[recoveringgeek]

"I'm telling you, I saw it happen! The old man walked on the barge, started pointing and yelling at everyone, kicked off these amazingly beautiful Twi'leks, and some purebloods too, and then he starts brawling with his security!"

"Ease off the spice, the old man is all gas, no blaster."

"I'd rather get punched by a Gamorrean than get in between those two. They fought, I'm telling you. I saw him when he walked off the barge, he looked like he took a swim in a garbage compactor."

"Hopefully it improved his looks then... "

[Alumar]

[IC Public Notice Broadcast, as well as posted notice just outside the Dancer's Retreat Barge]

*tagline across screen: "This message brought to you by Dawn Star Shipping Coalition"*

Hello good customers. We understand there was a slight incident this past week involving one of our staff being belligerent and chasing people off our premises whom had not broken our club rules of no violence on the barge. And are additionally aware this same staff member also proceeded to enact violence himself on the barge shortly there-after, against our very strict policy.

We would like to make it publicly known, that this staff member has been hereby banned from the barge premises until further notice for these infringements. We will not stand for this blatant disregard of our fine customer's comfort and enjoyment of our facilities, nor will we permit ANY exemption to our cardinal rule.

Again- Anyone found to commit violence on the barge is subject to security protocol, disarmament and temporary ban. Employees found guilty of violence are no exception, and risk additional reprimand and disciplinary measures, no matter who they are.

We hope to see you all back this Friday now this small issue is handled, and will gladly additionally offer you a free table chit if you can produce a receipt from this past Friday night, in recompense for this unfortunate inconvenience and incident.

Sincerely,
Management

[Orell]

Overheard in Barracks 12 on Carrick Station

"You hear about Captain Orell?"

"What, he lost another soldier?"

"...that's just cold, man."

"Sorry. What happened?"

"Buddy on guard duty on Cor said he had a big throwdown with the general."

"You're shitting me."

"Honest! Has something to do with Brightstar making Captain, heard he'll be running Patchwork from now on."

"Damn, no wonder he was pissed."

"Yeah. My buddy said he might've taking a swing at the general."

"No shit."

"Nah. He came out with both arms and all, she'd have torn 'em off if he threw a punch."

"Damn right. You know what it was for?"

"Way I heard it? The Cap broke one of the three cardinal rules of soldierin'."

"Yeah, which ones are those? I think you've got a few hundred of those."

"The big three, dumbass. Never be first, never be last, and never, ever volunteer."

[Alumar]

Talk amongst servants on Alderaan-

"Have you heard about the Beilen girl and her appeal to House Organa on behalf that lost Baron?"

"Yes yes, moreover I've seen the pair together at her house's regular family dinner. What a lovely couple!"

"Who would have thought that wild red haired child would grow to court a proper Baron?"

"You should have heard Lord and Lady Beilen grill him for his intentions!"

"I've heard rumors she helped save him when his house was burned to the ground by the Rist. What a classic romantic tale! A young wild Lady risking her life for the love of a young Baron in exile."

"Just think, by this time next year we could be in service to that same Baron, and our little Aralisa could be a Baroness!"

"He'll have to get his lands back first, House Organa can't support his claim without that you know."

"Oh tut tut, that young man Wymarc is sharp, he'll do it if can be done."

"Lets hope, for the Lady's sake. It would be ever so nice to see her settle down after all her galabanting."

"Pfft, like that will ever happen with that girl."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fluff byline in Alderaanian press the next day:

Rumors are mounting of a surviving member of house Wymarc taking shelter with the aid and word of the heiress of house Beilen with the Organas. A ploy by house Beilen for a barony through marriage? Or a romantic tale of love amidst war and rivalries? You decide!

[Sciran]

A song heard randomly on musical listening stations, and sliced into random locales that have wired intercoms midst Republic Space:

In the Core Worlds and the Outer Rim
There's a growing notion that our future's grim
Conditioned to respond to all the myths
That there's no way to reason with zealous Sith

Darth Malgus said we will bury you
I don't subscribe to this point of view
It would be such an ignorant thing to do
If the Empire loves their children too

How can I save my little boy
From Grand Moff Kilran's deadly toys
There is no monopoly in common sense
On either side of the political fence

We share the same cosmology
Regardless of ideology
Believe me when I say to you
I hope the Empire loves their children too

There is no historical indecency
That puts the blame on the senate for the Treaty
There's no such thing as a winnable war
It's a lie that we don't believe anymore

The Jedi say we will protect you
I don't subscribe to this point of view
Believe me when I say to you
I hope the Empire loves their children too

We share the same cosmology
Regardless of ideology
What might save us, me, and you
Is that the Empire loves their children too

[Xiaoli]

*Scene at The Busted Blaster cantina.*

A married couple was sitting at the bar, a middle aged Twi'lek woman and her mate, a slightly younger female human. They were enjoying a 2nd round of celebration drinks as very rowdy female Rodian comes crashing into, bleeding all over the doorway.

