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
*As Aedon woke up in the morning hours, the dim accent lighting of the apartment began to brighten to an accommodating level thanks to the motion sensors installed throughout the place. He sat up in bed, stretching his arms out before him and past his knees. As soon as he felt like he was stretching as far as his body would allow, he held there, starting to think on what his strategy for contacting Gorvun was going to be. There was a back door built into the dark web of the Holonet, of course...Gorvun had already made certain to "employ" someone of sufficient technological prowess in order to do so. Aedon found the node easily enough. Now, it was just a matter of setting up the meet in a clandestine manner. Before "The Red", Aedon had friends and contacts he had developed during his formative years as a young hustler. Lekki had gotten him a job back then working the local speeder docks. The idea was to teach him responsibility. The execution of that idea, however...well, it didn't quite work out the way it likely should have.*
*Aedon was a diligent worker. The slums had shipments just like any other place. It was his responsibility to see that they were distributed accordingly. He had a boss and mentor, though - Esmeralda. She was like him - a Zeltron - and likely one of the only ones working in the Amethyst District that didn't make their money laying on their backs (males included). Instead, she used her charms to make deals that benefited the District. Shipments sometimes had "damaged" product that couldn't be shipped back, but they wouldn't pay for - or, to help the driver of the speed-freighter, she would simply ask for at a discounted price. For outbound shipments, she would make deals on freight to get them shipped cheaper, or make it so something "fell off the truck" to make it worth the driver's compliance on the next run. The local businesses knew about it, but didn't care. There were insurance claims that could cover the cost. The corners she would cut would save the District credits and help the local shop owners as well. It was a beneficial arrangement, and one that she made sure Aedon learned quite well. On top of that, she knew about his situation. He lived with a Verpine - the bug race that was known for their adept nature with technology. His father wasn't in the picture. Esmeralda actually knew Aedon's mother before she passed away. They were good friends. So, when Aedon showed up at her dock, and she noticed his startling hair color that was the same shade as Loreah's, it wasn't too difficult to put two and two together.*
*Since the Red, Aedon hadn't seen Ez. He sincerely hoped she was able to get off-world. The same way that he hoped his caretaker, Lekki, had either made it to the city above, or gotten clear of this whole thing before it went to shavit. Of the few people he had actually seen and knew from before, they didn't travel in the same circles as Ez. None of them had seen Lekki, though.*
*Aedon feared the worst.*
*Aedon swung his legs over the edge of the bed and slid out to stand up on the floor. He reached up, giving his neck a good rub and a light push, stretching the muscles out and feeling his spinal cord release some tension with a few "POP" noises. He spent the next little while limbering up and doing a few exercises to wake himself, get the blood flowing.*
*The next few hours would be crucial to Aedon's plans. He needed to fuel his rested body, so he ate the first decent meal he'd had in quite some time. There were also a few dietary supplements in the form of Nourish Bars that were formulated to enhance mental acuity and physical aptitude which Aedon gladly ate. He needed to be firing on all drives when it came time to negotiate with the Houk. And as soon as he felt the Nourish Bars begin to take effect, he did exactly that.*
*It was a small matter to set up a terminal connection, but Aedon didn't want their expert hacker to have the perfect opportunity to trace his signal back to the safehouse. So, he started by setting up three false-flag signals that were satellite terminals in the area. Each connection was then redundantly-copied and bounced off of each other, which created a bit of lag time, but once the signal would reach its destination, enough of the data would parse itself together and the signal would resolve itself. Aedon pictured it like a river opening up to a lake, and then flowing back into a continuing river on the other side. From there, it was as simple as finding the backdoor that Gorvun's slicer had made, and sending the initiating contact holo-mail that would get the process started. It would hold the generic salutation, Aedon's name, and a capture or two of a few of the items he had to barter with, hopefully whetting Gorvun's appetite to see what else he had in store. The message would read as follows:*
"To the Boss, Gorvun Knae:
A proposal, for your consideration: The items shown above, and a great deal more, could be yours if we can come to an amicable arrangement. I'm certain you must be aware of what I want in exchange for these treasures, and it's indisputable that you will want to contact me soon to cement the accord. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Sincerely, Aedon Montrose"
((That should be enough of a lure for him. Felt like I really had to stretch for some of them words, though. Glad the Holonet comes with a thesaurus...))
