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In Character

Zane Richards's picture

What a Man Can Do

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"Goddess be dam'd Car stop!" The small green twi'lek woman covered in grease chased after much larger lethan, having to practically run to keep up with the 7 foot tall male's stride. She then promptly slammed into him as the blasphemous phrase had him spin back toward her.

"What?" Cartulak was an imposing firm when he was in a pleasant mood. The scowl on the pirate's face now would make durasteel wilt.

Not all hatters are mad. Some are downright insane.

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Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years..
They were all irrelevant, they were all just a simple passage of the concept known as time. Tucked away in the mountains of Alderaan, the man known as the "Mad Hermit" toiled and labored..

Zane Richards's picture

Grand Theft Sith

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“Why are we doing this?” Essan wined, “you don’t owe her anything. Stars Car its not like she’d do it for you.” The rest of the crew nodded and looked to Car.

Starch's picture

Summary of the Raitia view of battle on ISS Invicta where Belatrix was defeated.

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Raitia was writing reports, inside the ISS Invicta, at her desk at the medical bay when a great shake and alarm blaring. She order the staff to stockpile medical items and organizes teams to prepare for incoming wounded. After another shake, the walking wounded and stechers came in. She order some teams of medical personnel to damage areas and set up temp medical areas. Then she triage the wounded, those that can be saved are admitted, those that can not are sent to the morgue.

Enaeru's picture

A Light in the Shadows

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Despite the thing taking up the majority of the open space in the main common area of the station, Chveya never felt that the great Banyari tree - or the grass beneath it - was the center of attention, never bustling or crowded. Indeed it was often hard to believe the number of people hurrying by it at all hours; she felt as comfortable there as if she were in her own bed. Perhaps it was simply that nobody interrupted her there. It was a well-known fact among her peers that, unless pressed by a more urgent task, the young miraluka would drop nearly anything if a favor were asked of her.

Rahm Orade's picture

Delusion's Wrath

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Not even a day and a half after the council meeting and the discussion with Darth Atrinark, Rahm and Drikkah are home in Vhetin. The midday warmth of the Mandalorian sun streams through every window that permits it, and a light lunch is on the table as Nena plays on the floor.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Rahm is surrounded by datapads, with reports coming in from every company of each battalion. His battalion, the first, has everyone accounted for, and the others continue to report their location as the hours go by.

“We’ve got almost everyone,” he says out loud, hopefully loud enough for Drikkah to hear. “Only a few hundred still not reporting.”

“That is no small sum of people,” Drikkah calls back, followed by the sound of shuffling papers, a drawer smoothly sliding out then back, and a lock turning. She emerges from her study and pulls out a chair at the table.

Zane Richards's picture


Submission Type:

"I don't know Hool that's an Imperial destroyer," the younger Rodian was understandably nervous. The Empire did not look kindly on 'unauthorized' salvage.

"You worry too much Paloo, it's a derelict she's been out here for months. No one cares about this wreck.

Poison's picture

Two and a half years in the life of a Solo Mercenary

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The casino as usual is loud and crowded. With the sligthtly-better-than-average odds of winning and the complete lack of Hutt involvement the establishment had a steady stream of customers most nights. Usually even more so when the proprieter herself was in attendance. A night like tonight. The raven haired woman watches the crowd as she leans against the wall pretending to be paying attention to the dancers. Annabelle pushes off of the wall with a foot and makes her way across the main floor to a small group gathered at one of the gambling tables. The sway of her leather-clad hips exagerated just enough to make sure her path across the floor is noticed. She takes a sip from her glass of Whyren's before setting it on the edge of the table as she leans forward, placing a hand on the man's shoulder as she leans in.

Zane Richards's picture


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Zane Richards's picture

Shades of Faith

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He stood in the echo of her departure for several long moments, savoring the pounding race of his pulse. Perhaps it was the two days in a kolto tank with nothing but his thoughts. Perhaps the rising tide of the current crisis, either way the truth had been spoken aloud.

Zane Richards's picture

Belief and Purpose

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The hunt done, the meal finished, the Masassi returned to their posts. Laveaus had been trying to participating as much as possible in their daily activities. There was nobility in what many called savagery. She didn't want them to listen just because the Mistress told them to, she wanted their respect as well. It was a different way of thinking to what she was used to, and as the lethan woman gazed out over the green canopy below her mind replayed the events that had brought her here.

Vor'sha Quarters, (Nar Shadda)

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Telessa steps clipped echoing in the safe house. As she came down the stair she heard Khorde running to catch up. Her head half turned to see the young man get even with her. “You did well Khorde, thank you for picking me up.” She responded her voice still tense with her annoyance.