"Monster, filthy monsters are taking over Kwenn! Ahhhhh, I'm bleeding, it tried to kill me!"

The Twi'lek female glanced over her shoulder at the Rodian letting out a discouraged sigh as she pulled her wife close.  "Why did I let you convince me to have our honeymoon on this damn planet? Couldn't we have just gone to Nar Shaddaa? You know how I love to gamble and with the winnings, I could have gotten you something real nice...and sparkly.. you always like sparkly.."

The Human female bit her lower lip as she wasn't expecting a grisly scene in the middle of her honeymoon. She furrowed her brow at the Rodian and slammed her drink down despite the comforting her mate was offering. "Pipe down, you ranting bastard... Can't you see people trying to enjoy their drinks.. and you come in here bleeding all over the place. What do you expect to happen? Round up a lynch mob?

The Rodian hobbled over, gripping her arm to slow the bleeding as another patron was kind enough to approach her and attempt to provide first aid. The Rodian was still frantic as she pointed towards the human female. "She was ust like you.. but more... much more savage... ! There's a half naked savage human making camp behind my crafts stall! I can't run a business with that craziness going on! I went to tell her to move on and she cut me! Who sleeps in a tent at the market place anyway!?"

The human female rolled her eyes at the pointing finger of the Rodian before turning back towards her lover. "You're right.. we should have went to Nar Shaddaa.. "

[Iznora]

A human woman leans over to her Zabrak friend as she looks cautiously around the Imperial Fleet center cantina, recognizing that only a few other people are meandering around near them- no one that would seem to cause trouble.

"Did you hear about what happened here last night?" The woman asks her friend, leaning close so that her face is close to his tattooed one. The man rose an eyebrow, taking a slurping sip of his almost finished Frozen Orgasm with a slight shake of his head.

"Well, I heard this Twi'lek woman, tried to get dragged off by some bounty hunting robot and his female Chiss friend." She whispered, her eyes widened with the gossip of the story. The man shrugged, looking unamused.

"So what? The Twi'lek probably had a bounty on her for being a runaway slave. You know how those type are." he said flatly, going back to sucking down the last of his drink.

"Maybe," The human woman allowed, "But I heard the girl was up for a 1,000,000 credit bounty. I can't think of any dancer that would be worth that much." The Zabrak almost spit out his drink, looking to the woman.

"A million? Are you sure you have that right?" The woman nodded dramatically. "What stopped the Bounty Droid and the Chiss from getting her, then? Most dancers can't fight.."

The female woman grinned at this part, exposing all of her teeth, "Supposedly a little gang called the Cantina Snatch Rats rolled in and defended the Twi'lek girl. I think a few Sith were involved.." This time the Zabrak did choke on his drink, coughing wildly he looked at the woman in disbelief.

"The..what? You have to be kriffin' me." She shook her head viciously.

"No, it happened. The Chiss girl said she was from some Syndicate...Kriff knows which... and told the Twi'lek bounty that she'd come for her when she had less friends." The woman shrugged, "I don't know, but someone must have had a slick tongue to slide out of there without any spilled blood for that many credits."

The Zabrak pondered that for a moment, scoffing loudly and pushing away from the bar.

"Where are you going?" The woman asked, peering at the man as he seemed to storm off.

"I'm going to go quit my job and become a bounty hunter." He called back to her, stalking away.

[Sciran]

An old, damaged, barely audible recording was found among the debris of an Alderaanian data center after a raid by one of the Houses claiming to be retaking their lost land. While most of the contents found in the rest of the center was classified, a particular fragment made its way into gossipy circulation with the soldiers... And from there, the holonet.

The recording starts up to static, then squelch as it comes to focus on a single male human voice. The voice sounds deep and gravely, breathing heavily before making a dark chuckle. Any video that might have accompanied the recording has long been destroyed.

