Action, Adventure, Excitement, Part 9: Star Wars / Space Opera
                               Chapter 2


Subject: AAE9s: Doc Energy and The Temple of The Sith Part 2

On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 06:07:08 -0500
Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00012448

Meanwhile, in the sewers below Cairo:

Volkov spent a good deal of the latter part of his life running. This
was ironic, since as a boy he often ran in the fields near the Steppes
for fun with he and his brother Ivan. Like his brother and family
before, those days were long dead. [Frankly, I tire of this running
and hiding. Were it not for the Egyptian army seeking me out and a
bounty on my head to boot, I would not have to endure such things as
rats and offal.] he said as he made his way down one side of the
tunnel heading into the sewers. He had been forced to live as a
scavenger, using the local native dress and a careful application of
mud to hide his distinctive features. His powers, while formidable,
were limited since he could only control the cold and not create it
anymore.

It was the Buddha who said that anger at another was like picking up a
hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone. While normally all
that would do is burn, in the case of Volkov, it was freezer burn. The
anger directed at his still-living foe was like a large chunk of dry
ice sitting in a deep freeze. If you could touch it, it would burn
with cold. Since this is primarily what drove him to the streets in
the hope of one day rising to smite his enemies, it was a distraction
at times.

Which is why he didn't notice that he was in an unknown part of the
sewers until he was well and truly lost. His anger at himself grew to
fear as hours went by and still he seemed to be going in circles.
Suddenly he heard a laugh that echoed through the unused sewer system
like a gong. The Iceman never was much for the higher emotions of the
heart, but the lower ones such as hatred and fear did well enough. Not
that he ever showed such...until that moment when his fear became
terror.

"Little man. Did you really think I would have forgotten about you?
All those years, waiting to personally deal with you after the loss of
the Spear of Destiny and your broken contract with me." said the
voice, which was a baratone straight out of the Abyss. Volkov suddenly
remembered the day the Nephandi prince rescued him from being captured
by the White Russian, and the subsequent deal, and a cold sweat began
to form on his brow. "Though the efforts of my Brothers and Sisters in
the Dark to keep the Traditions and The Order at each others throats
came to naught, I believe that you still yet may be of some use to
me."
Romanov swallowed, then in a barely neutral voice said, "And what do I
get in exchange, my Prince?"
The laughter grew louder and seemed even closer than ever. "Do not
think that you have any position to bargain with me. Your acceptance
of my offer is non-negotiable since either choice you make will bear
the same results. The manner of your death is up to you, but I suggest
if you wish to overcome your enemies, you would do well to accept my
offer."
Volkov lowered his eyes, and said quietly, "I am yours to command, my
Prince."
"Excellent. Now, unfortunately for you, I must take steps to ensure
you are unhindered in your work where you are going." said the voice.
The last thing he thought before the pain began was, [I have a really
bad feeling about this.]

Hours later, Volkov awoke in a dark cave. He began to stand up, and
realized that something wasn't quite right about his gait. He seemed
larger, and filled a room more than he used to. He was a tall man, to
be sure, but this was something else, something....alien. He felt a
strange weight on his back as he staggered out of the mouth of the
cave into a mountainous area. Still feeling the effects of what ever
the Nephandi did to him, he peered out into the darkness of the
Afghanistan night. Suddenly his vision corrected itself and he could
see in the night as well as the day. It was then when he looked down
at himself that the realization of what happened to him darkened the
door of his mind. The weight on his back were wings, bat-like with a
sheen like polished black leather. There was a twinge of pain in his
right arm, and he looked down to see a gun-metal grey cyberarm where
his arm used to be.

The villagers in the valley below heard a unholy sound, like the sound
of a cat being strangled or worse. What it was, they couldn't say, but
they burned the fires all night long. Had anyone seen what it was or
known what was to happen, they would have fled in terror. It was the
cry of joy mixed with pain.
^Do you like your new self, my pet?^ said a voice like velvet in his
mind.
^Yes, my prince. It is though my chains have been released and my true
self revealed. Though, if it would please you, I would like to know
just what has happened to me?^ he said as he made his way back into
the cave.
^It would amuse me, anyway. You are now Tharkoldu. You are no longer
male or female. You are now sexless and without remorse. You have
Awakened the dark within you, I just chose a more suitable form for
you based on my desires. {} This is where you must go. There are many
others who look like you do there, and there are some who do not, but
fear you anyway. The fear gives you power, but you get more power from
pain. Your right arm is now hides a Ultra Pain Weapon. Down in the
valley below is a village. I suggest you go there if you want to know
what you can do. Just follow your instincts, and you will learn.^
Taking his masters' words to heart (if he even had a heart) he beat
his wings and took to the air. As he flew up he saw the village down
below, their hearth fires burning. Using his new vision, he could see
the people in their huts, their bodies radiating fear in waves.
^A word of warning, my pawn. If word gets out that there is a demon in
these parts, you will recieve a lot of attention from UNTIL.^
^No explanation needed, my lord. Those that will survive will be
unable to tell what happened to them.^
The Nephandi Prince laughed, ^Excellent. Go forth, my servant.^
Volkov joyfully dove down, headed for the heart of the village.

About an 2 hours later:
Col. Jason North of UNTIL had seen many wars in his 20 year career,
including recent action in New York. Nothing he had seen nor heard of
before prepared him for what he saw in a village near the
Pakistan/Afghanistan border. He remembered something he had heard
about the tortures in Sierra Leone before President Zerostien came to
power there, but this was pale in comparison. Each person had the same
curious wounds in the crook of the elbow. Two puncture wounds, deep.
What was horrifying was the look of sheer terror on each man, woman
and childs' face. Many of them had died, though no other marks were
found on the bodies. Those that survived were not able to describe who
or what did this to them as they were all blind, their eyes clouded
over with cataracts. Steeling himself, he turned to his XO who was
already starting to turn green from the smell of offal in the hut
where all the dead ones had been left. "James, steady yourself, and
contact HQ for a medical evac of all survivors. Get our espers and
UNTIL agents here ASAP. I want to find out who or what did this before
something far worse happens."
Lt. James "Cap'n" Kirk shook himself and replied, "Yes, sir."
saluting, then turning around to head to the radio to give the orders.

Over the skies of India, near the Storm border:

Volkov felt something he hadn't felt since before his accident. Joy.
Elation. Pleasure. These things are more came unbidden. This didn't
compare to the sensations he felt while 'playing' with the villagers.
[The ease of which it was done would have probably worried me. But for
some reason, I feel....confident. No longer concerned with what
the....] he struggled with the thought as he caught a wind current
that took him to the south and west towards his destination [pav scum
that would persue me if I were to be caught. Still, my master bade me
to be quiet so I will fly into the heart of the storm towards the
place He told me about.] Pulling up a map in his right cybereye, he
could see his position near the storm border and his destination which
was a place about 50 km from an abandoned temple near Ahmedabad.
Angling his approach, he headed into the teeth of the storm. Red and
blue lightning arced through the skies, but never touched him. The
rain soaked his grey, leathery skin and his shoulders ached in pain as
he beat his wings furiously against the winds that threatened to tear
him apart. The pain seemed to be the only thing that kept him going,
ever...so...slowly, until finally he cleared the storm area. What he
saw below him was a lush jungle. It was more dense than he expected,
but here and there he could see patrols of what looked like men in
white armor accompanied by large metallic objects walking on two legs.
He could see the pilots of these machines and could make out the
strange weapons protruding from the front and sides. [Perhaps I could
have sport of these primates.] Suddenly a jolt of pain emerged from
all over his body temporarily knocking him out of the air. As he fell
to earth, his Master spoke. ^Never forget who is in control here,
pawn. It amuses me that you seek to take the initiative, but this is
not allowed now. Continue to your goal. If you are stopped by others
of your kind, address them as your superiors and say that you do
Thratchen's will. Now GO!^ Suddenly the pain stopped just in time for
Volkov to avoid a sudden stop. He slowly climbed back up to heights
and continued on his way.

Daylight was emerging when it finally reached the jungles near the
temple. He could feel the life around him, though where it was he
couldn't say. The sense of everything made Volkov uneasy, but it was
not concerned with that. It looked around before finding a high enough
tree, and with a swift leap, landed in the top where it sat...and
waited.

Meanwhile, at the UNTIL field office stationed at the airport, Doc
Energy was feeling quite tired. It was a long journey, and he had to
pilot most of the way thanks to a short circuit in his autopilot. He
was still dormed down due to the need to be discreet, but he was
already on his second plate of lambchops and saffron rice at the
airport diner when Imam Hassan-al-Sabah arrived with an UNTIL officer
in tow.

Romanov set his utensils down, and stood up to greet his guests.
"Greetings and Asalaamalaykum, friend Hassan. I trust this man has the
things I requested?"
The officer, who's name tag said Davis and emblems indicated Lt. Col.
rank, nodded. The imam smiled, "Yes, o Energetic One, though I suspect
that Lt. Col. Davis here is not happy with having to give up such
prize winnings.
"If he had hid the fact that he'd taken them and not registered them
in the official count of spoils during the Empire's last try outside
the border, he probably wouldn't have to 'donate' them to your
foundation." said Ana as she emerged from the restroom. (OOC: You
really don't want to know, but it does involve three seashells, a cube
of strange crystalline matter, and an oil change)
Davis shook his head, "I still don't like it, Doctor. I had intended
to use them later, and I doubt they would be returned to the imam in
one piece, given where you say you are going."
Romanov shook his head as he sat down to finish the rest of his lunch
before leaving. "You needn't worry, my dear Leftenant Colonel. They
will be returned to you when the Slingshot returns, and if they cannot
be a suitable trophy will be sent in their place." he said between the
last bites of lamb and rice. He wiped his mouth on a napkin then stood
up. "Ana, shall we go?"
"Yes, uncle." said the Platinum Princess as she finished the remains
of her chocolate shake.

Out in one of the hangars, Ana let out a low whistle. "I had heard
these things were fast, but I had never seen one up close before."
Davis grinned as he stood along with Romanov, Hassan and Ana inside
the hangar. Before them were two speeder bikes, straight out of
Episode 6. (OOC: Technically, they didn't exist before then, but let's
say that the Empire already were using them and we just never saw them
until that point.)
Romanov studied the speeder as it hovered there. [The propulsion
system is good, but the design leaves much to be desired. Far better
to just strap a rocket to our backsides and hope for the best, but it
beats walking] he mused. He stepped with his right foot onto the
sidepeg and threw his leg over, seating himself like a bike rider. The
controls for speed were the handles, while the shaft of the sticks
were used to guide the forward rudder. There was a hat switch on the
left stick for guiding the forward blaster, but the arc was limited.
"Well my dear, it's time to saddle up."
"Yay." said Ana as she jumped into the air and landed perfectly onto
the seat.
Romanov saluted the officer and waved goodbye to the imam. "Give my
best to your beloved wife, my friend Hassan. I will return to try her
coffee and dessert when the Champions and I kick the Empire out."
"Of course, my friend. Amalaykum a-salaam, my friend. Safe Ether."
"Clear skies." said Romanov. Turning to Ana with a grin like the cat
licking the cream he said, "Last one to the temple buys the first one
dinner at O'Charley's." as he rocketed out the hangar down and turned
to the east.
"Wait for me!" cried Ana mock-worriedly as she struggled to catch up.