Khorde took off his helmet and looked over, his lips quirked up and he shrugged. “No problem Tele. It let me fly a little.” He rolled the helmet in his hand and chuckled. “Quite a run.. Your friends shoot each other often?” he looked over the blue eyes sparkling.

Henerkin's picture


Submission Type:

((Written and RPed by Mel trix and me.))

A speeder lands on the platform. A good looking redhead with two blasters hanging on her belt disembarks and proceeds towards the Rattataki.

- Melkaio : Welcome to The Treasure island Casino Lady Trixie! Our hideout on Nar Shaddaa!

-Trixie : I’ve been called many things but Lady surely ain’t one of em’! Glad to see ya again Mel!

-Melkaio : A shared pleasure Trixie! Last time we met was at your party on Tatooine. The one where the Captain drunk himself under the table… well one of them.

At The same moment, a small droid scans the young lady and points two rotating automatic blasters at her.He is followed closely by a Jawa with an electro-baton.

- Technok : Scanning for targets, Ready for deletion…

Rusty, the Jawa, hits the droid with discharge from the electro-baton before it finishes it’s sentence.

- Rusty : Ukanbi uni Technok akata! (Quiet Technok!)

Henerkin's picture


Submission Type:

((Written by Melkaio and Henerkin))

Click Image To Enlarge

Melkaio enters the med bay of his casino, the Tresure Island on Nar Shaddaa, to meety with the Captain of The Skull. He was in a rather bad shape after the latest mission onm Taris. The Rattataki pours himself a glass of whiskey.

- Meklaio : Shall I serve you one Henerkin?

- Henerkin : Dammit! I’d love to but the doc ain’t allwin’ me anything but kolto!

Sitting on the bed, freshly out of the med tank for the meeting, the kolto still drying on his old pirate tattoos, he looks left and right… No doc.

- Henerkin : Kriff it!

Enaeru's picture


Submission Type:

Water showers over her head, streaming along the network of scars scrawled across her cheekbones, brows, and nose. Ill-healed and twisted lids collect twin pools as her face cranes toward the ceiling, shivering and shrinking in upon herself, and she is

raising her arms to the storm, unceasing and unrelenting, lightning streaking through the Kaas sky. Storm-colored eyes, ringed with scarlet, cry out a challenge to the chaos, and there is

green for miles, gardens growing and fields blooming, and everywhere, everywhere, they are silent, still, and they stare. There are accusations in their eyes, suspicion and sorrow and sadness, thousands upon thousands, and then there is nothing. A chorus of voiceless laments, their faces flaking into ash and still they surround her until

Enaeru's picture


Submission Type:

In the servants quarters of Belatrix's Kaas apartments, the cook spends an hour searching for her favorite boots. She finds them, later, stowed sensibly away in her footlocker. With the hairbrush she lost last week.
Decorations artfully placed on side tables turn up in storage closets.
One of Belatrix's favorite flowering plants acquires a self-watering gadget, of the sort used by people who don't trust their neighbors to look after their homes while on vacation.

On the ISS Invicta, soldiers find spare MREs stashed in their lockers.

The Invicta Headquarters seems plagued by the same trickster; a coat here, a utility belt there, all discovered later neatly tucked into lockers, travelling cases, bags. Nothing is missing, simply... stowed.

Zane Richards's picture

On the Edge of Existence

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Jaakra held tight to the holdout blaster The White Lady ensured she left with. None of the Chiss here had tried to take it from her. They had pulled her out of kolto stasis for another battery of tests. She was starting to feel like a pincushion, she was still sick as hell. Fever burned her brain making more than basic interaction a chore, and her skin felt like it was trying to crawl away on its own.

Zane Richards's picture


Submission Type:

Argus kept glancing back over his shoulder at the prisoner. Finally the Sgt had enough.

"Private the guy isn't going anywhere, he's got enough tranquil in him to put a rancor out for a week."

"If-if you say so Sarge"

Henerkin's picture

To Taris!

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- Henerkin : Y’all locate me the ISS Invicta, It’s been awhile since the last mission left, let’s go see whats up.

Mogy on the holo processes the tracking from The Crossbonses since The Skull is yet again in repairs on Tatooine.

- Mogy : Yo! Hen! They’re still docked on the Taris space station. We should go take a look.

Henerkin sips his corellian whiskey and nods

- Henerkin : Yep my thought exactly, can’t afford to lose that income just yet. Besides I might have folks I actually care about on that mission, who knows?

Mogy chuckle and crosses his arms.

- Mogy : You mean to tell me you actually have a heart under that rotten shell of yours and actually care about people?