"I was - am - the last of the heavy armor recon strikers. Heh. Ironic, really. This outer band of outposts was where we fundamentalists were gonna make our big stand. Where we were to say that if there weren't gonna be any more temples, no more Jedi or Republic... Then by God there wasn't gonna be any more Empire. Not on this rock."

The sounds of distant combat come over more clearly as the man narrating coughs in pain, then lets out yet another chuckle. Blaster fire and far off screams increase sharply in frequency before silencing out a moment later.

"Yeah... This was the last real fight on Alderaan, and I loved it."

A muffled explosion comes through and cuts off the beginning of the narrator's next sentence. It sounds clear that the recording was made in some sort of underground or clearly fortified bunker, with the battle taking place just on the other side of the battlements. A few moments of deep rumbling follow before he speaks up again - now panting slightly.

"I don't regret dying in it. I'm a warrior, a mercenary - even if an idealistic one. We don't lay down and die, crap out in a comfy yacht armchair with a gold digger wife and tick-like kids dripping all over us. Heh, no. We just fall out on the field. You hear this, you remember those who fight. All any of us care for."

Another closer explosion rocks the narrator and jars the recording, pained grunts and curses claiming several of the next few moments. The man on the recording breathes increasingly heavier.

"My name... Is Fenrir."

The sound of an opening being breached with force rings clear, and this time the shouts of battle are closer than ever. The narrator screams in return to his assailants before blaster fire and the hum of vibro-blades overwhelm the microphone. There is a final explosion, squelch and pained cries, then nothing. The recording ends.

[Calibis]

     Nar Shaddaa

     The Slippery Slopes Cantina

     Three monitors display a news feed for the patrons gathered at the front bar, squawking newscasters rambling on about an explosion on Nar Shaddaa. Not far away from the cantina itself, on the top of one of the City moon's tallest towers, the sprawling penthouse of the prominent Hutt Uttano had been left in burning shambles. The images of shattered glass and steel, smoke rising from the now gaping holes, and excitable onlookers recounting the happenings or listing off how many were counted among the dead, injured, and evacuated.
     Many of the cantina's faces were turned toward the ongoing story, expressions ranging from morose to horrified. A few of the patrons meet the knowing eyes of Morus-Lok, the bartender behind the counter, as they pass from friend to friend and back to the expose at hand. The barman shakes his head just slightly, sadly, and drops a red rose into a vase on the bar while the commotion on the news continues.
     Several other patrons look among themselves, hushed whispers spreading throughout the crowd. A few surprised comments of “I thought he was invincible” and “I can't believe he's gone” drift above the din of voices. Among them, Calibis Lorem'sica stands alone and swirls her glass of whiskey. She blinks a few times, clearing the look of shock off of her face and downs her drink before nodding once to her old friend. She sets the empty glass down and quietly turns to leave the Cantina.

     Alone.

[Aiden Baail]

Internal Memo
Jedi Temple To Republic Station Treading Water
Covert Level 3 Distress and Warning


A small group of Jedi Knights and Padawans were hospitalized after showing adverse effects from continued exposure to the MOTHER AI. One week after hospitalization, the men and women began to show signs of schizophrenia and psychotic episodes, requiring armed guards and hospital staff to calm and/or incapacitate.

Thirteen hours ago, the group of 9 escaped from the Hospital, killing 3 and injuring five. Security footage shows the group violently fighting against the minimal security on site, and audio logs indicate bizarre speech patterns and continued, repeating phrases from each Jedi:

Recording begins: Sentences artificially enhanced for clarity.



[D]ON'T THIN[k?]

[n]o no no no no no

can we act as though  none of th[is] happened, plea[d]se

Just calm down

[do?]n't think so... no no no no no no no no

Know the... [surpr?]ise

[?]delion through station's exterior Fo[?]

Years ago.

PLAN SAVE CHILDREN

Don't look don't look don't look don't look

Do No[t]
thi[nk?]

lur[e?]

Please Don['T]

Please tell me you saw tha[t]

[CHIL]DREN Made me what I am

stop

let me

think you'll see that I am far more sane than

Let's all take a look at what is happe[ning]


forgive my temper

Call me crazy, but I thin[k] it's time for us to d[ie]

UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD HAVE THEM DEST[ROY?]

