(( Trouble is, people usually get pretty nervous about joining a thread seven pages long because of all the stuff they've missed. I haven't seen the Game Master in a while, I wonder what his opinion is on using more than one character? Fight scenes are easier to coordinate and more fun when you have more control over both sides. ))
Fenn lowered his gun and went silent, listening to the humanoid's pained cries. An empty wind blew through the street, carrying the sounds of distant blaster fire and speeding engines from somewhere else in Mos Eisley.
The black-clad figure let a sigh up to the sky, and looked back down at the Vigo a final time with a heartless smile as he stuck his blaster in the holster at his side, "Until next time, Vigo Telk."
As Fenn began to turn away, the frustrated human on the ground struggled to turn and look at his torturer, "You can't just finish it now, you sick freak?!"
"Until next time, Vigo Telk." Fenn reiterated coldly without turning to look.
The Vigo forced out a pained laugh, still paralyzed by fear. "I at...at least I had the heart to kill your mother almost instantly."
The Vigo truly couldn’t remember who this stranger was, what he had done exactly to the boy’s family, and he really didn’t care. He only knew that he would kill himself before letting this Sithspawn find him later, and put him through this unbearable torture, all over again. The Vigo wanted to cause as much hurt as he could before death finally took him.
Whatever the Vigo Telk’s torture-induced logic was, the aged human quickly forgot it.
The cloaked force-sensitive was shaking, his yellow eyes glowing violently, and dark sparks of living, blood-red light moved like radiating electricity over Fenn’s body.
One of his lenses cracked.
The Sith turned in a hurricane of overflowing dark side power and fire-hot fury that flowed through him like a hoard of poisonous snakes. All he did was look at the bleeding and injured Vigo, and the human was ripped above the ground and for the half second he was suspended in the air a sickening CRACK splintered through the air as every organ and bone of the hopeless being exploded all at once in his insides.
The demolished corpse fell to the ground in a limp heap, and a steadily growing puddle of blood mixed with the hot sand.
Slowly, the malevolent glow around Fenn slowly faded, and then he staggered dizzily from the fiery euphoria of adrenaline running through his veins. He grabbed a hold of Veera’s armored shoulder for support.
“Oh wow, Lightheaded.” Fenn smiled foolishly, and put a black-gloved hand to the side of his head through his thick black hair, before he fell over entirely.
"Take caution in the Sith you meet, Lady Veera," Fenneth Crow straightened and pushed his lenses into place over his cold yellow eyes with two fingers, "One of the Emperor's servants has gone rogue. He carries a very valuable, very ancient, and extremely lethal Sith artifact."
The Emperor's hand gave an evil grin void of all heart and feeling, "We were lucky this was not the one...Now, if we may, I do believe our friend the Vigo is going to try and make a run for it."
The Vigo of the Black Sun crime syndicate was sprinting down the sandy street, pouring sweat from the planet's torid heat, and from his own uncontrollable fear. Fenn stepped on the chest of a dead Trandoshan in his path and then into the street and turned. He lifted his blaster to almost eye-level and fired a well-placed shot at the Vigo's left knee. The aged humanoid yelled and fell unceremoniously to the sandy floor, grabbing painfully at his leg.
The grey-haired, balding humanoid tried to crawl away, but Fenn stepped on the edge of the Vigo's long, expensive blue robes.
"Leaving already?" The Emperor's Hand lifted his blaster and fired at the humanoid's other knee. The street echoed with the excruciating cry, and the Vigo collapsed on the ground in a screaming, crippled mess.
"What do you want with me?!" The Vigo shouted angrily and stumbled on his words, but forced them out through clenched teeth, "You k-killed all my men, t-took my house, and killed my FAMILY! What's wrong with you?!"
"Not having fun anymore, Vigo Telk?" The Sith spitefully stepped on the human's injured leg, "You had plenty of fun when you did the same thing to me, all those lovely years ago."
"W-What?!" The Vigo struggled to speak through the waves of pain, from where he lay painfully curled up in the street, "I don't know who the hell you are!!"
"That's because I was six-years-old!!!" Fenn shouted with overwhelming fury and fired several times into the Vigo's right arm and leg.
Faux froze in complete shock when she heard the droid's response. What?! How?! When?
The padawan exhaled carefully, recollecting herself and pretended to eat, she spoke casually as though talking in front of her at nothing at all, "So there's some sort of plan then?"
Escape?! Freedom! Away from the world of such confusing greys and back home again to where everything made sense and the enemy was evil and the good were always led by the Jedi. Faux's heart soared with the overwhelming whirlpool of pleasant ideas, while she scratched her nose casually pretending to feel nothing at all.
ya, or deflect them like Vader does to Han's blaster bolt. I never really liked that part though, because it made it look like it was really unnessicary to use your lightsaber as a tool againt blasters.
