Star Wars: Oblivion

[The Dark Man]

[Theme]

It is a period of total war. The Sith have returned,
striking into the heart of the Galactic Republic. A
group of Jedi have fled to the Tingel Arm in an
attempt to reform ancient traditions.

Anarchy rules in the Unknown Regions. While the
Galactic Republic struggles to defend
from its conflict with the One Sith Empire,
death worshippers and fanatic zealots
lay waste to the fringes of the galaxy.

Now a new hope emerges. A daring group of
padawans strong in the Force, led by a mysterious
Jedi, travel into the Unknown on a perilous quest to​

restore peace to the war-ravaged worlds.


[ Ambience ]

Ekul Selah stood in a large hangar. He was aboard a station orbiting Ession, a planet recently in control by the Ession Reformation movement. It was spacious, with pilots and technicians mulling about. X-wings were arrayed across the massive hall, ancient tech but they still worked. The technicians gave them a new shine, and the pilots tested them for bugs. They were in good working order. They were cheap, reliable and deadly. Exactly what you wanted in a starfighter when you didn't have much credits to throw.

Ekul Selah was better known as The Dark Man. A Jedi who had forsaken his name in a show of ultimately fealty to the Force. He had made a call out into the galaxy. Word was spreading, something was lurking beyond the known galaxy. A threat no one saw coming, and few lived to tell the tale. The Dark Man was taking it upon himself to find out this threat, and bring peace and balance back to the Unknown Regions. He called upon the most gifted padawans across the galaxy to take up the old tradition of a Quest Knight, to devote their will to this single task.

A collection of astromechs were cuddled around nearby, of all varieties and colours. The technicians had called them rust buckets due to their age, but they still did the job, and they did it good. Each Quest Knight would receive their own astromech alongside an X-wing. It was just a matter of waiting for their arrival, and so there he waited. Clad in his dark, tarnished robes. His large oval spectacles sitting on his wide nose. His face was blemished by countless moles and freckles, and there was a sense of foreboding about the task set before him.


{ [member="Senji Selah"] | [member="Jaani Doosun"] | [member="Kaigann Fossk"] | [member="Kelios Shara-da"] }

 

[Senji Selah]

| Senji Selah |

[SIZE=9pt]T[/SIZE]he thumping sound of metal against metal was heard touching and grinding against each other as the landing gear of the large Transport ship touched down in a secluded hangar bay, its presence known by the noise resounding through the large and relatively empty metal structure of this small part of the space station. Slowly the coarse hum from its engine came to a halt and for a fraction of a second; there was peace once more within the hangar. It didn’t last for very long however, the hissing pressurizing sound from the Transporters main door was suddenly heard, gasses spraying out through various vents in the spacecraft to allow the door to open. Only a few seconds afterwards the door slowly started to lower, doubling as a ramp and almost immediately various races of all kinds started to scatter out through the door, some carrying large bags and others carrying almost seemingly nothing, probably having left their belongings in the Transport that would continue down onto Ession in an hour or two.