On the way to the border, the storm clouds grew thicker and more
dense. The two speeder bikes were making good time on the plains near
the river. So far, nothing major had happened other than the
occasional bird getting in the way and getting nothing worse than a
few feathers knocked off. They headed into the teeth of the storm.
#Brace for magnetic field.#
#You bet, uncle. Prepare to buy me dinner.# said Ana as she twisted
down on the throttle and sped forward ahead of her uncle into the
heart of the storm.

On the other side of the border, a Probe droid made a series of noises
as the speeder bikes emerged from the storm. Some klicks away, Outpost
Gamma Nine-Four recieved the incoming transmission. A lowly tech
listened intently, his brown face creased in concentration as he wrote
down the translation from the droid. He took his earphones off and
marched quickly over to the comm station. {Captain Fiker, this is Comm
Station One. Imperial probe droids detect two Scout bikes entering
from the storm. The markings match two bikes that were reported
missing along with the two Scouts. Readings indicate two possible
Storm Knights headed northeast.}
A voice sounding more annoyed than interested said, {Possible, or just
more primative scum trying to cause trouble. Dispatch two AT-ATs on
patrol near their position with orders to intercept and detain if
possible. Fiker out!}
{Yes, sir!} said the radio man. Switching to another frequency, he
smoothly said, {Units Beta7 and Alpha1, new orders as follows. Proceed
to Grid 212 and engage enemy combatants. Detain if possible for
further questioning.}

Off in the distance, Romanov could see vague shapes towering above the
trees near the jungle. He would have guessed what they were without
the need of laser fire, which came from the Imperial walkers in
spurts. #Evasive action# said Doc Energy as a bolt of heavy laser fire
came within inches of blasting him out of his metallic boots. Ana
whooped and breaking away from her slight lead on her uncle, she sped
ahead to go after the first walker. Only her android reflexes were
able to dodge the withering fire from the main guns. Her uncle sped
after her. [Impetuous girl.] he thought reflexively as he too dodged
incoming fire from the walker. His power suit radar picked up another
ping. It was a second walker heading their way. #Ana, my dear, while I
cannot die of natural means, you might kill me yet. I trust there's a
reason for your reckless behavior?#
#Yes, uncle. Since we are outgunned and probably outmanned, the best
action is to rush under them and into the relative safety of the
jungle. We'll be long gone by the time the Imperials figure out where
we are.#
[It sounds so crazy, it just might work.] thought Romanov. There was
much frantic driving as the bikes closed the distance between them and
the first walker. As they drew in side formation, they veered to the
right as a double blast of fire tried one last attempt to stop them.
As they approached the underside of the AT-AT, a hatch opened up and 8
Rocket Troopers emerged from atop the walker, firing blasts of energy
from their heavy cannons. The rocket troopers weren't as fast as the
speeders, but they didn't have to be. They just had to be fast enough
to follow. And follow they did into the edge of the jungle.

Inside the jungle, it was all The Good Doctor and Ana could do to not
get smashed against the giant tree trunks. The rocket troopers were
having a harder time of it, since about half of their force smashed
into limbs or got tangled in thick over hanging vines. Romanov stole a
glance over his shoulder and saw the troopers turn back and head in
the opposite direction. Breathing an inward sigh of relief, he turned
his attention to his still speeding niece.
#Approaching target destination in 5 minutes at current speed and
heading.# said his suit computer.
{Ana, we need to slow down, otherwise we will hit a tree and get
disembarked.}
Ana groaned, {Ok, uncle. Slowing down just slightly ahead. I see a
clearing ahead of us.}
Romanov nodded, throttling back and coming to a stop just on the edge
of the clearing. What he saw there he had never seen before or since.
A large sprawling temple complex but with markings different than what
was on record.

Off in the distance, Volkov heard a noise of something approaching.
Using his newly aquired sight, he was able to see what was coming
near. What he saw made his heart leap with joy. [I can finish them
right now.] A slight wince of pain emerged. ^Don't even think about
it. Together, these two have stopped you before. You will wait to see
if they emerge with the Heart.^
^Yes, my lord. I live to serve.^ said Volkov as it jumped down from
the tree and made its' way to the clearing near the temple on the far
side, out of sight of the pair.

TBC
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9S: Slingshot

On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 11:35:15 -0800 (PST)
Rob N Said As CAoL Message # 00012450

>David McMillan Said As CAoL Message # 00012446
>
>>>"By the by, Master Nishikawa, might you spare a jelly baby? I am
>>>afraid I missed lunch."
>>>
>>   "I can do better than that," Rob replies, "assuming you don't
>>mind military ration bars. Surplus from 'MPVK Enterprises.'" He
>>hands over a pair of foil-wrapped bars.
>
>   Grephnix accepts the bars gratefully as the group moves on towards
>the Darklighter. "MPVK? An oddly familiar name -- I feel certain I
>should recognize it."

   "I have no idea," Rob notes. "I found myself on Kline Station, and
these were going cheap. But they don't break your teeth, like most
ration bars, and I needed food. Oh, and I worked out the pull date -
they're supposed to be good for another two years."
===========================

Subject: AAE9s: A Wretched Hive

On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:41:08 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012452

>On Wed, 16 Mar 2005 22:42:56 -0800
>Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012433
>>On Tue, 15 Mar 2005 20:35:45 -0800
>>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012425
>>
>>   The cybernetic demon snorts again and turns to leave...then
>>begins sniffing the air, like some hellish cat scenting prey. Its
>>nostrils flare wide as he breathes in again, twice. With
>>lightning-quick suddenness, it rips Anakin's cloak aside, revealing
>>his lightsaber. The demon leans its face right next to the opening
>>in Anakin's hood. "Explain."
>>   "Collector's item," Anakin says with a gulp. The demon growls...
>
>Harlock's voice pipes up from behind the techno-demon. "An
>explanation _would_ be nice, at that. What _are_ these dohickeys?"
>The techno-demon turns to see the Bard handling a lightsaber with a
>quizzical expression on his face. It reaches for its belt and yanks
>out...a large salami.

   The Tharkoldu looks at the salami in utter confusion for a moment.
Then it sniffs the meat, and popping one cybernetic wrist blade,
slices a small chunk off and catches it in its teeth. After making
short work of the short piece, it nods and begins ripping the deli
food to shreds with its impressive shark-like teeth. The demon stops
after decimating (and masticating) about half the salami, which takes
all of five seconds to devour, and turns back to the now-human-looking
Harlock. "That is not--" it begins.

Then...
>On Thu, 17 Mar 2005 10:28:10 -0800 (PST)
>Rob N Said As CAoL Message # 00012434
>
>   Rob replies, "I don't know, but you can get them in pawnshops if
>you look carefully," as he flips a lightsaber from hand to hand
>before "disappearing" it with a magician's flourish. [Distraction,
>misdirection, and bluff. And the juggler's toss should have hidden
>the "Made in Taiwan" stamp.]

   _Now_ the techno-demon is truly suspicious -- but also utterly
confused. Its normal course of action when faced with a group of
humans this unruly would be to tear them to small pieces and Dominate
any that survived. Here, however, its orders are to be
more...circumspect.

OOC Note: Insert Grephnix's pending legerdemain here. ;^)

   Now completely out of its depth, the blue-gray cyborg shakes its
head and says, with surprising neutrality, "One moment please," to
Roland. It then retreats to the other Tharkoldu, who gather and
discuss the situation while the one demon finishes off its salami.
   A more slender Tharkoldu looks over at the group when the demons
are done conferring, speaking into its wrist and asking for a
recommended course of action. Apparently it is told to wait while the
'higher-ups' do something.
   A wave of _foulness_ washes over the bar (and indeed, most of the
Old Quarter), one so strong even the ords feel it. Most of them shiver
or turn queasy, though a few of the most scummy-looking seem to light
up (darken down?) as it happens. Those sensitive to such energies, of
course, feel it much more strongly. Qui-Gon scowls furiously, while
Anakin turns an unfortunate shade of green.

Morgan frowns, then her eyes go wide and she shields Roland. Too late.

   Roland screams, falling out of his chair before Morgan's protective
field stops the attack. The wave passes a few moments later. The
lens-link's natural filters block the transmission of the effect, but
most can probably tell that he was briefly 'treated' to the feeling of
being immersed in boiling acid.

/*Sithspit,*/ Morgan sends to all of her companions. /*We've probably
just been made. Thratchen knows Roland's taint weakness. We can't meet
back at the ship now...*/

   /*The rebel cell,*/ Roland cuts in, rising on wobbly legs and
glaring at the rapidly arming-up demons. The bar starts to empty out.
/*Qui-Gon, think of the location.*/
   *Here {},* Qui-Gon replies. *Anakin is calling in our transport.*
   Roland nods. /*Thanks.*/ The Champion regains his feet, a
five-foot-long staff appearing in his hand, crackling with
electricity. "Five techno-demons shouldn't slow us down much," he says
openly in a dangerous tone.
   "Except," a vile, silky voice intones as four humanoids appear next
to the demons, "that is not all you face."
   Roland's borrowed features twist into a hateful grimace, his sheer
antipathy shocking even (perhaps especially) to old friends.
"Markoth," he snarls.
   "And friends," he replies with a disgusting grin, gesturing at the
three crimson-clad Royal Guards at his side. "I have spent a great
deal of time contemplating exactly how to exact my revenge on you,
Defender, for all those years in prison. With what Thratchen has
planned for you, however...it will satisfy me simply to watch." His
grin spreads as the other eight warriors move warily forward,
twin-headed spears twirling in the Guards' hands and various ugly
weapons sprouting from the demons' appendages. "I'll keep myself
occupied with killing a few of your friends for now."
   Roland's snarl becomes a roar of pure rage, ferocity enough to give
even the techno-demons pause, as he leaps at Markoth with the staff
spinning like a helicopter blade in his hand.