- Henerkin : Hey! I resent that, that’s just plain kriffing mean, how piratey of you brother!

Moe shakes his head and adds jokingly:

Moving forward

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She watched as each armor piece was wrapped in hazmat bag, her face held taunt. As the imperial researcher went to grab the helmet she put her hand out, "No.." she said to still the woman movement, who looked up at her through the hazmat goggles.

Henerkin's picture

Picking up some heat

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Shorthly after the events on Ziost, The Crossbones, The Mynock, and The Fuzzball docked inside The Skull.

- Henerkin : « Folks, this venture is no longer profitable. Let’s haul jets to the Outer Rim »

- Rusty (in Jawaese): «Prepare to Jump in Hyperspace! All Engines Forward! We’re Going Home!»

They jumped without any problems, that was at the arrival the things started to get worst.

The First Mate informed the Captain that a squadron of Republic stealth fighters picked up their trail, they just went out of cloaking and commenced the attack on The Skull. At the same moment, There was an Incoming transmission.

Trixie's picture

Invasion: Taris

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Wichita's picture

Case number: 27136668M, Maria Townsend

Submission Type:

Central Intelligence Agency
In conjunction with:
The National Counterterrorism Center

Case number: 27136668M, Maria Townsend

To whom it may concern:

Per our arrangement with you on the handling of suspect, Maria J. Townsend, we have been monitoring her lately through closed circuit TV and field agents when needed. Our current observations are:

-We have noticed a physical change with Ms. Townsend. This might just be inconsistent to anything, but our records on her appearance have been update. Criminals usually try to alter their looks once released back into society.

-While conducting interviews with her professors at the university, they have told us that Maria’s capacity to absorb knowledge has grown tenfold. She is now at or near the capabilities of honor students in the Master’s programs there. Yet, Ms. Townsend still chooses to hide under the façade of this young teen. Why she does this astounds even her instructors.

[RP] PRESS RELEASE: Sammoj Kresh Hosts Charity Gala for the Orphans of Y’toub System

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[= medium][copied over from the ebon hawk server forums][/]
[= medium]
[= medium]PRESS RELEASE: Sammoj Kresh Hosts Charity Gala for the Orphans of Y’toub System[/]
The Lord Baron Sammoj Kresh of Sious IV announces a charity gala and ball dedicated to the elimination of poverty and want throughout the Y’toub system. In an effort to raise awareness of the growing problems of displacement, indentured servitude, and rampant narcotics abuse, Lord Kresh has organized a party of the most elite and powerful of Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa. The night promises to be one of the most exciting and indulgent on record. Proceeds from the event will be contributed to The Huttese Fund for Orphans and Unfortunates, LLC, minus expenses.

The Inner Struggle

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In Search Of Hidden Truths

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((Just a taste of Gordafrid's life. Enjoy!))

Gordafarid took in the scents of the air as she allowed her guide to lead her through the Hall, her senses straining to map her surroundings as best she could. Old wood, dried flowers, the scent of dust and cleaning supplies, polished stone. Scents were as much a landmark for her as sound and touch were. Granted, most times she didn’t really miss sight – it was difficult to miss something one never knew – but it was times like this that being able to see new obstacles in her path would be rather useful. “There are steps here, Miss Gazhdaham,” the light baritone at her side murmured, only stumbling slightly over her name. She suppressed a twinge of guilt that she was unchaperoned with a man not of her family, but she reminded herself firmly for the seventh time that day that this was England, and not her home.

Finnvarrah's picture

A Med Bay Haunting

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Illuminati Non-Mandatory Social

Submission Type:

Illuminati Non-Mandatory Social

Illuminati characters may find a new passport in their belongings. Or maybe they get it as an attachment to an email full of disturbing-yet-funny cat pictures from the Pyramidon. Maybe Kristin Geary just hands it to you and says "Fun fact - this just happened."

You are required to attend a non-mandatory social gathering.

The Labyrinth.
31-January, 4 P.M. Brooklyn time (US EST)

Consider this a continuation of your official interview.

Skillsets and Talents

Submission Type:

Ms. Trent is putting together work teams in order to have them in place to quickly fill contracts as we acquire them. Please tell us your talents and skillsets, in order of achiements, highest to lowest. We also want to know your preference of workforce tasks. While we cannot guarantee you will get the jobs you desire, we will do our best. Our clients come first and we will give them the best of the best for each contract. If you wish your talents and such to be confidential, please send myself a secure email. (shoot me an IM here).
This information will be moved to secure personnel files as received.
Have a good day and stay safe.

Anjalina Rosenthall
Public Relations Director
Human Resources


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by Dr. Radut