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Min'Unaetti - The Red Panther

Irzulie's picture

The search for a master started like any other hunt "We have done all we can for you Red Panther. You have reached your age of maturity and our agreement with your mother is at an end. We have raised you as best we could, but as you can see, you are a special child born of special parents. You must have known that you do not belong here in Swale Bolivar. Yes, we have raised you as one of our own: A Fosterling, but your destiny lies somewhere in the stars."

The skinny halfbred Sith nodded, an angular crimson face alone amongst leather tan round faces, "Thank you Elder for your hospitality and protection. I have learned much with my Cousins here."

"Yes my child, you may not have been born Bolivar, but you listen to the land like one. You have felt famine and flood, you know the wrath of nature and the gnawing of hunger in your belly. You can fend of beast and brigand with nothing more than a stout staff. You can hammer and forge sickle and blade. But unlike us, you can make nature heed your beck and call, you can control the winds and call lightning. The earth trembles when you rage and the forest hides your passage. Yet, you are Bolivar in your heart regardless of your blood. You do not abuse your power, but use it sparingly. Now, someone must teach you to use it wisely."

The barely a woman looked into the elder's age wrinkeld face "Why will my mother not come for me now?" Her face furrowed into a sorrowful look.

The old man pats the girl on the knee "Because she would not have you pampered and preened. You are of the land not of any House. You shall come into your own of your own choosing. But you shall never be alone in the stars, your mother shall see to that. She may not be visible in your sight but you are never out of her thoughts. Her spies and agents tell her of your growth and she approves, for if she did not, the Swale would be ash and dust. Seek you a master among those magicians in the stars ... Jedi like the Warden's father or Sith like yours."

Min knew little of her father save that of story and legend "You know I will be Sith like my mother and father"

The elder handed the girl a battered datapad "This was your mother's when she left Home for the Empire, now it is yours. Seek out Darth Belatrix of Project Invicta or Darth Rhaegar of the Wrath of the Empire, the 28th Regiment. The rest that you need is in here, along with this Ascendancy travel permit. The blue skinned Chiss are neutral, but they are not enemies of your mother."

"Elder? What if I choose to stay here? Live here in the fields and till the soil? Hunt and fish and grow up among the Bolivar?"

The old man breathes a shuddering morose sigh, "Then you will have dissapointed your mother to no end and all she has suffered and sacrificed will be for naught."

The skinny girl stands, datapad and pass in hand "Then I shall leave now, Elder. No need for goodbyes."

The wizened man smiles "Never goodbye, only until we meet again, for indeed, one day we shall, in this world ... or the next.

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Irzulie's picture

The lean limbed sith halfbreed descended from the gangplank to pass through Imperial Customs, gawking at the mighty spaceport like the foreigner she is. Tall monolithic buildings of crimson and obsidian, reaching to the skies surrounded by thick jungles and lush greens. Even in the nigh eternal rain, there was a patina of neglect and fatigue on the buildings, as if the planet is starting to show the signs of age and decrepitude. Her Chiss Ascendancy travel papers only causing the briefest of glances. Her meagre belongings were subject to thorough scrutiny and examination: no contraband or weapons were found save the dual saber on her hip and the long double bladed polestaff across her back. The male twi'lek agent, a minor functionary, looked at her papers and asked some basic questiosn to confirm she was in fact the person holding the document, "Swale Bolivar. This is not a planet on our regsitry."

A miniscule dip of the head in respect, "Apologies officer, it is the county I was born in. Do you need my planet's name?"

The replies in the bored monotone of beurocratic effeciciency "Yes" to which she simply replies, "Stolaria"

The agent makes a note in the database "Is the purpose of your stay business or pleasure?"

Min pauses in thought, "I actually do not know. I hope my business dealings will be pleasurable and any recreating I do lead to business. Does this make sense?"

The blue officer looks her up and down, thin emaciated frame, narrow hips, angular face, bone ridges and crests "Business. Welcome to Dromuund Kaas."

The agent watches her pass through the gates into the city proper and sends a message from his datapad to a Comm address of random numbers "Alpha arrived DK" and then he returns to his mundane duties.



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