*The remainder of his morning was spent in waiting, but he wasn't idle. Instead, he was now playing the defensive. Monitoring his satellite terminals for any probe attempts, watching his surveillance for any searching eyes or wandering ferals. He'd eventually have to have a face-to-face with Gorvun, but for now, he was just glad to be safe and alone with his thoughts.*
ABOUT Aedon Gavin Montrose
Alias
"Gav" to his closest friends
Age
17
Pronouns
Male-inclusive is fine (he, him, his, etc.)
*Even as Aedon sat behind the burned-out speeder, the victor and survivor of this encounter, he was having a difficult time calming down. The look in his amethyst eyes was wild, that of a hunted creature still on the escape. His arms continued to balance the pistol in his hands for a few minutes longer. Breathing deep and slow, he did everything he could to calm himself. It wouldn't do to have him sitting in this square all night, wasting what precious time and energy he still had. He was beginning to feel it; the effects of sleep deprivation and malnutrition were taking their toll on him. He had been rationing what few supplies he had found, taking care not to eat into what he had to offer to Gorvun. He needed this stockpile to be as favorable as possible; he needed it for his plan to work.*
*It HAD to work. Otherwise, Aedon was going to go mad.*
*Aedon finally felt his pulse begin to slow. He became less-pensive, able to rationalize his surroundings and determine his next moves with careful, calm precision. Standing from behind the speeder, he grabbed up his backpack. He slung it over his shoulder as he rounded the speeder onto the sidewalk, taking the nearby alleyway down into the section of the District that he had carefully mapped out and cultivated into his own personal safe zone. Every once in a while, he would pass a nearby structure, stopping here and there at seemingly-innocuous intervals. By all appearances, he was just checking corners, looking into windows, watching out for ferals. In reality, he was standing on pressure plates at certain points for a certain amount of time, activating the next gateway and checkpoint for his movement into his sanctuary. It also gave him a moment to check reflections in the nearby buildings, watching behind and beside him for anyone trying to tail him back to his hideout. If at any point he felt like he was being watched or followed, he would simply leave the trail. The pads would reset, as well as whatever tripwires and such that he had taken care to implement along the trail. At that point, he would have to find another point of ingress, from either doubling back to the first pad on the current path, or start off on another side of the block.*
*However, for all the world, no one was there to bother him. It was still just...*
*...Too quiet...*
*He rounded the final corner that led down into an alley. Reaching down into his pocket, he depressed the small key fob that he had there, and it sent out the signal to intermittently deactivate the tripwires he had installed. These were attached to a few wireless sensors that would transmit a signal to various "noisemakers" he had installed in storefronts and such down the way. If ferals were suddenly curious about this particular alleyway, and made their way down, the wire sends the signal, the "noisemaker" goes off, and they're drawn towards that sound. If they're quick enough to make it to where the sound is going off, then a pressure-plated explosion goes off, and takes out the kriffer that was dumb enough to go digging. It was a simplistic system, and one that had kept Aedon safe enough for the time being. Well, that, and the fact that his only point of ingress into the safehouse he had was three stories up in this alleyway, and only he knew the means by which to access it. There was a slow way, for times like now when he had done his due diligence and made sure he wasn't being tracked; and a quick way, in case he was being followed by the kind of things that had intent to kill a person.*
*Aedon was heading for the slow way. On the right side of the alleyway was a stack of crates that was positioned just so someone with a decent amount of agility and acrobatic skill could traverse them. Good, solid durasteel crates that Aedon had to "acquire" a repulsorlift just to move them into place. It was weird, though...the repulsorlift looked oddly-personalized. It even had an embossed nameplate on its control arm...*
*...With the initials "RCG"...*
*What was even crazier? Aedon used the lift, and then pulled it off somewhere so it didn't attract any attention. When he went to get it the next time he was looking to move something, it was already gone...*
*But that was neither here nor there. Aedon's focus was on getting into his hide-away, and so, the climb began. He tossed his backpack onto the second story of the fire escape in front of him. Following that, he turned around, jogging back and digging in as he about-faced toward the escalating crates. In a practiced, fluid motion, Aedon gracefully clambered up the stack. With the final line of crates, he had to prepare for the leap from one side of the alley to his fire escape access. It would involve him digging in deep on the last, longest and tallest crate in the batch. The pivotal moment came when he performed a three-step jog into a half-turn, squatting leap. His forward motion, coupled with his light frame and decent acrobatics skills launched him through the air across the alley. He easily made the second story of the fire escape.*