^Roland! Don't feed the Dark Side!^ Morgan warns as she charges at one
of the Royal Guards. The blade of the belt dagger in her hand grows to
about three feet in length, sheathed in a soft greenish glow.

   The Eternal bites back several curses, trying to force calm into
himself as he attacks Markoth with blinding speed. The evil sorcerer
pulls a red lightsaber of his own, but screams with high-pitched
piteous terror as he barely parries the fearsome assault.
   "By the Force," Anakin breathes as he and Qui-Gon attack a pair of
techno-demons. "What happened to him?"
   "I suspect they are old enemies," Qui-Gon answers, parrying a blast
and shearing off a small cannon protruding from his demon's arm. "This
is why you should be mindful of the Dark Side, Anakin -- it lays many
traps for the unwary."
   Anakin nods, then goggles at his 'Aunt Morgan' as she drives the
extremely skilled Royal Guard (not quite Maul class, but disturbingly
close) back almost effortlessly. "What happened to _her?_"
   Qui-Gon laughs. "Training."
===========================

Subject: AAE9s: Doc Energy and The Temple of The Sith Part 3

On Wed, 23 Mar 2005 00:31:54 -0500
Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00012454

Hours earlier at Champions Island:

>On Fri, 18 Mar 2005 19:04:31 -0800
>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012436
>>On Mon, 28 Feb 2005 02:50:17 -0500
>>Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00012410
>>
>>Suddenly there is a delicate sound of thunder as the BORIS One comes
>>in for a landing on the tarmac outside the entrance. The hatch opens
>>whereupon The Good Doctor and The Platinum Princess make their way
>>down the gangplank. They march right in and take a seat that's
>>available. "Sorry for the lateness of my arrival, friend Roland, but
>>I was delayed in Cairo by unfinished business involving a certain
>>Snowman. I doubt I have seen the last of him, but for now, I have
>>bigger concerns. Like where can I find a glass of hot chai to drive
>>the chill from my bones, for starters." said Romanov with a wry
>>grin.
>
>   Jeffries is at his side literally three seconds later, chai in
>hand (or rather, on tray). Even Roland boggles. "How does he _do_
>that?" he mutters. Jeffries merely smiles enigmatically...

Equally boggled, but grinning mirthfully anyway, the Good Doctor takes
the chai tea and says, "Spaseba, friend Jefferies. They broke the mold
when they made you."

>>Romanov speaks up, "I believe that Anna and I would like to
>>accompany those going to the Empire. I believe there is a certain
>>Imam who owes me a favor, and I doubt that the Celestial Chorus
>>would want to lose one of their prize mosques in Ahmedabad."
>>"I have one request, however. According to your mission reports," he
>>said, "you helped defeat the Empire in another realm different from
>>this cognate. I think it would behoove us to have a native guide of
>>a sort to train those of us not familiar in the ways of The Force. I
>>have had limited experience with this, but it sounds like just
>>another form of energy. Anna, however, is not so gifted and could
>>use training. Do you know of anyone in particular who could help?"
>
>   Roland grins. "Our contacts in Hyderabad should be able to help
>you with that. They know...a thing or two about the Force." His smile
>fades away. "But do not mistake the Force for 'just another form of
>energy.' I've been there, and it's...alive, somehow. I can't describe
>it better than that, but the Force is life and spirit and will and
>power all at once, yet both more and less than all that...all at once
>yet none at all..." he shakes his head.
>   "Imagine if the Akashic Brotherhood, Dreamspeakers, and Sons of
>Ether all got together to create a living paradigm and infused it in
>the world's Prime. That's the Force, after a fashion. Then imagine
>the Nephandi polluting it and that's the Dark Side." The Eternal
>shrugs. "The Force doesn't lend itself to easy descriptions or easy
>answers. Just some friendly advice."

A fragment of memory came flashing in, quick like lightning and just
as elusive. "There is something to what you say, friend Roland. The
matter deserves further study."

At the Temple ruins, now:

Romanov studied the markings on the temple door. Ana was busy checking
the bikes out to see if any repairs needed to be done. [That is very
interesting. The markings are consistant with Ishram Thundercloud of
the Akashics told me of the temples in the area. What was curious
about the markings was not the changes that the reality had made, but
rather what it had added and enhanced in some areas. #Computer, run
scan of all known marks of the Lodge, as well as the Nephandi.#
#Compliance.# There was a hum in his mind as the machine accessed his
digitized memories. #Analysis complete. The markings are Akashic, and
there are some similarities with the Euthanatos which are partially
removed and replaced with other unknown markings.#
#Spazebo, Computer.#
"Hmm," muttered Romanov, "AHA!" he said aloud just as Ana was coming
back to the entryway in her wrenching gear.
"What is it, uncle?" asked Ana curiously, knowing what that expression
on her uncle's face meant.
"I know what it was that I remembered after speaking with Roland. It
didn't come to me until it quite literally stared me in the face." he
said, pointing to a guardian figure over the door.

Years ago, deep in the mountains of Tibet:

The Abbot of the monastery was a gentle soul, but few realized that he
had the potential to smash walls and break bones. After years spent as
a warrior for the Light, he and his Akashic brothers built this
monastery to study the Way. Along the way they made many enemies, but
a number of good friends. One particular friend was the shaman of the
village below them. He was a Dreamspeaker, a keeper of one of the
sankara stones. He brought the stone with him when his old home was
overrun by the Euthanatos, with the help of some lesser Princes of the
Nephandi. Fortunately for him and the rest of the world, the shaman
was able to secret the stones out of the village, at the cost of his
family and eventually his name as he made his way over the unforgiving
terrain of the Himalayas to eventually stop at the village of Dagobah.
Considering it a sign from The Dream, he made his way up to the
mountain where the newly built monastery was.

The first thing that Romanov thought when he saw box was the massive
amounts of Etherium particles that were eminating from the box.
"Bolshie Moi! Abbot, do you know what you have there?"
The Abbot grinned, "I have the answer to that power problem you were
telling me about with your prototype. That old armor of mine had to be
put to some use, so I saw no harm in giving it to you. I spoke with
the shaman of the village below, and he instructed me to give this to
you with this message. 'Trust in the Dreams of the Stone. When they
reveal themselves, the Living Essence of the Rock will come forth and
give great things.' What that means, I cannot say, for the
Dreamtouched Ones are inscrutable, even for myself." he said,
motioning to one of the acolytes to bring forth the box which was
lying on the table near the bonsai tree in the abbots' library.

The acolyte set the box down, bowed and returned to his duties. The
abbot opened the box and a simple rock, with grooves spiraling around
the rock painted white. Though the age was apparent, the waves of
Prime were turning into a flood. He had to turn down his Prime setting
on the goggles, and still the lines on the stone glowed faintly. "It's
perfect. Thank you, my friend." he said somberly. "Has she made any
progress?"
The abbot shook his head sadly, "No, I am afraid her health has become
much worse. She had taken fever while you were gone, but we think the
worst has past. Thankfully, the Verbena nurse you provided was helpful
in getting her through the worst of it."

The problem, as both men knew it, was that Anas' illness was one of
the brain. Rather a tumor, which had metastasized until it was a
spider in her brain. He knew she had a small chance using modern
methods, so he turned all the impotent rage he felt towards something
better. He was already working on a prototype Prime-powered robot that
was to be used as a training helper for the Akashic brothers, but he
lacked the important element to keep the machine functional, adaptable
and capable of operating day and night if needed. He smiled, something
rare in the dark days since, and said. "This is good. Since Dr.
MacCoul decided to stay with her and monitor, I have all the things
that I need aboard the BORIS One."

Romanov purposely strode into the makeshift hospital room in the old
neophytes quarters. Many of the neophytes helped Dr. MacCoul with
various tasks such as fetching water and keeping the cold, Tibetian
wind out with their fireplace. As it was, Anna MacCoul was used to
death and dying. She had seen much in her travels with the Peace
Corps, and disease and dying was just part of the package. She did the
best she could with what was available, but what she could do is ease
the suffering by infusing her blood with a potion to ease The Lost
Princess's pain. The potion hung on an IV drip, which hung at the head
of the bed near Ana.

He saw that the potion was about to empty as he got closer to the bed.
He laid a hand on theback of the neck of Dr. MacCoul, gently touching
the short, fire engine red hair. He tousled her hair as a close friend
would, and said, "Come, Doctor. We have much to do and little time to
do it in."

Now:

".....and so with the help of a Dreamspeaker, an Akashic Brother and
the help of a gifted healer who has family in both camps, I brought
your new earthly form into being. It was my greatest creation,
surpassing that of the BORIS One tenfold. But I knew that the computer
brain would not be ready until much later when the Chains of Paradox
would loosen. Once that happened, it was only a question of.."
"the opportune moment to present itself." quipped Ana as she unpacked
the tools. "So what does this have to do with our current mission
here?"
Romanov smiled, "Ah. That's the rub. From what I understand, The
Living Force is everything that Roland described, and yet
undescribable. I cannot specifically locate where it comes from, but I
can tell where it is the strongest due to the Prime of this reality.
This living paradigm as any sentient being would. The problem here is
that we don't know what the Living Force thinks. These markings might
tell us, but I think another better idea would be to show this
information to our friends when we connect with them."
Ana became enthusiastic, "Then let's go. I always wondered what it
would be like to meet Luke Skywalker in person. Maybe I will get to do
that?"
"Perhaps," said Romanov as the Terrific Two made their way to the
speeder bikes.

Volkov watched as The Good Doctor and the Platinum Princess sped away.
^What shall I do, my prince?^
There was a noise, similar to a sigh of complete and utter boredom,
coming from within his mind. ^Alas, it appears that our Good friends
will not take the bait for the trap yet. What they may not realize is
that this temple was sacred to My Kind. The Euthanatos were dreadfully
easy to corrupt, especially once the Akashics were driven out
initially. They returned with a vengance and fell upon the Dead Ones,
killing every man and woman within. They sealed it up, and placed
warnings to keep all away from it. Thanks to this 'reality', We have
an edge that may prove useful to Thratchen once it is made aware of
the importance of the Temple. Follow the Champions, and see where they
are going and who they might be meeting there. Once you learn this, go
to the nearest superior and give your loyalty. You are to serve in
Thratchen's army until I deem otherwise.^
Volkov bowed low, and lept into the sky above his perch as he said
"Yes, my Prince."

Meanwhile, the stacks near the Old Quarter of Hyderabad, Romanov and
Ana were having a tough time. They bypassed the spaceport
all-together, and made their way through the seedier part of town.
Leaving the speeders seemed the sensible thing to do, all things
considered. They approached the Darklighter from the front. The
Twi-lek working the door bows to the Terrific Two, but before she can
speak, she is handed a card by Romanov and told "Friends of Capt.
Jameson. Would you direct me to his table?"
"Certainly. Come this way, please." she says in a sultry voice. She
winds her way around various tables to the large one where the team
and two strange gentlemen sit.