[SIZE=9pt]Senji still almost couldn’t believe his eyes when he replayed the holo recording that was stored on his old datapad, the blue glow from it faintly lighting up his seat in the barely lit cabin where the low class travelers where seated, it was almost entirely empty right now. Only a week ago he had much to his surprise been called to the mail and HoloNet office at the Ossus Jedi Academy. They had received a holo recording through a broadcast directed personally to him. That was not what had surprised him the most though. After all, he had corresponded with off-worlders before and still occasionally received updates on what was happening throughout the galaxy. No, it was more the face of the man in the holo recording that had utterly shocked Senji. Even though he had never seen the man before in his life it had occurred to him almost immediately who was talking in the pre-recorded message, it had been his Father. The very same man who had left him at the Ossus Academy at the fledgling age of one standard year, leaving to never return. And n[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]ow, he was asking for Senji’s help. At first Senji had been reluctant to go, he had even been mad, angry with his father for daring to ask such a favor, he had suffered from the emotional stress that followed as a consequence of the lack of his father AND mother. But as he had watched the recording repeatedly throughout the day, the feeling of… Senji wasn’t sure how to describe it, but something had compelled him to go and now after a few days of travel he was sitting here, in orbit high above Ession on the space station where his father had told him to meet him. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=9pt]A gruff snort was heard from somewhere in front of him as the captain, a male Dug came wandering down the middle isles of the transporter, walking on his upper limbs as the Dugs now did. “Oi, Fellarrr. Yar ride ends ‘ere.” The Dug waited until Senji slowly started to rise from the seat, standing with some sort of chocolate bar in his leg hands, finishing it before Senji had gathered up his things “Hurry now, boya! Can’t waitrr all day!" It said in its rough, accented voice.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Senji slowly exited the craft, tightening his black gloved grip around a simple rugged sports bag hanging over his left shoulder, his gaze scanning the hangar. Senji was a 1,85 meters tall Human male with a well built, muscular frame and had it not been for the durasteel mask that was covering his face, one could probably have assumed him to be around the age of thirty-one. He started to walk towards the entry gate, his knee high dark leather boots squeaking at every step and his long black robes with silver like trimmings reacting to these steps, moving softly around him every time his legs pushed them out of their way. On these legs a pair of loose trousers that kept the rest of the black colored theme was sitting, their loose composure allowing for effortless movement.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]It didn’t take too terribly long for Senji to get through the security and whatnot, seeing as it was almost non-existent compared to the other places Senji had traveled on his way here. He had even been so far ahead of himself that while in line for the entry gate he had already grasped the hilt of his curved lightsaber to show it together with his passport. Realizing that there was very little need for all of this, he had attached it back onto the thick belt that was strapped around his waist, moving on down a small corridor.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]As Senji finally entered the main hangar the noise coming from the casual pilots and technicians that was mulling about was heard at its fullest, not that such entitled too much. It was almost calming in one way or another. Quietly, careful to not break the silence, Senji continued his pace past lines of X-wings, looking them over in admiration before he suddenly stopped. [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Feeling the presence of… Someone. His gaze traced away from the beautiful fighters and found the robed figure of a man, not much shorter than himself, standing with his back turned to him only five to six meters away from him. [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Senji’s eyes locked onto him, his mouth dry as he dared not say a word, a hand slowly going to lift his decorated durasteel mask away from his face, his obsidian in color hair springing a bit back in place as it was now released from its grasp… This was the man.. He was certain of it.[/SIZE]

{ [member="The Dark Man"] | [member="Jaani Doosun"] | [member="Kaigann Fossk"] | [member="Kelios Shara-da"] }​

 

[DARKCOM]

The hum of the J-1 Starfighter was like music to Kaigann's ears, the warming engine coils vibrated beneath his feet as he worked on it's calibrations with a skilled Ession engineer. He sat inside the cockpit staring at the glass as the engineer directed him, with a thumbs up he shut down the engines and rose from his seated position. Climbing out of the starfighter he landed onto his feet in front of the hard at work mechanic, they were doing a routine maintenance check on the ship. Adjusting calibrations, replacing bad couplings, and all in all ensuring the beautiful piece of art was still fly worthy after the battle for Ession.

"I'll need a few more hours, the thing has a churp I can't get rid of." He nodded to acknowledge the man as he took another glance back up at his starship, "It's alright, I've made arrangements for it to be stored here until my return. I'll be gone for quite a while, plenty of time to tinker with it until I come back." The human male performing maintenance sighed, "Outstanding, I tell you I haven't worked on one of these since I left the Republic. I'll have her running smoothly by the time you return from your journey." Kaigann smiled at the sound of his words, "Perfect, well I better get going, I have to meet in Hangar B shortly. Try not to tear apart my ship." The mechanic chuckled in reply, "No promises, Kaigann. May the Force be with you." The words shocked the padawan but gave him a moment of joy, "You too."

Striding off from the smaller hangar he moved into the deeper levels of the station, he was cutting it close as usual by tinkering with his ship but what was a better way to pass the time? He had been on the station for a few hours and for once was early, too early in fact so he figured he'd make sure his starfighter was still in good working condition. Passing by several peacekeepers he was well greeted as a member of the New Jedi Order, he responded with several nods to passersby. Arriving at the turbolift to Hangar B he stepped onto the platform as it began to rise upward toward his new mission among new comrades. It was best not to keep them waiting.

