems on. The point is, whether physical or metaphysical, power is always a means to an end, and not the end itself. Our metaphysical freedom is the objective of our power. So then the trick is, you are the one who defines your freedom. You are the one who gets to say what it looks like. And then we come to the crux: there are two possibilities. If you are unable to achieve your freedom with your current level of power, then you must grow your power. Or, if your freedom is easily obtained, then you must discover a new definition of freedom, and aim higher. But you should also know from experience that being more powerful than everyone else does not imply that your freedom can be attained, automatically. What you told me on Korriban -- and I'm quoting, almost verbatim, here -- was that you intend to see your power through, to a paradigmatic level whereafter all of the other Sith have no other option than to admit the folly of their ways, and likewise improve themselves or see themselves fall into irrelevancy. In that sense, you're absolutely right. It is very similar to the freedom I had had in mind to achieve when I came to see you on Kamino."[/font][/span][/ul] *I drift off into silence, nodding thoughtfully. It's a natural, logical progression. I mean, by Chaos...I think those might have been my exact words. If no one is all that powerful, then it belittles your status in being the most powerful of the lot. And, once men stop dreaming... Subconsciously, my right hand rises to the sheer surface of Devient, and my fingers trace across the cool metal along the cheekbones, down to the chin. I resume my words with a whimsical tone.*
[/font][/span][/ul] *We sweep our gazes around, trying to identify what seems to be the best candidate for an exit to this hangar. Tal points at a stairway, which used to have a digital display above it. Alas, the screens have long since shattered and we can't identify where it used to lead to, but I shrug to indicate that we can head that way. And then, beneath the mask, my brows furrow. I sense ...a swelling of animalistic aggression. Isn't it convenient that I managed to say everything I had wanted to on the topic before this forewarning reached my faculties? As I take Vol up into my left hand, just in case, I turn my head to note the Iruukiine with their comlinks out, also making their way down the ramp. I sure hope they got all that. If they can understand that, then they can understand everything it takes to be a Sith.
I chuckled. Forty-two Darths, that's a good one. Let's be honest here, though: I'm at least forty-five. I don't know whether to be disappointed by Ryu's explanation, or if I should shed my naivety with a sigh of relief. When we first met, absolute power had seemed like a towering ziggurat, ambition personified and made tangibly manifest. In a way I missed that mindset. How exciting that had been, and how terribly important I thought I was. Keeper of a secret known to only a few: the objective, irrefutable True Way.
And now, the very nature of Power was naught but the subject of idle contemplation. Reality was quickly on its way to becoming our literal plaything, to be molded or destroyed on a whim. Terrifying, isn't it? And not only for the other denizens of the galaxy, but for us as well. We're on the cusp of godhood, Ryu and I, and we've not a care in the world.
I ask, genuinely curious. There is no room for animosity between us, after all. Not anymore.
"Either way, I concede. My perception of power's nature is, in many senses, still in its infancy. I've placed it on a pedestal for so long that the thought that it could be a purely subjective tape measure seemed...disrespectful, I suppose. Like we were trodding upon the foundation of the Way. That was an important explanation you just gave me, I think. I was being held back by an imperfect understanding."[/ul][/ul]
The sudden burst of aggression doesn't go unnoticed by me, but unlike Ryu I have no weapons with which to arm myself. I don't bother drawing upon the force, either, because my resting connection to it is more than enough to meet most threats- and certainly enough to detect that whatever approaches falls well within that category. As we exit out onto the street of Nystao, I cast a glance up and down the nearly deserted street, a 'tsk' noise accompanying my gaze.
The few Noghri that litter the street are hunched, fearful things sporting rebreathers and furtive glances. They scurry between buildings, ever watchful, and we immediately draw attention. I can hear their thoughts effortlessly, like insects straying into a web. Outsiders. Plague-bringers. Danger.
*The subjective nature of power doesn't mean that all is lost, nor does it mean that the truth behind it is any less objective. Still, I've given enough lecturing for now; pursuing those points is an exercise for another time. At Tal's musing -- as to whether I would be the one to orchestrate an event that changes his idea of freedom -- I'm afraid I can give no clear and direct answer. On the one hand, it's clear that my philosophies have evolved, and so the longer I stick around, the more inevitable it becomes that his ideas will likewise reshape in due time. On the other hand, I have no 'master architecture' in mind for Tal, because a freedom dictated to you by others is no freedom at all. So in response to an ambiguous question, what he receives in reply is an all-the-more-ambiguous and ominous silence of myself, hidden behind the faceless mask. 'Not enough yet' is a good answer to get. It confirms that we're on the right track, at least as far as what I interpreted our intention so far to be. And that track is always the easier one to follow, too. It's so much more straightforward than the alternative. There's only three things that you have to do, when your purpose is to acquire power.
The first is to gain strength.
For a relatively small city, the size of Nystao is still appreciable. But, thanks to the mercenary with a nerdy streak, we'd chosen to set down the ship in a hangar not far from the medical campus. And no city, especially not a capital city, is lacking in the appropriate signage guiding the way to such important places as hospitals. So, with just a moment to adjust our bearings and locate a battered signpost that survived the plague better than the Noghri, we're on our way. It's a hike, though.*
[/span][/ul] *I gesture in the corresponding direction, and then set off without waiting for confirmation. They'll keep up, I'm sure. Three and a half kilometers, if that signpost's to be trusted. We'll make it there before the top of the hour.
The second thing is to test your power periodically.*
[/font][/span] *I'm referring, of course, to the lizard-men who seem to be regarding us offworlders as a plague by any other name.* " - hope seems to be the special of the day here. In fact I'm sure that our indifference to the plague as a whole isn't shared by this medical facility (which is famous enough for me to have heard of it). No doubt they'll be preoccupied, and I think a bit of cybernetic enhancement surgery is probably going to score low on the priorities list.""[/ul] *Well, that's my initial reaction, anyways. But even as I vocalize it, uncertainty strikes. Would all of the regular activities cease? It depends on who's left, actually. A specialist becomes a specialist at the expense of all other fields. There's a base level of training for all medical professionals, to be sure, but epidemiology is not one of the latter. Research to promote the cure of the plague will be left in the hands of the specialists. Meaning, if there's any cosmetic surgery specialists surviving, they're not going to be participating in what is sure to be the primary thrust of the hospital's research and development. They're also professional staff of a certain position-- you can bet that they won't be demeaning themselves to become errand-boys for the ones who are. So, in other words, there's a nonzero chance that someone is free to take a pair of walk-ins. Well, it won't hurt to see, will it?
The third thing you have to do is feed back the results from step two into step one, and repeat the process until your original answer changes.*