"Good day, my friends. I trust I am fashionably late?"

>On Tue, 15 Mar 2005 20:35:45 -0800
>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012425
>
>'Captain Jameson' gestures to a couple of characters (OOC: I'm taking
>volunteers now; he would have asked earlier) to stand guard over the
>'transaction.'

Ana nods and takes a guarding stance along with Rob.

>   "The Living -- ah, my movement has gained strength since I took
>Anakin as my...pupil." Qui-Gon nods to himself, clearly choosing his
>words carefully due to the environment. "We have been sequestered for
>too long. Our leader," he continues, his head inclining subtly toward
>Moonstone, "does not exactly approve, but he does see the potential
>benefits, and believes the experiment worth the danger. The rot in
>_our_ government nearly destroyed us, and our order was blind to it."

"Pardon me, sir." said Romanov, subtly inclining his head towards Ana
"but I was wondering if you would be able to take another pupil on. I
am afraid I cannot teach her what she needs to know, and she must have
the best given her unique skills in the trade."

>   Qui-Gon nods, his expression deeply thoughtful. Morgan is reminded
>keenly of her grandfather. "The 'techno-demons,' yes." He frowns.
>"Alas, it gets worse. While the Emperor has apparently kept the true
>secrets of the Sith to himself, he has been training his Royal Guards
>in Dark Jedi arts. I hear rumors, dark rumors, of training grounds
>that slaughter candidates by the dozen before the prospective
>students even know what they are being considered for."
>   Roland's neck twitches. "Switch," he whispers. Vocally, he begins
>to haggle over the price of the data chip. Meanwhile, he mentally
>brings Qui-Gon and Anakin into the link. /*The schematics,*/ Roland
>explains to his fellow Callahanians, /*are for the Emperor's palace
>in New Delhi, where the land-bound portion of the Maelstrom Bridge
>touches this world. Since our best efforts never seem to get us
>anywhere other than a gigantic final battle in the heart of the
>villain's power, I figured we'd cut right to the chase.*/ He grins,
>then pauses, psychic senses probing as he thinks.

/* Friend Roland,*/ says Romanov while silently drinking his beverage,
/*There is another issue. I believe that my assistant Ana is in need
of some guidance as well. Her recklessness almost got us the wrong end
of a tree back a ways, and I have some information {} (OOC: It's a
summation of Ana's revealed origin as well as the ways and means used
to create her.) that might be useful to Master Qui-Gon in regards to
her and the strange temple I found near the border.*/

>   OOC: None of you think it'll be that easy, right? Good. <eg>

OOC: "Well, Mr. Hunt, it's not a Mission Difficult, it's a Mission
Impossible, difficult should be a walk in the park for you."

>   /*There's a rebel cell on the outskirts of town,*/ Qui-Gon informs
>them as his mind adjusts to the link. /*We have not met them face to
>face as of yet, but their information has been completely reliable.
>They also have a rather nondescript transport we can take. The pilot
>is reluctant to accompany us further than the New Delhi starport, but
>the others intend to assist us. From there we -- aw, nass.*/
>   Five techno-demons walk into a bar...

Which prompts a Trandoshan comedian to say, "Stop me if you've heard
this one..." which promptly gets him the hook before he finished the
joke.

Then...
>On Wed, 16 Mar 2005 18:46:20 -0800
>Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012433
>
>Harlock's voice pipes up from behind the techno-demon. "An
>explanation _would_ be nice, at that. What _are_ these dohickeys?"
>The techno-demon turns to see the Bard handling a lightsaber with a
>quizzical expression on his face. It reaches for its belt and yanks
>out...a large salami.

Ana watches in fascination as the technodemon greedily eats the
salami, an expression (if there could be one on that face) being one
of both anger and desire as hungers drive him to this display. She
watches as the other 4 demons take guard positions near the main exits
in groups of two.
Meanwhile, Romanov activates the neural link to his suit. #Computer,
run secondary weapon startup program but do not engage the main fusion
drive until my signal. Scan hostile targets for weaknesses and feed to
Ana once the correct data has been compiled.#
#Compliance.#

Moments earlier, outside the Darklighter:

Volkov watched with contempt as various patrons exited and entered the
establishment. His quarry had vanished inside and was being cloaked
from his scans. He did see him and his beloved niece enter, so he sat
up out of the heights to watch for them. He was fortunate in his
choice of hiding place, since the 5 technodemons failed to notice him,
or noticed him but chose to ignore him. [There is something to be said
about appearing as the locals. However, there are things....that I
don't like about this new body.]
^That is 'tough cookies' as the monkeys would say, my pawn. You are
fortunate to have your soul intact at all considering what I risked
and lost because of you. Had I taken the spear, noone else in the
Nephandi would have taken over the Society of Thule. Be thankful of
what I have done, and do nothing until I tell you to.^
^Of course, my prince.^ thought Volkov, ^You show great patience and
care on this lowly one.^
Volkov watched in indifference as the other four demons were ordered
by the larger one before heading inside. He watched and waited for the
inevitable outcome.
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: Slingshot...

On Wed, 23 Mar 2005 06:39:33 -0800 (PST)
Driscoll Said As CAoL Message # 00012455

>On Tue, 15 Mar 2005 20:35:45 -0800
>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012425
>
>   There is a pause as the remaining thugs witness this rampant
>display of potential (and kinetic) energy.
>   As one, they scream and bolt.
>
>Only her mastery of Life skills keeps Morgan from chuckling, if not
>laughing outright.
>
>   Roland shakes his head and sighs, though the smile broadens and
>warms. "They just don't make gangs like they used to." He chuckles.
>/I'd've sent a warning with one of them to make sure none of the
>other local thugs mess with us, but I just _know_ that by the time
>word spreads, we'll be up to our armpits in Stormtroopers and
>techno-demons./

 Drilea looks down at the two quickly cooling yet still smouldering
corpses of the thugs she shot with a distainful sigh. Sliding the
pistol back in its holster, she slips a hand into her pocket , then
sprinkles a little dust on each body. Her antennae twitch as she gives
the orders and the bodies seem to quickly start disolving as the
nanites go to work, disassembling the bodies an atom at a time,
shaving it down into their basic elemantal compositions.
 Holding her hands behind her back, she cassually skips into the bar
after the rest of the group.

>   With that, Roland enters the Darklighter, Morgan (and presumably
>the rest of the team) in tow. A solicitous-looking humanoid with two
>tapering tail-like lengths of flesh flowing from the back of her head
>instead of hair bows to the group, but before she says anything,
>Roland hands her a card. "The usual," he mutters, doing a
>surprisingly accurate simulation of a character with 'extra-legal'
>activities being discreet.
>   "Of course, Captain Jameson," she replies smoothly, guiding the
>CAoLers to a large table in the corner (not a booth, though, and with
>seats of several sizes to fit everyone from the Yoda-oid to the Polar
>Lion) where two gentlemen already sit. She hands out menus and
>retreats. 'Captain Jameson' gestures to a couple of characters (OOC:
>I'm taking volunteers now; he would have asked earlier) to stand
>guard over the 'transaction.'

 Drilea hangs back away from the table, mixing with the crowd, but
making sure she can keep an eye on the table and anyone trying to
evesdrop on it or make their way over towards it. Working her way over
towards the bar, she orders a Scarlet Sunburst casually, letting her
gaze slide over the crowd, sizing the beings up and smiling as she
spots a lot of familiar mannerisms and attitudes if not faces.
 Some mannerisms all too familar she refects as she feels a hand grip
her backside and give a squeeze. Resisting the urge to cut off the
hand and forcefeed it to whoever's behind her she casually glances
over her shoulder at a Twilek with a smug grin who's copping the feel.
She gives him back a sweet sweet smile and bats her eyelashes at him
before lifting her foot and smashing down the stilleto heel of her
boot on his foot as hard as possible.
 The Twilek's smirk is gone in a moment, lost in a cry of agony. His
eyes look ready to burst from his skull and the head tentacles flap
and twitch in their own silent scream. All od this is much to the
delight of the twilek's "friends" that were watching his "smooth
moves" and now are in danger of urinating on themselves form laughing
so hard as the twilek flushes with anger adn embarassment and tries to
slink back into the crowd without limping too much.
 Drilea sighs and scowls a bit as she thinks about how just a lifetime
ago she probably would have been on the other side of that hand,
though her moves were a lot more charming. She takes a slow sip of the
sweet drink as she ponders, but events end that train of thought as...

>   Five techno-demons walk into a bar...
 <OOC: But the sixth one knew to duck>

 Drilea studies the technodemons closely, with eyes alone at first,
then carefully feeling out with her mind, touching the cybernetics and
technological aspects fo the demons, not touching anything or
interfereing with anything, just exploring, learning their bodeis
better than they probably even do, finding the weak points where
systems could be distructed if need be to give an edge if it came down
to a fight. She sips her drink again as she slowly moves through the
crowd to get closer to the table while the other CAoL Members befuddle
and bluff the demons.
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: A Wretched Hive

On Wed, 23 Mar 2005 11:54:39 -0800 (PST)
Rob N Said As CAoL Message # 00012456

>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012452
>
>   A wave of _foulness_ washes over the bar (and indeed, most of the
>Old Quarter), one so strong even the ords feel it. Most of them
>shiver or turn queasy, though a few of the most scummy-looking seem
>to light up (darken down?) as it happens. Those sensitive to such
>energies, of course, feel it much more strongly. Qui-Gon scowls
>furiously, while Anakin turns an unfortunate shade of green.

   Rob reflexively forms a fist, but stops himself before he does
anything more noticeable. Not that it helps.

>/*Sithspit,*/ Morgan sends to all of her companions. /*We've probably
>just been made. Thratchen knows Roland's taint weakness. We can't
>meet back at the ship now...*/
>
>   /*The rebel cell,*/ Roland cuts in, rising on wobbly legs and
>glaring at the rapidly arming-up demons. The bar starts to empty out.
>/*Qui-Gon, think of the location.*/
>   *Here {},* Qui-Gon replies. *Anakin is calling in our transport.*

   /I take it that we're going with the classic Run, Hide, and Think?/
Rob asks, as he takes a half-step to the left.