Strrrph! The platform halted at it's destination, in plain sight was the many X-Wings being serviced as pilots and workers moved at a frantic pace. Stepping off of the platform he followed a lone astromech droid as it led the way towards the Dark Man, a Jedi ally who had aided in the War on Ession, he had never met him in person but had heard of him through the grapevine down on Ession. He was earlier than he had anticipated as many had yet to arrive save one lone Jedi. Kaigann arrived near the duo and introduced himself, "Kaigann Fossk, a pleasure to meet you both."

[member="The Dark Man"] / [member="Senji Selah"] / [member="Jaani Doosun"] / [member="Kelios Shara-da"]​

 

[Kelios Shara-da]

Waiting was an art in all reality. It is was aspect of life that many let slip amongst the many facets that surround all living beings in the current time. It was one of Kelios' desires, however, to master the time honored rites of waiting as jokingly as that may have sounded. The Horansi sat in a traditional mediation pose. He allowed the Force, in its all consuming currents, to was over his mind like a current. It was calming yet enlightening all at once as its light poured through him. There was darkness, too, however. It dodged around him like tendrils seeking entry into minds to fester in. It stunk of malice, pain, disease, hatred, and things unnatural. It was tempting to peer further into the glisping shadows, yet, he looked towards the light and its wholesome embrace as he sat within the confines of his own mind. Minutes felt like hours, seconds like minutes, and time ceased to halt as he lost himself in the intricate webways of the Force.

His thoughts slowly tightened though. He began to think of his up coming journey and the perils they may have faced. Graxin had suggested he attend this gathering at the behest of a friend apparently, and his own Padawan was already aboard. He had reluctantly agreed as the man pressed him. It was hard leaving old friends again, harder than he figured it would be. Yet, it had been deemed important as well. So, he would soon bear the title of Quest Knight it seemed.

His golden eyes opened wide as the shuttle he was aboard fettered into the hanger from Ession. He was alone in its moderately sized passenger chamber as the hissing of pressurized vents called to him to stand and exit. Kelios had to duck under the vestibule of the landing ramp. His 12 foot tall stature preventing him from an easy exit as he took his first step aboard the ship that would be his home for the next several months. He searched the hanger with curious eyes as he stepped foot onto it. Relic Starfighters stood vigil in the large, metallic space and engineer's busiled about their work; some pausing to marvel at the massive anthropomorphic animal that just stepped into their domain. His claws clattering against the flooring as he strode deeper into the hanger to find those who awaited him.

The Dark Man / Senji Selah / Jaani Doosun / Kelios Shara-da

 

[Azula Tindara]

The Gungan warrior sat quietly in a corner of the hangar. Several days of a crash course in piloting the X-Wing had left him drained. Hour after hour of memorising controls and learning to keep the things under control in a simulator. Piloting had never been his strong point, even though his Gungan ship had been his home for months. Spending time training as a pilot would have taken time away from honing his other skills. Coupled with his tentative grasp of written basic, which was at the level of a child, it had been hard work. Fortunately the little domed astromech droids were capable of taking verbal commands and automating many of the functions. Unfortunately they communicated back in a serious of beeps and whistles that the X-Wing had to translate into text. Text he had trouble reading. No one had found a aurebesh to gungan glyph translation package compatible with the operating system of an X-wing yet.

Jaani stretched out his shoulders, seeing several of the team arriving. He wore a simple leather jerkin, sleeveless as was common in gungan fashion. He hadn’t strayed from the fashion, he took great pride in displaying his heavily muscled and scarred arms. They showed what he did, and what he had been through.

He got to his feet. On the ground next to him was a heavy leather bag. The same bag he’d been carrying for months with most of his possessions. His Spirit Talisman sat at the top of his bag, lovingly wrapped in soft furs. Having been looked over by several experts at the Temple it had turned out it truly was an artefact, crafted from the bones of a Sithspawn, which allowed him to focus his abilities. In his case it seemed to help him seek out Sithspawn and artefacts, which had proven useful in his line of work. His Kresch had been the most important possession since leaving Naboo. The Gungans had become increasingly isolated during the dark times, but the creature had been loaded with the sum total of their knowledge of the outside Galaxy.