It says on wikipedia that it was only Vader's specially armored gloves that deflected the blaster bolt, and implies that it's not a force ability. I think that makes more sense, as we never see any other force users doing it. (Except for maybe the Witches of Dathomir in The Courtship of Princess Leia?)
...but ever since I've heard Draco go on about how you can't trust wikipedia...
I think the best firearm to use against a Jedi would be a shotgun. It would have to be one crazy Jedi to be able to deflect something like that, or get close enough to slice it without getting blown away.
"You're a strange droid." Faux remarked to the assassin droid near her as the prisoners were led through the Mandalorian stronghold. The padawan pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, but it only fell into her face again, "Where did you come from?"
The besieging mercenaries never had a chance.
Fenneth Crow fired three quick succesive shots without taking time to aim. Three mercenaries fell to the ground, but the Sith hadn't shot to kill. He had been able to shoot the hired guns in the face and leave them alive. He smiled sadistically as the three creatures on the ground tried to scream in agony through the sputtering blood and burned gore that was their faces.
A huge Trandoshan brought out a heavy repeater and fired up at the Sith from behind cover that protected him from Veera's line of fire. Fenn spun in a flury of black robes, blaster bolts singing the edge of his heavy cloak as he slipped over the narrow roof cat walk and continued firing down below in shots that made a precise surgeon look clumsy. A Twi'lek spun around from the force of a blaster shot to his orange left eye.
"Don't just stand there you fools! Fire! Fire!" The Vigo had hidden behind the speeder he had come in and continued to shout frantic orders at his men as they were hewn down.
A Devaronian and a cyborg-armed human fell from Veera's swift and merciless weapons. Fenn smiled, loving to watch a master artist at work. That was when a stray blaster bolt of a falling corpse tagged the Sith in his left shoulder. He cried more from rage then pain, and fired spitefully at the dead body, watching it writhe limply from the force of the blaster fire.
A mangy looking fur-covered Bothan tossed a grenade up between where Fenn and Alo had taken vantage points. The flashing charge bounced along the rooftop and lodged in a gap between some machinery and the roof wall out of reach where anyone could grab it. The Bothan laughed victoriously and dove for cover behind what was left of the outer wall.
Fenneth's eyes narrowed skeptically, and with a slight hand motion he nudged the charge back down below where it bounced to a stop next to the Bothan who had his hands over his ears. The Bothan's eyes had just enough time to go wide in fear when the charge exploded in a cloud of smoke, blood, sand, and stone debris.
That was when Darth Kun had appeared.
The immense figure in ominous black robes charged into the open warzone of the courtyard. His red dual lightsabers activated with an angry hiss and moved in a lethal blur as they deflected a sudden barrage of blaster fire back at the scaled Barabel who had dared take his chance against a Sith.
"Hello." The Wookie-Sith barked up at where Fenn and Alo were, with the heat of battle glowing in his eyes and cruel face. He deflected another shot and charged at the remaining mercenaries, cutting them down easily as he spun, dodged, and dragged his lightsaber through each creature one by one until he had gutted the last of them.
The demolished courtyard and street went as quiet as the dead that filled them.
Darth Kun deactivated his sabers and turned again toward the Sith and the armored female. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off--permenantly.
Blaster fire sounded violently shredded through the fragile silence.
Alo Veera watched in shock as the the newly arrived Sith stumbled back a step, and looked down in utter surprize at his bleeding torso.
Fenneth Crow stood erect, his blaster still in position from where he had fired on the other dark side warrior. Smoke pouring from the end of the hand gun. The look in the yellow-eyed humanoid's eyes was easy to recognize. Fear. Cold, pure, anamalistic, frightened terror only just edged with same animal will of survival.
Darth Kun activated his lightsabers once more with a roar of rage, marred with coughed up blood, and made one final attempt at attack. The robed wookie made it two steps before he fell limp to the ground, and his lightsabers deactivated and clattered to the sand.
Fenn exhaled slowly, and lowered his weapon only slightly, trying to get a better view to see if Darth Kun was actually dead.
Well, because of the scene where Qui-gon cuts through the blast door with a lightsaber, I surmize that the bullets would simply disintegrate (or whatever the technical term is) completely on contact. Not much of a contest there really, but the lightsaber couldn't deflect the shots back at anyone so...
(( Hahhah! Awesome Post V! I thought I had you guys for sure! ))
Faux tumbled and nearly fell off with complete shock, she frantically tried to grab a hold and then the tank straightened.