*Ascending the stairwell, he grabbed his pack. Walking up to the transparisteel window that he uses to access his safehouse, he takes one last moment to check and see that he hasn't been followed and isn't being observed. He even remembers the cardinal rule of counter-surveillance - he looks up. Too many people forget to check above them, thinking themselves safe. Aedon couldn't afford to be that stupid. Once he was sure that the angles were clear, he depressed the sequence of switches to deactivate his internal security systems. Once that was done, he raised the window, climbing into the safehouse and immediately placing his right hand over the scanner on the inside wall. Once the verification was complete, he placed his right foot down on the floor where another rubber pressurized mat resided, and input his tap-foot code to deactivate the internal alarm sensors.*
*All of these measures may or may not have been necessary. Aedon knew that. But he was hinging his future on what rested in these rooms, and that was enough for him to be as cautious as possible when dealing with the security of the place. As he continued inside the apartment, he turned, shutting the window and reactivating the system. He also went ahead and pulled down the metallic shutters that he had installed on all of the other windows, including this one. They were made of grade 3 durasteel - pretty much the best one could get on the consumer market. As he did, the room went dark with the exception of the ambient lighting, which seemed to take this cue and brought the rest of the room up to an acceptable low-lighting feature. Aedon had taken his time in making this place livable, but he'd also done his part to make sure it was as much a fortress as it was a respite.*
*He set his backpack over on one of the form-couches. It nestled into the cushion as if it had always been there. Sitting down beside it, he grabbed a datapad and began sifting through different files and checklists he had, checking certain items off as he went. He shouldered his way out of his bantha-hide jacket, setting it off to the side as it revealed his shoulder holster and the blaster that settled inside of it. He rolled his shoulders as he turned his right leg a bit, grabbing the handheld slugthrower and taking a moment to eject the ammo cylinder long enough to pull the two fired shells from its backside and replacing them with fresh, unspent ammunition. As he continued to maintain his weapon, he was mulling through the plan he had to "negotiate" with Gorvun. It would be a simple enough process: contact one of his cronies, set up a conference call, time and place for the meet, and then the hand-off for the location. Aedon knew that once it was all said and done, he wouldn't be coming back to this spot. Whatever hopes he had for leaving this planet, they were all up above. And he wasn't even sure he would be able to find what he was looking for there, either. But it HAD to be better than here.*
*It just had to be.*
*As soon as he finished cleaning his weapon, Aedon went into the master bedroom of the apartment he had "appropriated". The whole place wasn't half bad. It would have belonged to a middle-class mogul or some such, more than likely. Decent floor space, nice amenities, and - most-importantly during this catastrophe - a backup generator system tied directly into the reserve power grid. The Zeltron wasn't sure how long it would remain active, but, if it worked for now, that would be enough. Aedon was particularly-fond of the sonic shower in the unit. For it being in the Amethyst District, even this outdated unit was klicks ahead of what he had in the lower end of the slums. Which, was to say, what his neighborhood had determined was a "communal" shower house that almost always had some new gang of street thugs shaking it down every week for "access to the privilege". Aedon kriffing hated the status quo that this place always seemed to have. If this whole cataclysm hadn't come along to turn everything upside down, Aedon thought he would have liked to eventually be a force of change around here.*
*And yet, even in the aftermath, there were still tools like Gorvun Knae around to frack it all up.*
*It wouldn't serve Aedon to be twisted up by his emotions, though. Knae still had the upper hand here, regardless of how Aedon felt. Instead, he would choose to take this time to rest and prepare. The idea of a shower sounded amazing, so that was first on his list. He made sure not to use the sonic shower's ancillary features - the scented sprays and skin conditioners were sure to be a poor choice, given the current situation. Still, to knock off the dust and grime he had accumulated over the last three weeks of him being on the run? That was the best feeling he could have asked for.*
*After his shower, he did one last check for every access point in the apartment, confirming the locks and security measures were still in place. Then, in a most-exhausted fashion, he fell into his bed, holdout blaster tucked neatly beneath the pillow with him. Soon enough, what passed for "morning" around this place would come, and he would need to be rested and ready for what was going to happen...*
ABOUT Aedon Gavin Montrose
Alias
"Gav" to his closest friends
Age
17
Pronouns
Male-inclusive is fine (he, him, his, etc.)