It seemed it was nearly time for this “quest” to start. Jaani had only been in the Temple a few weeks now. They had been harsh weeks of physical torture and staining his faculties to grasp his control of the Force. It turned out that when he pushed his body to the limits, he had already been calling on the Force to aide him. So it had seemed to most appropriate way to expand his control was to start from ways of accessing the Force he already understood. The Gungan was still a long way from really developing his understanding. He couldn’t consciously stretch out his senses to feel the world around him and so far he had utterly failed to utilise any telekinetic abilities. Augmenting his physical prowess seemed to come naturally to him.

Jaani didn’t ogle at the feline that stepped out of the arriving transport. Afterall, he frequently hunted with a massive Togorian. This beast had a good few feet even on Mrrew though, impressive. Jaani was a somewhat simple creature. He was no deep thinker, his physical prowess far surpassed his intellect. On Naboo he had been one of the largest and strongest Warriors, which afforded him great respect and a position of command. And so without hesitation he made a bee-line for the largest creature in the room to offer a greeting and a handshake.





OOC/ quick intro post, apologies for the poor quality. Could we all just agree to follow the topic and avoid having to tag each post please?

 

[The Dark Man]

The Dark Man felt a familiar presence. He had always known this man, observing silently. He would strum his fingers through the cords of the Force that reached throughout the galaxy, and he felt his sons presence. Always. He never spoke to him, nor attempted to reach out to him. Each had their own destiny, and The Dark Man's was an estranged one. It was not uncommon for those who believed in the Potentium or the Unifying Force to believe in destinies and fate, unalike the vast majority of force-sensitives who followed the Living Force. They thought his ideals blasphemous, and for this, he would always remain the black sheep. The presence grew stronger, stronger than he had ever felt since he first left him with the Order. He didn't turn to face him, he simply spoke, "Keep your mask, I still wear mine."

He turned, and he wondered if his son would remember a different man, a younger man. The man who had abandoned him. He was one, and while he understood that humans began to develop memories at the age of three and up, he was still curious what would register within his sons mind at his image. He was worn and torn, weathered by time and trial. His black cloak was tattered, draping from his shoulders like a ripped curtain. Dark spectacles that were cracked around the rim sat on his face, and his hand rested formally on the hilt of his lightsaber at his waist. It had an electrum detail with a wintrium frame. It was near-impervious, and he had received it from a dear friend. "I am glad you chose to come, son." The Dark Man turned briefly and squatted next to an R5 unit, with an amethyst trim coating. He ran his hand over its surface and glanced back to Senji, "He's yours on this trip. Perhaps he'll serve you better company than I ever did. His name is Forty." He flashed a smile, and hoped there were no hard feelings between them. If there was still tension, he was ready to discuss their situation, here and now.

 

[Senji Selah]

