A Change of Pace [CIS Dominion of Nar Kaaga]

[Djorn Bline]

Canal was sent an invitation by Colonel Isley saying that they were having a negotion with a hutt on Nar Kaaga. I'd love to join. Canal was recently on Kamino making sure that the new clones were passing their final exams in the stimulators and congratulating them. He went to a shuttle and brought along a clone that was a newly pilot so Canal made sure that he was ready for the real deal.

After going through hypersapce they finally reached the system. It was a good ride since they were both having a talk and the clone who's name is Hawk, asked Canal about the front lines and the battles he has been so far. They landed on the planet and parked on a landing platform. "Thanks for the ride, Hawk," Canal said to the clone. "Any time, sir," Hawk replied to Canal. Hawk then departed off to go to his new position in the CIS air force.

All dressed up nice. White tee shirt, blue jeans that were an expensive brand, a brown leather jacket with military boots, and a bald head. Nothing too expensive just casual. As he was entering he saw Calico leaving. "Brother, where are you going. Don't you think its time for you to have a break?" He said to Calico as he saluted him.

@[member="Commander Calico CC-247"]

 

[Revenchent]

Calico was already on a ship. he was at the beach, doing beach things. The party was ended, for whatever reason, and Canal had been invited to the beach party. There, Canal could pick up pretty ladies and hang out with his clone pals.

@[member="CC-117 Canal"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

A blonde-haired man strode down the causeway to the party with the kind of lackadaisical gait found only in the most self-confident creatures of nobility. His eyebrows were lowered slightly in a pensive frown over stormy blue eyes that wandered, lost in thought. Several thoughts, to be precise, but more specifically he was mulling over the fact that every fourth person he passed was apparently non-existent in the Force. It felt like walking around with a bunch of lifeless zombies.... which the vong-shaped clones might as well be. He was not overly found of populating the galaxy with look alikes whose proximity was sure to cause problems with the gene pool.

The man wore a tan leather jacket with a high collar that hung to just below his knees. Corellian sand panther. The finest. A dark brown belt with gold rims and buckle drooped at his left side, where his Sith sword hung in its scabbard. Murmegil. Darkness spewed from the blade like a self-sustaining fountain. A nexus of Dark Side energy. Its owner fought against the corruption, but only slightly. He refused to give in to his more base urges. He would not become a mass murdering sadist. The struggle in the Force pervaded his aura as Light and Dark engaged in a constant war for control. Bogan had the upper hand for now, but how long that would last remained to be seen.

In this pensive state, the noble man, for by carriage he must surely have been nobility, turned the corner and nearly collided with @Serian Lora. The blond halted suddenly, eyes snapping onto Lora with an unsettling and piercing gaze that was the trademark of his lineage. Dark haired, broody-looking. Interesting.

"Excuse me, I didn't see you there," said Tycho Shorn pleasantly, for it was he. He smiled benignly.