*Coruscant had become little more than a mass graveyard. A ruined mausoleum filled with the decaying dead, and those who were well on their way. Even worse, the handful of survivors were busy holding onto some fleeting sense of hope that they might outlast "The Red". Word was coming round that the plague was burning itself out, survivors reporting seeing ferals drop dead for no apparent reason. When they drew closer, they noticed some severe hemorrhaging from most every orifice, signs of the plague's finality in its victims. After five horrible months, the period of time known as "The Wailing Night" was falling to a silent close. It was enough to drive hundreds of poor souls insane, having to listen to the rage-filled feral cry of the infected all throughout the night as it echoed through the District. But if all you heard was the echo, you at least knew you were safe. It usually meant some other poor soul's demise, or that the ferals themselves were displeased with some particular thing or another, but it was usually a situation of "better them than me."*
*But now, the world was beginning to quieten. The silent streets an indication of everything that the survivors had come to fear - Coruscant was dead. Or, at the very least, well on its way and dying. There wasn't enough authoritarian force from any governmental organization to try and navigate the entire city planet and attempt to rebuild. No one had even heard from any member of the Coruscant Defense Force or the Republic for quite some time now. It was doubtful that the seat of galactic government even existed anymore. Which led to the current predicament that the planet found itself in.*
*Sad little kings on their sad little hills.*
*The remaining survivors here in the Amethyst District had one thing in common - they were all made of sterner stuff than most. A lot of them were non-humanoid, although there were some who were. Quite a few of the ones who survived were the seedier element, those who had done practically anything to survive, and weren't ashamed to say it. A few of them had grouped together, as sentients tend to do, and developed a hierarchy, also as they tend to do. They answered to one individual in particular, a Houk by the name of Gorvun Knae. The whole lot of them had set up shop in the one area of town that still had accessible, working turbolifts to the city above. Gorvun also had people guarding what remained of the speeder rental motorcades. They were acting as toll-keepers, locking down local transit and limiting people's ability to go to and from the District itself. If you had enough of a "tribute" - which usually came in the form of food, supplies, or weapons - you were allowed to come and go. Most people just went.*
*That was Aedon's plan, too.*
*He had almost gotten enough of a tribute together. A collection of food and supplies, ammo stores, and even a few canisters of Tibanna gas. He had even managed to get ahold of quite a few datapads that had access to the Holonet - which was something that was a true rarity. Connection with the rest of the galaxy. It was difficult enough being stranded on the planet with little to no hope of ever escaping, but to have no means of figuring out if you were the only ones left out there? That was the often the last straw that broke the Bantha's back around here.*
*The violet-haired Zeltron had come away from his most-recent outing with all that would remain of his attempt to entice Gorvun and his group: a collection of decent code cylinders and slicer tools. In the proper hands, it could mean access to armories, or banks, even. And Aedon knew that. He'd had to break into more than a few electronics stores to get them, dodging more than a few ferals in the process; but, he knew that it would be enough to tip the scales. So it was worth it.**And there he was, breaking off in a dead sprint down the street now, having just gotten away from a pack of the ferals a few minutes ago. He strode rapidly down the sidewalk with his backpack slung over one shoulder, clearing a fallen column that lay across the street, and shot across the open square there toward the area that he had taken care to secure as his own personal safe zone. He was still about a half block away when he slid to a stop on the other side of the square, taking cover behind a wrecked speeder in order to assess his situation. He placed the pack down, opening it to check and make sure the contents were still intact. Everything still seemed as though it was, so he closed it back up, and waited there in the silence.*