>   Roland's borrowed features twist into a hateful grimace, his sheer
>antipathy shocking even (perhaps especially) to old friends.
>"Markoth," he snarls.
>   "And friends," he replies with a disgusting grin, gesturing at the
>three crimson-clad Royal Guards at his side. "I have spent a great
>deal of time contemplating exactly how to exact my revenge on you,
>Defender, for all those years in prison. With what Thratchen has
>planned for you, however...it will satisfy me simply to watch." His
>grin spreads as the other eight warriors move warily forward,
>twin-headed spears twirling in the Guards' hands and various ugly
>weapons sprouting from the demons' appendages. "I'll keep myself
>occupied with killing a few of your friends for now."
>   Roland's snarl becomes a roar of pure rage, ferocity enough to
>give even the techno-demons pause, as he leaps at Markoth with the
>staff spinning like a helicopter blade in his hand.

   [?!] Surprised by Roland's ferocity, he almost misses the demon
lunging at him, dodging its first strike with centimeters to spare.
After that, however, the surprises are all in Rob's favor.
   The first surprise is his telepathy. With a range of roughly six
feet, he generally describes it as, "more like telepathetic than
telepathic." But he can just read enough of the techno-demon's mind to
anticipate its attacks.
   The second surprise comes as Rob lands a palm strike, meant to push
his opponent back a few feet. Purely out of reflex, he adds his Ler to
the hit, denting the armor and knocking his foe across the room. [Wh?]
Re-checking his bracelet, he confirms what he knew - ki effects don't
work in this cosm. [What did I just do?]
   The last surprise is the chair that Anakin slides into the demon's
path as it charges, tripping it, and setting it up for a throw that
ends in an arc through the window.
   [Jedi. Ya gotta love those people.]
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: A Wretched Hive

On Wed, 23 Mar 2005 14:04:09 -0800
Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012457

>On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:41:08 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012452
>
>   The Tharkoldu looks at the salami in utter confusion for a moment.
>Then it sniffs the meat, and popping one cybernetic wrist blade,
>slices a small chunk off and catches it in its teeth. After making
>short work of the short piece, it nods and begins ripping the deli
>food to shreds with its impressive shark-like teeth. The demon stops
>after decimating (and masticating) about half the salami, which takes
>all of five seconds to devour, and turns back to the
>now-human-looking Harlock. "That is not--" it begins.

Harlock hides a smile. *Heh. Let this one go in the end, folx.
He...er, it just took the bait hook, line, and sinker.* Those who were
present during the "FuzzyQuest" recognize image overtones of the
comm-scrambling spell he had meant to unleash on the people guarding
the Gauge of Infinity, somehow combined with a nanotech vector. *It'll
probably take a day or so to work up to full potency unless they put a
_lot_ of resources into shutting it down, but once it's fully
active...*
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: A Wretched Hive

On Wed, 23 Mar 2005 15:16:07 -0800
Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00012458

At 08:58 PM 3/22/2005 -0800, you wrote:
>   A more slender Tharkoldu looks over at the group when the demons
>are done conferring, speaking into its wrist and asking for a
>recommended course of action.

Quiet Moon tenses slightly. His Magnakai Divination training is all
but screaming a warning-

>   A wave of _foulness_ washes over the bar (and indeed, most of the
>Old Quarter), one so strong even the ords feel it. Most of them
>shiver or turn queasy, though a few of the most scummy-looking seem
>to light up (darken down?) as it happens. Those sensitive to such
>energies, of course, feel it much more strongly. Qui-Gon scowls
>furiously, while Anakin turns an unfortunate shade of green.

Only the hastily-thrown up psychic screen prevents the Kai from
doubling over. Already, his weapons are in his hands, as he stands,
kicks the chair away-

>/*Sithspit,*/ Morgan sends to all of her companions. /*We've probably
>just been made. Thratchen knows Roland's taint weakness. We can't
>meet back at the ship now...*/

/Understood./

>   /*The rebel cell,*/ Roland cuts in, rising on wobbly legs and
>glaring at the rapidly arming-up demons. The bar starts to empty out.
>/*Qui-Gon, think of the location.*/
>   *Here {},* Qui-Gon replies. *Anakin is calling in our transport.*
>   Roland nods. /*Thanks.*/ The Champion regains his feet, a
>five-foot-long staff appearing in his hand, crackling with
>electricity. "Five techno-demons shouldn't slow us down much," he
>says openly in a dangerous tone.
>   "Except," a vile, silky voice intones as four humanoids appear
>next to the demons, "that is not all you face."

OOC: Roland: Champion, Eternal, all around Hero, and Fate's set-up
guy...oh, and <<snip>> of the Markoth Intro...

The melee is already underway as Markoth taunts, then backs away from,
the Eternal.

Quiet Moon's attacker chortles and advances, parrying the club strikes
with little apparent effort; The Kai's silvery batons can't seem to
penetrate the whirling double-bladed spear. "And I thought you were
good. Go back urk!" the Royal Guard stops as his mind is speared by a
Kai-Surge. It fights off the psychic attack, snarls, and charges
again, mixing both physical and psychic attacks.

The Kai can sense the battles going on around him; he also picks
something out, a small discarded tube...

The spear strikes an invisible wall of force. Using the free second,
Quiet Moon rolls back, reaches out with his psychokinetic abilities,
and snags the 'novelty welder' accidentally dropped when the fighting
started. Already chanting a Power Grasp spell, the Kai darts forward,
forcing the excess power into the welder, stabbing the supercharged
blade into the gut of the Royal Guard. Stricken, the guard keels over,
hands going to the already cauterized wound, wrecked torch rolling
away.

OOC: Annddd....NEXT! Or, I'm outta time and I gotta send!
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: Doc Energy and The Temple of The Sith Part 3

On Wed, 23 Mar 2005 18:57:32 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012459

>On Wed, 23 Mar 2005 00:31:54 -0500
>Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00012454

<Temple of the Snip>
>>On Tue, 15 Mar 2005 20:35:45 -0800
>>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012425

<Snipisode II: Attack of the Snips>
>>   "The Living -- ah, my movement has gained strength since I took
>>Anakin as my...pupil." Qui-Gon nods to himself, clearly choosing his
>>words carefully due to the environment. "We have been sequestered
>>for too long. Our leader," he continues, his head inclining subtly
>>toward Moonstone, "does not exactly approve, but he does see the
>>potential benefits, and believes the experiment worth the danger.
>>The rot in _our_ government nearly destroyed us, and our order was
>>blind to it."
>
>"Pardon me, sir." said Romanov, subtly inclining his head towards Ana
>"but I was wondering if you would be able to take another pupil on. I
>am afraid I cannot teach her what she needs to know, and she must
>have the best given her unique skills in the trade."

   Qui-Gon looks slightly surprised. "My former Padawan has recently
passed the trials, but I find it unlikely that I will be in your
universe, your...'cosm' for sufficient time to teach even the
rudiments. And while I am hardly one to object," he adds with a
chuckle, "she appears a bit old to begin training."
   If Ana appears ready to object, or be insulted, Anakin notes with a
wry grin, "They said the same thing about me when I was _nine._ The
Order doesn't like starting with anyone over six months old."

<Snipisode III: Revenge of the Snip>
>>   Roland's neck twitches. "Switch," he whispers. Vocally, he begins
>>to haggle over the price of the data chip. Meanwhile, he mentally
>>brings Qui-Gon and Anakin into the link. /*The schematics,*/ Roland
>>explains to his fellow Callahanians, /*are for the Emperor's palace
>>in New Delhi, where the land-bound portion of the Maelstrom Bridge
>>touches this world. Since our best efforts never seem to get us
>>anywhere other than a gigantic final battle in the heart of the
>>villain's power, I figured we'd cut right to the chase.*/ He grins,
>>then pauses, psychic senses probing as he thinks.
>
>/* Friend Roland,*/ says Romanov while silently drinking his
>beverage, /*There is another issue. I believe that my assistant Ana
>is in need of some guidance as well. Her recklessness almost got us
>the wrong end of a tree back a ways, and I have some information {}
>(OOC: It's a summation of Ana's revealed origin as well as the ways
>and means used to create her.) that might be useful to Master Qui-Gon
>in regards to her and the strange temple I found near the border.*/

   Roland chuckles. /*Kids. Look, Doctor, I don't know about you, but
I jumped headlong into my share of scrapes when I was younger --*/

/*'Younger?'*/ Morgan quips with a fond grin.

   /*-- hush, you,*/ Roland replies with equal fondness.

/*True, your Kzin blood hardly shows any more.*/

   Roland sighs and looks imploringly to the heavens, though the smile
he can't force off his face ruins the effect. /*_As_ I was saying...in
the Callahanian adventure that started us off, I got chewed out good
for using an airlock I apparently wasn't supposed to. I don't think I
ever managed to make the captain realize I _did_ seal it behind me
before jumping. Of course, that still leaves the fact that I jumped
out of a space ship to land on an Oa overrun by Parallax and several
fictons' worth of Forces of Evil(tm). Not that you shouldn't try to
temper that impulsiveness, but it's part and parcel of our line of
work.*/
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: Doc Energy and The Temple of The Sith Part 3

On Thu, 24 Mar 2005 01:32:54 -0500
Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00012460

>On Wed, 23 Mar 2005 18:57:32 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012459
>>On Wed, 23 Mar 2005 00:31:54 -0500
>>Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00012454
>
> <Temple of the Snip>
>>> On Tue, 15 Mar 2005 20:35:45 -0800
>>> Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012425
>
> <Snipisode II: Attack of the Snips>
>>"Pardon me, sir." said Romanov, subtly inclining his head towards
>>Ana "but I was wondering if you would be able to take another pupil
>>on. I am afraid I cannot teach her what she needs to know, and she
>>must have the best given her unique skills in the trade."
>
>   Qui-Gon looks slightly surprised. "My former Padawan has recently
>passed the trials, but I find it unlikely that I will be in your
>universe, your...'cosm' for sufficient time to teach even the
>rudiments. And while I am hardly one to object," he adds with a
>chuckle, "she appears a bit old to begin training."

Ana blushes, which is quite a feat in and of itself. "I am _so_ not
old. I'm, like, 18." she says in quite possibly the most obnoxious
Valley Girl impersonation anyone has ever heard. Romanov chuckles.
/*Please forgive. I am afraid dear Ana found my Frank Zappa collection
some time ago and has been listening to him religiously. Especially "A
Ship Too Late to Save a Drowning Witch"/*

>   If Ana appears ready to object, or be insulted, Anakin notes with
>a wry grin, "They said the same thing about me when I was _nine._ The
>Order doesn't like starting with anyone over six months old."

Ana grins, "So what kind of guru, are you anyway? All seriousness
aside, my uncle means well, but I think there are some things that one
just cannot Do and some things that one can Do.