Faux looked around at the Mandalorians closely...for some reason she couldn't quite remember the Jedi lecture on that topic. She'd have to find some way to cleverly get more information on the subject without the Mandalorians knowing she was at all interested. She sat straight again and eyed where the tank driver was to make sure he wasn't about to try anymore sudden moves...but all in all, riding on top of the huge, vibrating, powerful tank of armored weaponry was...fun.
They certaintly didn't let you do that back at the academy. Faux hid her slight smile, and wondered where she had gone wrong in her training. Perhaps in the end, all the whispers she had heard all her life were correct after all...
The yellow-eyed Sith peered at Alo Veera from behind his clear lenses, with the slightest trace of a grin in the corner of his mouth, "Frightened already?"
He stretched out his gloved hand toward the window without turning to look, and the durasteel, slatted frame flew violently out of the wall and crashed downward into the shocked mercenaries down below, and sent them sprawling in a mess of sand, and dropped weapons. Fenneth Crow lighted ontop the roof outcropping and straightened like a dark bird of prey taking it's perch and eyeing its prey far below. He called out to the Vigo and his men, "I was unaware knocking had gone out of style."
The humanoid Vigo with grey hair and wealthy dark blue robes and gold chains sputtered like the coward he was, and shouted at his men, "Get him!"
The strange Sith turned toward Alo Veera, flicked the 2,000 credit chit he owed her, and she caught it in a quick hand. His eyes narrowed and he ordered casually, "Leave the Vigo alive...for now."
Heavy repeater fire sounded across the roof, sending flakes of stone and sand flying everywhere, and the Sith jumped seemlessy out of the way, stumbling only slightly and imperceptibly on crumbling stone, he whirled around, dodging more erratic fire, and turned to draw his heavy blaster pistol.
The padwan whirled her head toward the towering Mandalorian, unable to keep the flood of anger inside her in check, "And the Jedi ARE? The Republic soldiers are?! Perhaps the innocent worlds who refuse or are unable to fight back have some horrible plan to destroy all existence?!"
Faux exhaled and turned her head away, her voice still betraying the painful sea of emotions within her, "I have never tried to run away. "
She choked slightly on the words she tried to say, "And that was not my master you killed. That was just another 'Jettise' willing to give his life to try and save a few sentients."
The padawan tilted her head toward the other prisoners, "Just like all of us."
Then the red-head's fiery green eyes looked up at the cold T-shaped visor with lethal intensity, "Why are you fighting?"
Xondra Faux tried to sort out so many confusing questions.
Why do you kill my friends, my family, and then save me?
Xondra Faux slowly put her fingers on the sides of her head and got a faraway look in her eyes.
"Yes. I'm sensing...I'm sensing..." The padawan looked up at the female Mandalorian with a look of irritation, "That you're a complete idiot."
Faux put her hands down at her sides, and explained clearly, "I'm not a Mando, yet, Shion."
The tall padawan turned away, very, very tired from a long confusing day, and sat cross-legged on top of the tank, putting her hands out to try and meditate for a little more strength and peace of mind.
Yurt likes to be drunk, doesn't he.
Well, what isn't hilarious about a drunk Jawa? I still can't stop laughing.
"I'll pay you 2,000 now," Fen adjusted his lenses slightly and leaned back farther in the chair, "And 15,000 more if you live to the end of the week."
The Sith cast her a look with an evil glint in his yellow eyes, and motioned with his blaster slightly, "Things around me tend to get messy."
Suddenly a loud explosion sounded from outside in the sandy street. The Sith stood quickly, looking only slightly irritated, "If you would excuse me."
With a flick of his black-gloved fingers the reinforced durasteel slats over the windows opened, and revealed the front of the complex. A very angry looking Black Sun Vigo watched as several hardened mercenaries pushed over what was left of the shredded wall and moved with their heavy weapons and confidence across the small, open courtyard.
Faux watched the explosions with intense fascination, the ground shaking violently as the mines were set off in a deafening chorus of smoke, fire and spraying dirt. The padawan wondered to herself how hard it would be to set off a mine using the force... A flock of strange bright blue birds soared into the sky with the thick towers of rising smoke as they were disturbed from their perches in the surrounding trees.
"The Republic will see that for miles." Faux told herself quietly, transfixed by the second round of explosions set off by the heavily armored tank. She turned her head slightly toward the Mandalorians next to her with a confused look on her face, "You aren't afraid of them at all, are you?"
Faux looked tried to look over and around the soldiers between her and the mine field. Giving up trying to see that way, she moved over in front of Shion and made eye contact. She pointed firmly as though not asking a question at all, "Can I go watch them?"