*He caught his breath there for what seemed like an hour. In reality, he'd only been there a few minutes. And that was when he heard it...*
*...The shuffle step and raspy breath, followed by the tell-tale grunting noises. And what was worse, Aedon felt it. Due to his empathic abilities from being a Zeltron, Aedon sensed the emotional state of whoever was around him. The closer the species was to being humanoid, the easier it was for him to tell. And since the ferals infected with the Red-Eyed Death were all humanoid in some fashion or another, the pheromones given off by their rage were like a beacon to Aedon; causing his hairs along the nape of his neck to bristle as a physical response.*
*Aedon drew his slugthrower from his holster. He seemed to know exactly where to aim, and when, as the shambling form of the feral humanoid crept into the open square. Aedon immediately recognized the race - Twi'lek, male, likely in his mid-thirties. It was missing a chunk of its left lekku, the little head-tails that all Twi'leks tended to possess. The right one was dangling, seemingly-seizing as it shook violently. The Twi'lek snarled through broken teeth as he peered around, trying to find something to hurt, someone to kill. Aedon wasn't one to oblige him.*
*Taking aim from behind the cover of the speeder, he popped off two rounds bound for the Twi'lek's head. The first caught him just above the right eye, sending his head reeling back. The second entered the feral's neck just below his chin, exiting the back of the skull in a semi-fluid motion. It fell, now laying in a heap there in the middle of the square. Aedon waited to see if the sensation of rage subsided, his weapon still aimed in the direction that the shambler came in from. After a few moments, the feeling began to back off, the pheromones now freshly-spent and with no new ones incoming. Aedon took a few deep breaths, calming himself down in an effort to bring himself back to the reality of the present.*
ABOUT Aedon Gavin Montrose
Alias
"Gav" to his closest friends
Age
17
Pronouns
Male-inclusive is fine (he, him, his, etc.)
Force-sensitive?: Kriff Force-jockeys. I don't need that stuff.
Languages: Basic, Zeltrosian, Huttese, a little Mando'a, and swear words in just about every language.
Appearance/Attire: I'm usually sporting a black bantha-hide jacket over a t-shirt, some cargo pants and my boots. I've got this nifty hidden compartment on the back of my belt that I hold a vibroknife in, and a wrist-bound portable "apothecary" that holds some useful poisons and serums in small vials. I'm also sporting a thigh holster for my slug-thrower, and a shoulder holster for my hold-out pistol. I also have another sword, but, it's not practical for me to use right now; so, it's in a safe place til I need it later.
Background
I won't sit here and spin you the usual "tale of woe" that you'd usually hear from the usual Slummers. People have it rough just about anywhere in the galaxy, don't they? I'll say this, though - living there? It got me ready. Ready for whatever life had to toss at me.
Or so I'd thought.
It's funny...just when you're pretty sure you're getting a grip on things, someone yanks the floor out from under ya and takes all the handholds away from that point up. Then, you're just left hanging.
That's what it felt like to take on "The Red"...
Of course you'd hit the most densely-populated planet with a bio-weaponized, life-ending virus. Of course you'd do so, fully expecting to have an outrageous body count and a ninety-five percent mortality rate. When it started taking down only humanoids, causing them to go feral and wreck everything, a lot of fingers began to point at a lot of different races. The Hutts didn't last long. All their creds couldn't save them as they were hunted down, interrogated, and killed without mercy. Some of them were just left to The Red, and the ferals tore them apart. Quite a few of us watched that, gleefully. I couldn't stomach it. I had enough to worry about, trying to keep my friends safe. Trying to keep my caretaker, Lekki, alive. He was Verpine, see...they were immune to the Red-Eye. So a lot of folks came knocking, and he sent me and Eiylah running. I still haven't found him yet.
I...wasn't expecting what happened next.