>   Roland sighs and looks imploringly to the heavens, though the
>smile he can't force off his face ruins the effect. /*_As_ I was
>saying...in the Callahanian adventure that started us off, I got
>chewed out good for using an airlock I apparently wasn't supposed to.
>I don't think I ever managed to make the captain realize I _did_ seal
>it behind me before jumping. Of course, that still leaves the fact
>that I jumped out of a space ship to land on an Oa overrun by
>Parallax and several fictons' worth of Forces of Evil(tm). Not that
>you shouldn't try to temper that impulsiveness, but it's part and
>parcel of our line of work.*/

The Good Doctor nods with understanding, /*Yes, I noticed that Chaos,
Mayhem and Lunch is pretty SOP around here. It does wonders for the
circulatory system, especially when they give you a heart attack on a
regular basis.*/ he says with a 'why-me?' look that is totally ruined
by the grin on his face. /*Perhaps it is just me over-worrying. While
Nicholas and the Tsarinia were her parents, they were either too busy
with affairs of state and/or worrying over much about the health of
Alexi. If it were just another case of reckless behaviour, I would say
yes.. But there's the crystal that powers her matrix. It's alive, and
I think somehow being in this cosm has awakened abilities that are yet
untapped. As far as I recall, I never installed an intuition program.
Her reflexes are fast, but this wasn't just fast speed. And there are
the dreams. Her dreams have been of a temple deep in a jungle, with
strange markings. A flash of red and green lightsabers in the dark,
and then a demonic figure standing in something that looked like the
Valley of The Jedi.*/

Romanov smiles, "Perhaps it is best that she learn things on her own,
instead of me having to teach them to her."
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: A Wretched Hive

On Thu, 24 Mar 2005 02:25:06 -0500
Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00012461

>On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:41:08 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012452
<snip of a bluff and switch>

>   Now completely out of its depth, the blue-gray cyborg shakes its
>head and says, with surprising neutrality, "One moment please," to
>Roland. It then retreats to the other Tharkoldu, who gather and
>discuss the situation while the one demon finishes off its salami.
>   A more slender Tharkoldu looks over at the group when the demons
>are done conferring, speaking into its wrist and asking for a
>recommended course of action. Apparently it is told to wait while the
>'higher-ups' do something.

[Oh boy, time for some fun with cyberdemons.] thinks Ana as she powers
up her combat module. He hair glows a lighter shade of red, which Doc
Energy recognizes. He shakes his head with a rueful grin. [Ana, it
would be wise to hold your actions pending further evidence of combat
action.]

Ana shakes her head, #Don't worry, Uncle Emil. I assume that these
flunkies are calling for back-up, so I will hold my actions until they
reveal their hands.#
The Doc nodded slightly. #Da, that was astute of you. Had I not been
monitoring their comm channels, I wouldn't have guessed that either.
Oh well, I was looking forward to sampling the local cuisine.#

>   A wave of _foulness_ washes over the bar (and indeed, most of the
>Old Quarter), one so strong even the ords feel it. Most of them
>shiver or turn queasy, though a few of the most scummy-looking seem
>to light up (darken down?) as it happens. Those sensitive to such
>energies, of course, feel it much more strongly. Qui-Gon scowls
>furiously, while Anakin turns an unfortunate shade of green.

Volkov feels the wave wash over him like a putrid tide. The dark
energies strengthen him somehow. He chuckles as he watches 4 humanoids
enter the bar quietly. 3 of them are dressed head to toe in crimson,
their faces hidden under blood red helmets. ^What should I do now,
master?^
^Wait for your quarry to emerge. While I would relish the idea of
causing as much pain as possible to Defender and his friends, it
doesn't serve my purpose. Patience, my pet.^
Volkov shuddered. Not from the wave that was beginning to ebb, but
like that of a dog that is straining at its' leash, begging to be
loosed.


Inside the bar, Romanov felt the wave of vile energies flow around
him. His eyes began to glow, as well as the wrist bracers that were
over his blue and white jumpsuit, and his face turned a rather
interesting shade of purple. Ana gasped, "Uncle?!? What's wrong?"
Clutching the edge of the table so hard as to break off a piece of it,
he choked out "It...is....the energies of this wave." As he did, he
slid from his chair down on one knee while sweat poured off his head
like a river. The lens-link filtered out some of the effect, but the
feeling was like being dropped head first into a boiling lake of lava.
He knelt there, while Ana stood guard on his prostrate form.

<snip of A Series of Unfortunate Events>
>/*Sithspit,*/ Morgan sends to all of her companions. /*We've probably
>just been made. Thratchen knows Roland's taint weakness. We can't
>meet back at the ship now...*/

Ana," said Romanov while rising to his feet slowly, "Stay here and
help with the escape. I will go outside to secure the area for our
transport."
"Yes, Uncle. Please be careful."
"I will

The Good Doctors' form begins to glow as his body becomes pure energy.
There is a crackle of static as he zooms out of the room, arcing over
the heads of three technodemons, including the ugly, rude one from
before. #One of these should prove good fun. Romanov out.#

Ana utters a warrior cry, and joins the fray.

<snip of A Duel of the Fates>
>   "By the Force," Anakin breathes as he and Qui-Gon attack a pair of
>techno-demons. "What happened to him?"
>   "I suspect they are old enemies," Qui-Gon answers, parrying a
>blast and shearing off a small cannon protruding from his demon's
>arm. "This is why you should be mindful of the Dark Side, Anakin  
>it lays many traps for the unwary."
>   Anakin nods, then goggles at his 'Aunt Morgan' as she drives the
>extremely skilled Royal Guard (not quite Maul class, but disturbingly
>close) back almost effortlessly. "What happened to _her?_"
>   Qui-Gon laughs. "Training."

Ana looks over at the Salami Eater just as it's about to fire at
Morgan behind her back. She casually blasts him with a palm cannon
shot, which knocks him back 3 feet into a booth with a crash of
crockery and formica. "I don't think so, meatpuppet." she quips,
bringing her left arm up in a guard position. A mesh round shield
appears and glows with blue energy as the forceshield activates. Her
right thigh compartment opens and a swordless hilt emerges. She draws
the weapon and holds in a neutral position. Suddenly a 3 foot long
crackling bolt of lighting appears where the blade should be. She
assumes a defensive form, and does the Kung Fu Theater "Come here"
hand wave.

The demon rises from the rubble and laughs, "You will suffer greatly,
Storm Knight."
Ana shrugs off the Fear effect like an old coat, and laughs heartily.
"You are such a weak minded male, meatpuppet." Upon the insult, the
brute charges forth, painsticks swinging wildly. Ana barely blocks the
first one with her shield, due to the strength of the arm more than
surprise. This opens up the demon for a riposte, which shears off one
of his arm cannons. More furious than focused, the technodemon rains a
furious series of blows upon her, which she blocks with both shield
and sword. Barely..

Moments earlier, there was a crack of thunder followed by a flash just
outside the door to the bar. A form appears, and Volkov strains
mightily at the sight of his hated foe. ^Now, my lord?^ he sends to
his unseen benefactor.
^Now, my pet. Use the special weapon I have given you.^
Volkov holds out his right arm with palm outstretched. A cylander
appears out of his palm. He points it at the rapidly shifting form of
Romanov as his energy form begins to change to humaniod and fires. A
dark sphere of energy speeds towards The Good Doctor and strikes him
full force in the chest area. The dark energy spreads, and he barely
has time to send, #Ana, come quick! It's Volkov and he's....# before
the glob of modified carbonite hardens and turns him into a statue.

Inside, the transmission hits Ana just as the demon swipes at her with
a bladed tail. #Uncle!# she sends, not getting a response. Anyone
watching sees her face go from confident to fearful, which was the
only distraction the fiend needed as he knocked Ana down on the
backswing of his tail and whipped around to strike her in the chest
with both painsticks.

Outside, Volkov smiled at the frozen form of Doctor Energy. "So, my
hated foe," he said in a merry tone, "We at last come to our fated
destination. Only now it seems that you are the one in a pickle. My
master tells me that he has plans for you, so I think perhaps we shall
see each other again. Then you will know that it was I that brought
you to your doom."
^That's enough, my hand. Micronize him, and place him in your storage
compartment. When a superior Tharkoldu presents itsself, prostrate
yourself before it and say exactly this...

The cyberdemon smiled triumphantly as both painsticks came crashing
into Ana's midsection. There was a flash of lightning as the charges
emptied into her. Had she had a nervous system in the first place, she
would no doubt be dead. Fortunately for her and unfortunately for her
current foe, her robotic frame and matrix are shielded and hardened
against any such devices. The proximity to her power core, however,
proves to be quite annoying.

"This has been fun, but I really must go." she quips as her shield
retracts and she stretches her palm toward the demon. The cyberdemon
floats in the air, seeming to be in the grip of something around his
neck, but not choking him. Not that he would notice since a wave of
her hand sends him flying into the Royal Guardsman that Quiet Moon was
finishing up with. Sheathing her lightning sword, she blasts out of
the bar, and into the street where her uncle was. Not a trace of him
can be found, though in the chaos that is the fleeing patrons, it was
hard to be certain. #Uncle Emil? Are you there?# No response from the
matrix.
#Computer, locate Dr. Romanov.# she said in a desperate tone
#Dr. Romanov is currently en route to New Delhi, with several
cyberdemons in tow. I have been tracking him by a faint energy
signature emitting from what appears to be a statue made of carbonite.
There is another neurosignature I am detecting nearby his location
that seems familiar. It's that of Volkov, but certainty is 65.55%.#
said the computer matter of factly.
*/Volkov! That cursed man Volkov has captured Dr. Energy and is taking
him to New Delhi./* says Ana, not bothering to hide the frustration
and rage she feels at this news. Suddenly, the doors to the bar crash
open and the Platinum Princess barrels into the room. Drawing her
electrosaber, she tears into the remaining Royal Guardsman with gusto.
He barely deflects the brute force of her blows, thanks to the nature
of his weapon, and smiles as she appears to weaken. "Just another scum
like the OOF!" he says as a thunderous left hand body blow knocks him
back into a wall, barely cracking the plaster and landing on his feet
like a cat.

She assumes a defensive posture with the saber, as the Guardsman
attacks. She parries all of his blows effectively, but her defenses
start to fray even more due to the distraction. Then she remembers her
Brotherhood training. [Let the aggressor come to me] she thought as
she barely blocked a pair of slashes by the doublesaber. Suddenly with
crystal clarity she could 'sense' where he was going to attack next,
and blocked effectively. So well that he was immediately put on the
defensive. A quick swipe of the electrosaber slices the spear clean in
two, and the guardsman switches grips. He goes on the immediate
offensive, which is effectively blocked by Ana. Finally she says,
"ENOUGH!" and Force Pushes him into the bar with a crash, knocking him
out of commission.