| Senji Selah |

[SIZE=9pt]S[/SIZE]enji fiddled with his mask, flustered, yet only for a fraction of a second. His eyes closed as he felt the intimate security of the cold durasteel mask once more, abiding his father’s request to put the mask back on. He felt his storm of emotions in his being subdue as the guise that followed the mask embraced him, reducing the storm to a mere wind that flowed through his veins, but one that could brew up at any given moment. The mask helped him keep himself in check, in many ways. [SIZE=9pt]Some deep part in him recognized the voice that came from the man in front of him as he spoke his first words with back turned to Senji. In a long forgotten dream. In a long forgotten nightmare, the voice may have sounded. The turmoil that had swept around him and rushed through his veins just a second ago had been a mixture of both happiness and anger, but most importantly: Confusion. The answer Senji thought he needed the most was the reason for being left alone, however grand it would be. An answer that could justify his dismissal from the Selah family. If there even was one.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]There had been certain advantages to being a part of the librarians on Ossus; he had direct access to the Jedi archives, at least to some extent. At times when he had felt down the most, Senji had looked up his last name and found others in his age span with the same name, though no first names were mentioned he deep in his core knew that those people were his siblings. The only name he did know of was that of his father: Ekul. However, Senji suspected it was a long forgotten name, now his father went by no name to his understanding, having taken the title The Dark Man to encompass his attunement to the force, show humility and his eternal service. This was where Senji had gotten the idea for his mask, from his father’s philosophy, even though that philosophy was only vaguely mentioned in the records. Most of what Senji believed was in some way made up from that, the rest being half guesses and assumptions. In addition, the mask had of course proven a valuable tool to distance himself from it all, from the past he never knew of as well. The irony was somewhat amusing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]As Ekul turned to both reveal himself and take a look at Senji a new wave of emotions swept over him, thousands expressions unseen behind his mask: surprise, delight, relief, sorrow, irritation, bewilderment… Yet it was all restrained in the matter of a single second, Senji’s back straightening, his attitude turning formal and disciplined. Values he guessed his father respected. [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]The image of the man that now stood before his eyes flickered, flashed out of existence for the smallest of moments, a younger version of his father suddenly seen from beneath him, a perspective that did not match that of the before reality. His father’s appearance shared similarities with that of the now Senjis. Senji himself felt the sensation of warmth from the thick cloth he was draped in and somewhere above the chin and face of his father Adega Prime and Adega Besh was spotted as Senji carried in his fathers arms hastily walked up the steps leading to the Jedi Temples entrance. The two suns of Ossus flickered, no, the image flickered as if it had only been a dream.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Senji stood in the hangar once more, the briefer than that of a millisecond vision already vaporizing in the back of his mind. Senji looked over the man from behind the comfort of his mask, surely it he would look the same once he reached that age, almost a reflection of himself. As his father started to talk once more Senji remained quiet, his urge to leap forward and embrace the man held back by the clear authority he showed. He nodded silently as Forty chirped in excitement and slowly rolled towards Senji to stand a bit closer to him. Yet all Senji could utter once his father was done talking was a questioning, formal yet silent: “Why?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]He glanced away briefly afterwards, spotting the rest of the ‘hired crew’ walking towards them.[/SIZE]

 

[The Dark Man]

The Dark Man had heard the words, and they still rung in his mind. Why. A thousand different reasons, a million different answers. He followed his sons gaze towards Kaigann, "A pleasure to meet you, padawan." He motioned towards a P2-series astromech unit. "He'll be yours for the duration of this trip, however long that may be. If you decide to keep him, that is fine. He calls himself Pal, but he isn't much of one. Has a bit of an attitude problem, might need to rewire him." The purple astromech spun his head and beeped in protest. The Dark Man began to move towards the nearest X-wing, standing closely to his son and murmuring, "We'll discuss why, later." Approaching one of the various ancient star crafts, he explained, "They're old, but they're sturdy, reliable and cheap. They'll serve you well on this voyage, and it won't cost you a dime if it gets damaged, unalike if you brought your own vessels."
​

 

[Senji Selah]

Senji nodded silently though strenly as his Father cut him off, who wished not to answer his question. Instead of arguing Senji glanced down towards the droid he had been given, inspecting it for a second before taking a step back, turning to look towards the rest of the group that still rather silently approached them.

Even from this distance it was obvious who and who didn't belong here and they still didn't knew, or well. He didn't know why he was called here.

 

[Kelios Shara-da]

(Sorry for the severe delay, family matters had come up once more.)

Kelios was rather surprised as a Gungan of all beings in the Galaxy was the first to approach him. His broad muzzle whiffed deep droughts of air into its sensitive chambers in preemptive instinct. His golden eyes observed the smaller creature for a minute before the hand was offered and then promptly taken and shaken. "Kelios Shara-da. It is rather odd to see a native of Naboo so far into the void." His voice was like bottled thunder. Its baritone deep and grinding as it echoed forth from his massive lungs, yet, it was oddly peaceful and friendly at odds with the muscle and sheer size of his predatory body.

He then continued his approach to the man who had called him with a long gait, waiting for the Gungan however if the water-born was to slow or fall behind.