Enemies or not, the padawan loved to learn how to do new things, and found the mines and the soldiers disarming the explosives immediately alluring.
IG-88 would have slaughtered HK-47 if technology in Star Wars followed a logical form of progression, but for some strange reason...everything stays the same for centuries and centuries (or close enough anyway.)
As much as I love HK, I lean towards IG-88 in the fight because HK was always following someone else's orders while IG-88 brought about his own self awareness and served no one...ever. But they're both awesome.
((....Oh...Hey...maybe Mandalore threw it at her...))
"Thanks for being there to protect me Shion." The leader of the Mandalorians folded his arms crossly, "I nearly met an undignified end at the hands of this bit of a girl over here."
Order had quickly been regained throughout the soldiers and they continued moving on through the dense jungle.
"Su'cuy." Faux heard someone say behind her, and the young girl turned with a fiery glare, absolutely not in the mood to talk about sushi or whatever the mando had just said, only to see Shion get hit by a rifle.
The padawan burst into uncontainable laughter that sounded clear and loud amidst the thick greenery of leaves and hanging vines.
Faux spun half-around from the force of the hit, and stumbled lightheadedly over the uneven ground. She checked her lip for blood with a filthy sleeve, then yelled spitefully, "Since when does Mandalore hit like a girl?"
The padawan nearly fell over she was so stunned from the blow, but that didn't cause her to lose any of the fire in her eyes. She held out her hand and a fallen blaster rifle was instantly summoned to her firm grip, and leveled at the Mandalorian leader.
The loud noise of a tank turret powered and ready to fire quickly broke her concentration. She froze.
Mandalore held his gauntleted hands out, "Well?"
The look on her face full of overwhelming conflict, every fevered emotion inside her eating at her confused core, but she didn't lower the weapon. She could fire. She could kill Mandalore...maybe. Either way, the tank was going to end her life in a mess of blood, flesh, and splintered bone.
A voice echoed inside her skull. Are you willing to die for the cause? Are you willing to give up your life for others?
Every part of her screamed to pull the trigger, but she couldn't move. Above all, she hated the fearful indecision that held her fast.
"Go ahead and kill me." She threw the blaster down at Mandalore's feet, and stared at him with fevered determination.
Mandalore simply leaned over and picked up the weapon. After a brief examination he started laughing.
"No ammo." He explained.
I've thought about giving up Star Wars several times. Not because of anyone near my age though...My mom keeps going on these anti-scifi/fantasy rampages and makes me feel like a failure, and a sinner, and that I'm doing nothing with my life...on and on and on. But I like it. I'm finishing high school like she was never able to, and I'm not going to stop liking something because someone else tells me to.
Everyone is different, and that sucks that kids at school bother you about it. Star Wars in the end is just a story someone told. There's no reason for anyone to get bothered about liking a story, or loving it. ...and screw conformity. What's the fun in being like all those "normal" people?
Faux had been lost in thought, still stunned by what the Mandalorian had told her.
"We'll take care of you, and the other survivors. There's a job for everyone- tending to the wounded, scouting, even just carrying supplies and ammo. You're a part of the Mandalorian war machine now... maybe even one day a Mando'ad yourself."
The short haired red-head felt at the place where she had cut off her own padawan braid, her wide eyes staring off at nothing.
Even the Jedi...would never...could never...be expected too... Since when were the Mandalorians more forgiving than the Jedi???
Then the blasterfire started, and all of Faux's thoughts stopped and she lost herself instantly inside the force. The padawan dived at Mandalore's legs and tackled him in front of the moving tank, not realizing she had knocked him out of the line of a sniper shot.
Fenneth Crow sat down at the end of the table and put his heavy boots up casually. Two extremely nervous looking servants came in and started loading the long table with an elaborate setting of food and drinks.
The yellow-eyed humanoid adjusted his lenses, "Well, first you tell me your name, I give you a down payment, and if the terms are agreable on both sides...then we get down to the fun part."
He idly took out the heavy blaster pistol he was armed with and examined it.
"Not Enough." Faux commented quietly, still staring at the kolto patch on her injured hand that she held protectively to her chest.
The killing part of war had been strangely easy. The Mandalorians wore helmets. That helped. She didn't have to see their faces when they died. She might as well have been carving through training droids. The truly difficult part had been watching...when...the padawan cringed and watched the horrifying scenes as countless others fell...and simply...stopped moving...if they were lucky. Faux forced herself to exhale slowly.
"What are you going to do with us?" Faux tried to hide her plotting eyes from the Mandalorian next to her, and listened to the sound of the enormous tank following closely behind.