Ana looks at her left hand with a mixture of surprise and wonder. "How
did I do that?" she mutters to herself. "No matter." she walks over to
the twitching but still concious body of the cyberdemon she dispatched
earlier. Her right hand forms into the Mother of All Painsticks which
she holds to the neck of the demon just inches away from contact. The
demon twitches to try to get out from contact range, but Ana's left
hand clenches and the demon freezes in its' tracks. She closes her
eyes for a moment and says "It would be so *easy* to kill you now,
meatpuppet. I could do it and not even break a sweat. But I am not
going to, because it wouldn't be proper and besides I wouldn't want to
draw myself down to the level of some two-bit villian like Volkov. No.
You aren't worth it." As she says that, the rage empties from her
face. She transforms her arm back to normal, and with a grin picks the
demon up by the tail, and does a 360 whirl which launches the
technodemon out the now-ruined front door and into the street with the
sound of various crashes emerging from without. She turns around with
a flourish, and looks as if to say, "Who's Next?" with saber and
shield at the ready.
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9S: Slingshot

On Wed, 23 Mar 2005 16:42:59 -0500
David McMillan Said As CAoL Message # 00012462

>>   Rob looks at the fleeing thugs, pulls out the bag of jelly
>>babies, and hands ten of them to the alien. "Let's call it a tie."

   "As I said," the hooded figure remarks off-handedly, "violence was
hardly required." He steps fully into the light, pushing back his hood
to reveal the face of a familiar stranger: Rogas Grephnix, who smiles
at the assembled party. "Good day, everyone. I had a strong premoniton
that this would be a propitious spacetime locus at which to rendezvous
with you all -- I am happy to see that said premonition was correct."
He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. "By the by, Master
Nishikawa, might you spare a jelly baby? I am afraid I missed lunch."

>>>>>>   The cybernetic demon snorts again and turns to leave...then
>>>>>>begins sniffing the air, like some hellish cat scenting prey.
>>>>>>Its nostrils flare wide as he breathes in again, twice. With
>>>>>>lightning-quick suddenness, it rips Anakin's cloak aside,
>>>>>>revealing his lightsaber. The demon leans its face right next to
>>>>>>the opening in Anakin's hood. "Explain."
>>>>>>   "Collector's item," Anakin says with a gulp. The demon
>>>>>>growls...
>>>>
>>>>Harlock's voice pipes up from behind the techno-demon. "An
>>>>explanation _would_ be nice, at that. What _are_ these dohickeys?"
>>>>The techno-demon turns to see the Bard handling a lightsaber with
>>>>a quizzical expression on his face. It reaches for its belt and
>>>>yanks out...a large salami.
>>
>>   Rob replies, "I don't know, but you can get them in pawnshops if
>>you look carefully," as he flips a lightsaber from hand to hand
>>before "disappearing" it with a magician's flourish. [Distraction,
>>misdirection, and bluff. And the juggler's toss should have hidden
>>the "Made in Taiwan" stamp.]

   OOC: Probably adding another unecessary layer to the "look how
clever we are" theme, but what the heck. Not that I think this is
going to *work,* of course....

   "Part of our cargo," Grephnix interjects from where he is now
standing on Ani's other side. "novelty items -- utility torches
designed to look like the trademark weapons of the Sith and Jedi." He
calmly snags Ani's lightsaber (or does he?) and brings it up to the
cigarillo dangling from his lips that wasn't there a moment ago. With
a characteristic SWIIISSSSHTHUMMMMMM, the lightsaber emits a 5cm long
flickering beam which Grephnix promptly lights his cigarillo with. He
tucks the saber back into Ani's belt without looking, smiling at the
technodemon all the while. "You see? Cheap at just fifty Imperial
Credits apiece, and they come in all colors. Could we interest you in
a complimentary sample?" As he speaks, he coincidentally puffs an
improbable amount of smoke out to linger in a cloud around the
technodemon's head....
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: A Wretched Hive

On Thu, 24 Mar 2005 00:25:46 -0800
Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012463

>On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:41:08 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012452
>
>   Roland's snarl becomes a roar of pure rage, ferocity enough to
>give even the techno-demons pause, as he leaps at Markoth with the
>staff spinning like a helicopter blade in his hand.

The Bard's eyes widen in alarm at this sudden show of fury. [I hate to
do this to a friend, but...] A muttered chant and a few gestures, and
Roland's target...shifts, at least to Roland's eyes.

>^Roland! Don't feed the Dark Side!^ Morgan warns as she charges at
>one of the Royal Guards. The blade of the belt dagger in her hand
>grows to about three feet in length, sheathed in a soft greenish
>glow.
>
>   The Eternal bites back several curses, trying to force calm into
>himself as he attacks Markoth with blinding speed. The evil sorcerer
>pulls a red lightsaber of his own, but screams with high-pitched
>piteous terror as he barely parries the fearsome assault.

As the real Markoth looks on, slightly confused, Harlock wanders
casually up to him. Backing his spellcasting up with a low level
psi-bolt intended to daze, he says "leave now. Go as far away as you
possibly can, and don't come back without a souvenir." [Even with FTL
available, that should take him a week or three...] A Royal Guardsman
trying to sneak up on the unlikely pair earns himself a spinning
backfist that knocks him into the nearest table.
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: Slingshot...

On Tue, 29 Mar 2005 07:14:02 +0100
Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012470

>On Tue, 15 Mar 2005 20:35:45 -0800
>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012425
>
>   Roland shakes his head and sighs, though the smile broadens and
>warms. "They just don't make gangs like they used to." He chuckles.
>/I'd've sent a warning with one of them to make sure none of the
>other local thugs mess with us, but I just _know_ that by the time
>word spreads, we'll be up to our armpits in Stormtroopers and
>techno-demons./

   /And then the 'don't mess with them' warning should be quite
obvious,/ Moonstone replies with a mirthful smile.

>   "As you have informed me, 'Captain Jameson,' I am thirty years
>dead by the Empire's reckoning. I suspect even the few who might
>recognize the man I was would not now, save perhaps my old pupil."
>Qui-Gon smiles. "I do not consider him a security risk."
>   There is a distant halo of light behind Qui-Gon, just for a
>fraction of a second, and the twinkling eyes of 'old Ben Kenobi' wink
>at the group. Then the image is gone.

   Moonstone gives the ghostly figure a barely perceptible flicker of
a smile.
   [As if things weren't interesting enough.]
   Looking down at the menu, she frowned.
   [Meat galore, yet I have the strangest desire to go hunt around
looking for shoots and seeds... oh great, guess I'm not a straight
carnivore anymore.]

<snip of chat and plans>
>   /*There's a rebel cell on the outskirts of town,*/ Qui-Gon informs
>them as his mind adjusts to the link. /*We have not met them face to
>face as of yet, but their information has been completely reliable.
>They also have a rather nondescript transport we can take. The pilot
>is reluctant to accompany us further than the New Delhi starport, but
>the others intend to assist us. From there we -- aw, nass.*/
>   Five techno-demons walk into a bar...

   /*Door, techno-demons, five,*/ Moonstone says as she looks askance
toward them while still reading the menu.

>   /*Master Qui-Gon, is there a rear exit?*/ Roland asks with swift
>efficiency. If he is concerned, the Champion does not show it (except
>to Morgan).
>   /*This is a seedy bar on the 'wrong side of the stacks,' Roland.*/
>   /*'Tracks.'*/
>   /*Not on Coruscant. Regardless,*/ Qui-Gon replies, /*there are
>five different methods of discreet exit that do not require breaking
>windows.*/

   Moonstone sets the menu down and closes it, as if she's decided on
her order, hands dropping to her lap.

>   /*If we must flee, you two go out exit two, my group will leave
>through exit four, and we'll meet back at the Slingshot, agreed?*/
>The two Jedi nod as the techno-demons split up. This being a
>cinematic universe, the largest, ugliest, and nastiest-looking of the
>Tharkoldu walks up to the table hosting the Callahanians and the
>Jedi.

To Be Continued...
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: A Wretched Hive

On Tue, 29 Mar 2005 08:09:01 +0100
Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012471

>On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:41:08 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012452
>
>   Now completely out of its depth, the blue-gray cyborg shakes its
>head and says, with surprising neutrality, "One moment please," to
>Roland. It then retreats to the other Tharkoldu, who gather and
>discuss the situation while the one demon finishes off its salami.

   /*I've got a bad feeling about this,*/ Moonstones notes warily,
subtly adjusting her position in her chair.

>   A wave of _foulness_ washes over the bar (and indeed, most of the
>Old Quarter), one so strong even the ords feel it. Most of them
>shiver or turn queasy, though a few of the most scummy-looking seem
>to light up (darken down?) as it happens. Those sensitive to such
>energies, of course, feel it much more strongly. Qui-Gon scowls
>furiously, while Anakin turns an unfortunate shade of green.

   Something stirs deep in Moonstone's mind, "Nooo," she whispers to
herself with a frown as if calming a familiar feeling. Then her eyes
widen, "No, that's _not_ of me."

>/*Sithspit,*/ Morgan sends to all of her companions. /*We've probably
>just been made. Thratchen knows Roland's taint weakness. We can't
>meet back at the ship now...*/
>
>   /*The rebel cell,*/ Roland cuts in, rising on wobbly legs and
>glaring at the rapidly arming-up demons. The bar starts to empty out.
>/*Qui-Gon, think of the location.*/
>   *Here {},* Qui-Gon replies. *Anakin is calling in our transport.*
>   Roland nods. /*Thanks.*/ The Champion regains his feet, a
>five-foot-long staff appearing in his hand, crackling with
>electricity. "Five techno-demons shouldn't slow us down much," he
>says openly in a dangerous tone.
>   "Except," a vile, silky voice intones as four humanoids appear
>next to the demons, "that is not all you face."
>   Roland's borrowed features twist into a hateful grimace, his sheer
>antipathy shocking even (perhaps especially) to old friends.
>"Markoth," he snarls.

   Moonstone smiles coldly. /*I knew there had to be a dragon in there
somewhere.*/ She doesn't disapprove.