Eiylah...she was...she kept me centered. Even when "The Red" hit, she did her best to keep a smile on her face. Up until then, I didn't know that she had been fighting another battle altogether. She had a rare blood disease, one that didn't allow her to store oxygen as well as other humans. I always knew she had trouble catching her breath, but, I didn't realize it was that bad. And when she finally succumbed to the Red-Eye, it was the final straw.
She didn't suffer like the other ones who went feral...the onset of her disease had already weakened her to the point that she couldn't fight both off at the same time. At least, that's how the kriffing Jedi said it...
They told me they couldn't save her. They didn't even try!
The karking Force-jockeys had set up a clinic during the initial phases of the Red-Eye springing up everywhere. Most of them were races other than human - apparently they'd figured out that the virus hit humanoids the hardest. And I'm still not sure that was truly the end of it, either. Regardless, they were trying - seemingly in vain - to combat the spread of the sickness and offer shelter to those who needed to be kept safe from the ferals. They didn't have room for non-humanoids, though. And seeing as how Lekki was who he was, Eiylah wouldn't leave his side. I wasn't too keen on trusting a bunch of robed space-monks, anyway, so that made my choice just as simple.
Maybe if I had convinced her to stay, she wouldn't have gotten sick. I wouldn't have had to carry her back there. They wouldn't have to lie to me, telling me they couldn't do anything for her as they were packing up their stuff and running-the-hell-away...
She died. Eiylah died, and there was nothing I could do to save her.
I had to bury her - my childhood friend, the one person I cared about more than anybody else in the world. She's six feet under in one of the dingiest, most pestilent-ridden sectors of a dead world; laid to rest in a poorly-marked grave.
Should've been me. Now, instead, I've got to be the one to make it out. For the both of us. If I can survive just a little longer, maybe find my way up top to the spaceports...maybe I can finally get off this rock.
Weapons/Equipment
Wicked's Rest Capacity: 8 rounds Caliber: .45mm Range: 50m Ammo Type: Hollow point, AP (Reserve) Location: Thigh holster, right leg
Wicked's Shade Capacity: 9 rounds Weapon Type: Lethal/Stun Range: 5m Ammo Type: Plasma bolt Location: Shoulder holster, beneath right arm
Wicked's Hate Weapon Type: Vibroknife Range: Melee Location: Hidden belt compartment, small of back
Wicked's Grace Weapon Type: Duelist Vibrorapier Construction material: Quadranium blade, Cortosis fiberweave Range: Melee Location: Currently unequipped, stored
ABOUT Aedon Gavin Montrose
Alias
"Gav" to his closest friends
Age
17
Pronouns
Male-inclusive is fine (he, him, his, etc.)
*In the prime of its development, the Amethyst District was considered to be the pinnacle of modern living. Moderately-sized, affordable housing units with plenty of amenities strewn throughout the area. Then, as the years climbed onward, the city grew upward. The Amethyst District was quickly overshadowed by glittering spires and shining lights. Decades, even centuries went by, and still the city-planet grew. Before long, the entire district began to be swallowed up by "The Slums" as they would come to be referred to. While the citizenry above were all of the upper class, the political and societal elite, the Amethyst District - along with most every other area on this level of the planet - would be known to house the poor and the destitute; the forgotten and the forsaken.*
*In present times, the District is little more than a silent graveyard. The Red-Eyed Death - or "The Red" for short - has turned Coruscant into a murderous wasteland filled with death and decay. The Slums were hit just as hard, with some sections suffering catastrophic damage due to the city above, as it came crashing down atop them. Part of Amethyst District had suffered such damage, and in the aftermath of the plague burning its way through, the whole of the area is now like some scene out of a horror vid. Buildings have been barricaded, refuse piling up in the streets alongside the bodies; many places have been marked with red paint, large, red "X" marks and painted eyes stating that it held some of the feral beings known to be contaminated with The Red. Power is sporadic in the area, with a few places undergoing repairs from what remains of the droid workforce. The area is still now, with the plague being more or less burnt out. What little remains of the living is now in a fight for its very survival, and the Amethyst District may be the grounds upon which that battle is fought.*