>   "And friends," he replies with a disgusting grin, gesturing at the
>three crimson-clad Royal Guards at his side. "I have spent a great
>deal of time contemplating exactly how to exact my revenge on you,
>Defender, for all those years in prison. With what Thratchen has
>planned for you, however...it will satisfy me simply to watch." His
>grin spreads as the other eight warriors move warily forward,
>twin-headed spears twirling in the Guards' hands and various ugly
>weapons sprouting from the demons' appendages. "I'll keep myself
>occupied with killing a few of your friends for now."
>   Roland's snarl becomes a roar of pure rage, ferocity enough to
>give even the techno-demons pause, as he leaps at Markoth with the
>staff spinning like a helicopter blade in his hand.

   Moonstone leaps atop the table, lightsaber in hand, and parries
three blasts (off the glowing blade and into the ceiling) from one of
the technodemons to give the rest of her comrades time to strike more
effectively.
   As the combatants engage, Moonstone frowns.
   [One's missing...] she thinks, then looks around just in time to
parry the blade of the slender technodemon that seemed to be the head
of the initial squad that entered the bar.
   "Ah," Moonstone says, "There you are. As one girl to another, I
gotta tell you, the CyberGoth look isn't really you."
   "I'm not gendered, you foul, little meatbag!" the creature says,
swiping at Moonstone's midsection, her claws sliced off by the
lightsaber parry.
   "Ooo, you may be 'whittler' yourself if you don't back off,"
Moonstone says.
   The claws retract as three small rods pop up from the backs of the
slender technodemon's hands. Foot long energy blades emerge with a
lightsaber-like noise. The demon lunges forward, slashing at Moonstone
who parries, but the blades remain intact.
   "I'll slice you to pieces and eat them raw," the demon snarls.
   "I'd promise to do the same, but I'm on a new diet," Moonstone
says.

To Be Continued...

-- Moonstone
(OOC: I don't recall anyone calling 'dibs' on the slender technodemon,
I'll retcon if need be.)
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9S: Slingshot

On Wed, 30 Mar 2005 07:54:59 -0500
David McMillan Said As CAoL Message # 00012472

Peter Eng wrote:
>>>>>   Grephnix accepts the bars gratefully as the group moves on
>>>>>towards the Darklighter. "MPVK? An oddly familiar name -- I feel
>>>>>certain I should recognize it."
>>>
>>>   "I have no idea," Rob notes. "I found myself on Kline
>>>Station, and these were going cheap. But they don't break your
>>>teeth, like most ration bars, and I needed food. Oh, and I worked
>>>out the pull date - they're supposed to be good for another two
>>>years."

   Grephnix breaks the seal on one bar, takes a sniff, then nips off a
small bite. "Hmm." He proceeds to thoroughly chew and swallw said bite
(which doesn't take long) before passing his verdict.
   "I must say, a vast improvement upon the average run of military
field rations in my experience." He smiles just a bit. "Obviously, we
must keep this secret from the Empire at all costs -- the last time
they tried distributing Storm Poo-- ahem, Storm Trooper field rations
in Calcutta as part of their 'hearts and minds' campaign, the local
populace rioted to get them to *stop* distribution."

   OOC: Trying to catch up AGAIN -- Easter Weekend ended up being
Virus Weekend for yours truly. My nose ran for the hills and is still
AWOL as of this posting....
===========================

Subject: Re: AAE9s: A Wretched Hive

On Wed, 30 Mar 2005 08:58:49 -0500
David McMillan Said As CAoL Message # 00012473

>L.J. Wolfe wrote:
>   A wave of _foulness_ washes over the bar (and indeed, most of the
>Old Quarter), one so strong even the ords feel it. Most of them
>shiver or turn queasy, though a few of the most scummy-looking seem
>to light up (darken down?) as it happens. Those sensitive to such
>energies, of course, feel it much more strongly. Qui-Gon scowls
>furiously, while Anakin turns an unfortunate shade of green.

   For a moment, the shadows around Grephnix begin to deepen and flow
as the temperature drops. The Grey Jedi's eyes narrow, and suddenly
things return to normal as he figuratively puts his thumb on the local
Force scale and forces it back into balance...

>Morgan frowns, then her eyes go wide and she shields Roland. Too
>late.

   ...also too late. Grephnix watches his father and Doc Energy both
hit the flooe, and the muscles around his mouth tighten into the
faintest hint of a scowl as he reaches beneath his cloak. /*I must
admit, this makes me... rather angry.*/
   Qui-Gon's eyes widen in his direction as bands of Dark and Light
Force swirl about Grephnix, dividing and weaving, subdividing and
reweaving, over and over again in the space of a heartbeat, until his
singing rage and the coolness of self-discipline combine into a
smooth, uniform shade of grey....

>   Roland's snarl becomes a roar of pure rage, ferocity enough to
>give even the techno-demons pause, as he leaps at Markoth with the
>staff spinning like a helicopter blade in his hand.

   Music Cue: Nickelback/Silver Side Up/Just For

   Grephnix sidesteps into a shadow that shouldn't be there and
emerges beside a technodemon. His lightsaber ignites as it leaves his
cloak, the blue-white void-cored blade doubly-disarming the demon in a
single bato-jutsu-style motion. An interwined bolt of black and white
lightning from his free hand engulfs his target for a moment -- the
black merges with the technodemon's own Force aura and opens firing
lanes for the white lightning, which strafes its way across every
non-vital system in its cybernetics with the cool dispassion of a zen
master, all in the blink of an eye.
   One more eyeblink later, the technodemon hits the floor like a sack
of potatoes, unconscious, disabled, and leaking smoke from every
orifice.
   The Grey Jedi's eyes turn to the nearest Crimson Guard, who is just
beginning to catch up to this new threat axis.
   "Balance."
   With that single word, Grephnix *moves.*

>^Roland! Don't feed the Dark Side!^ Morgan warns as she charges at
>one of the Royal Guards. The blade of the belt dagger in her hand
>grows to about three feet in length, sheathed in a soft greenish
>glow.

   As Grephnix attacks in a sort of raging calm, the Light and Dark
sides of the Force flow and clash and merge about him like the bass
line and harmony counterpoint of a piece of orhcestral music. Plunging
and soaring, the two Forces dance like hating lovers, trying to
grapple and dominate each other. But somehow the Grey Jedi
orchestrates this elemental conflict into a single harmonious whole in
a constantly shifting and changing balancing act that brings together
chaos and order, darkness and light, into something less than a truce
but more than an alliance of convenience.

   Music Cue: Within Temptation/The Silent Force/It's The Fear
   OOC: I'll try to put a mp3 of this up on my FTP site tonight or
tomorrow -- it makes a good sorta-example of what I'm trying to
describe here: dark, almost despairing, yet achingly beautiful at the
same time.
   Of course, this is only stylistic -- the lyrics are definitely
*not* what I have in mind....

   The music reaches in Roland's direction, singing a song of
equilibrium, even as Grephnix's Crimson Guard opponent falters and
flunders as the same music keeps slipping into previously-unknown gaps
in his own one-sided Force sensitivity and threatening to merge with
and corrupt it.

>   "By the Force," Anakin breathes as he and Qui-Gon attack a pair of
>techno-demons. "What happened to him?"
>   "I suspect they are old enemies," Qui-Gon answers, parrying a
>blast and shearing off a small cannon protruding from his demon's
>arm. "This is why you should be mindful of the Dark Side, Anakin  
>it lays many traps for the unwary."
>   Anakin nods, then goggles at his 'Aunt Morgan' as she drives the
>extremely skilled Royal Guard (not quite Maul class, but disturbingly
>close) back almost effortlessly. "What happened to _her?_"
>   Qui-Gon laughs. "Training."

   "And... *him*?" Anakin asks, pointing at Grephnix with his chin
while carrying through a lovely riposte.
   "He," Qui=Gon replies somberly as his own opponent loses an arm,
"decided to play with fire."
===========================

Subject: AAE9s: The Reappearance of a Woman in Black

On Sat, 2 Apr 2005 21:48:42 -0800 (PST)
Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012479

Most women would not walk alone in the dark streets of Casablanca,
especially carrying several fortunes worth of Hiroseki Stones. Not to
mention her other winnings from Rick's tables, tonight, a not
inconsiderable sum.

Then again, it required all of her talents plus the lies even this
Shadow could generate to pass herself off as a normal woman, so she
rarely attempted such. Deadly and competent, however, suited her role
as a smuggler and freelancer just fine. A martial artist's walk, a
coiled spring in her arms, eyes that monitored each shadow for danger
kept the simple thieves in place. Coupled with a feeling that spread
in the night before her, of death's nearness and an intimate knowledge
of the fragility of life that kept the more ... advanced and
intelligent ambuscaders in place as well served to see her safely
through.

No one, despite numerical advantages, simply thought their luck good
enough to try against her, tonight.

Grephnix had failed to make her through her disguise. Considering how
long-accustomed the lad must be to her beating people at cards, to do
so and remain unrecognized was a quite satisfactory performance. It
was bad luck he had run her off from the fight, but it would have been
out of character to insist more than once to remain.

She nonchalantly walked up to the Milennium Unicorn. It had been too
dangerous to use Pheonix or Falcon - the bady guys undoubtedly watched
off-world movies, too, and they all knew Roland in misfortunate ways.
If they actually looked at the ships registered in the Portmaster's
office, or even asked around, they would notice. No baddies likely
would - her own mystery endured, despite almost two hundred and fifty
years of infrequent operation on Earth-9. She was no Atlan, perhaps,
but she wasn't a headliner.

The Storm Poopers efficiency had definite limits when it came to
simple, good detective work. No one had linked her face to the young
Jedi as yet, and probably would not until morning. It would astonish
her if Thratchen knew aught of Amberites or Unicorns, although the
invading High Lord might suspect. Unlikely as such was, she had
learned never to underestimate villains; Infra-Red was a harsh but
effectual teacher. Besides, she'd even once been a villainess herself
- not on the scale of a TORG High Lord, but in her own way, just as
bad.

The woman in tight, black leathers makes a face - whose features
aren't the ones familar to CAoLers - to rid herself of a gloomy frown.
She unties the falchion's sheath at her waist, pounding
shave-and-a-quarter on the entry ramp with the bottom end of the
pommel. She quickly jumps back, so the lowering door doesn't conk her
on the head, escaping only by inches despite her dimunitive height.

"Hey! I thought you were gonna repair that door, you demented carpet
bag?"

A roar of complaint like a disturbed hibernating bear trying to hit a
contralto's middle-C in vibrato echoes from the dimmer interior of the
spaceship.

"Oh? Well, leave it for now. We're about to have passengers, so we
need to get emptied. Go tell your friends to get their shaggy butts
down here, or they'll wind up empty-handed. And where the hell is my
blaster? I want that working before our company comes." The ramp
slides up before any answer comes bellowing forth.

Captain Zia Solo
"The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a
purpose." - William Cowper
===========================