LOOK AT ME  and TELL ME i'm not CRAZY




Each person hospitalized were using neural cybernetics, which we believe is linked to the reasoning for this behavior. As you can imagine, this situation becoming public could prove quite volitale to the already fragile image of our Order. I humbly request sending a division of Republic affiliated personal to track these rogue Jedi, who were last seen taking a stolen freighter with prelogged hyperspace paths to Hoth, Tantooine, and Makeb.
 
----------
Jedi Master Malen

 

[Aiden Baail]

APB:
KORRIBAN
KORRIBAN SECURITY TO:
KIA
IMPERIAL INTELLIGENCE
DARTH  VENECA
FIFTH FLEET

KIA AGENTS (0839) AND (1827) ARE WANTED FOR THE MURDER OF ACOLYTES RIF GRAST, ERO NETK, AND CASSANDRA RES, SUSPECTS ARE CONSIDERED WELL ARMED, EXTREMELY DANGEROUS, AND AT LARGE. CURRENTLY BELIEVED TO OF LEFT IMPERIAL SPACE AFTER MURDER ON KORRIBAN.

[Calibis]

     A handful of men sat conversing at the Slippery Slopes in hushed tones.

     "His ship is going up for auction too.  I wouldn't mind getting my hands on
that.  They say it was near perfect condition, you know.  Flew like a dream."
     One of them men shook his head.
     "Not any more, it ain't."  The others looked at him incredulously.  "She took
it off the books today.  Said she'd gotten an offer she couldn't refuse."
     "Awe kriff, what does that mean?"
     The collection of gossipers fall silent as Morus-lok drops a white rose into
the once empty vase.  He looks around the room, and nods once at the small group. 
     They look at each other in amazement.
     "No!"
     "It can't be!"
     "He's back?"
     "But he's dead! I was at the funeral!"
     "Maybe there's a new one."
     "Big shoes to fill."
     "You mean coat?"
     There is laughter all around and the men go back to their drinks, just a bit
more light-hearted than before.

[Cordae]

“If you were to gather half of Corq’s inhabitants into a room and ask them where to go for to have a drink, each one would send you straight to Balq’s Ferry on the right bank of the Cain near the Westgate.

After fording the river with the help of Ferryman Balq, you would soon discover two things: the mighty ol’ lady called the Marching Stormer and the other half of the town.”
 - Bullyn Lee, proprietor of the Marching Stormer.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

In the year of the Saint forty hundred and six
We set sail from the coal quay of Varq.
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall of New Corq.
We had an elegant craft;
She was rigged fore and aft
And oh, how the wild winds drove her.
She had forty-seven masts
And withstood several blasts
And they called her the Marching Stormer.

There was Barney A’Fvie
From the banks of the Sqee,
There was Hogan from County Parkone.
The was Johnny M’Gurk
Who was scared stiff of work
And a chap from Ly’vyrn calld Malone.
There was Samson O’Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Stacie from Storver
And your man Mick M’Gann
From the banks of the Vfann
Was the skipper of the Marching Stormer.

We had five millions bags of the best Pasker rags,
We had six million barrels of stones,
We had seven million bales of old armored bears' tails,
We had eight million barrels of ploins,
We had nine million hogs,
Ten million dogs,
Eleven million barrels of porter,
We had twelves million sides of old blind horses' hides
In the hold of the Marching Stormer.

We had sailed eighteen years
When the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog
And the whole of the crew
Was reduced down to two;
The first mate and the captain's old dog.
Well, the ship struck a rock -
Oh, what a shock!
The boat, she turned right over.
She turned nine times around
And the poor first mate was drowned!
I'm the last of the Marching Stormer!

[Aylaa]

The Nobody Inn lurks in the lower, less fashionable levels of Kaas city. It hosts the working class stiffs who support the Empire in various ways; guards, menials, janitors, construction workers, star port staff and others can be found in the dark corners and alcoves of the cantina. It has it's share of regulars and most people who come into the cantina just want to get a quick drink before heading home, or work, or wherever. Twice a month there is a gathering of individuals, mostly human, but with the occasional sprinkling of some alien or other. They're dangerous looking men, often with scars, implants and broken noses that tell of a life of hard work, and often harder punishments. They get the table in the back and no one gives them any trouble about it. The bartender gives 'em a nod and has the first round ready and waiting for them.

The group is seated at their table. Each hunched to a varying degree over their beer, waiting for the last couple seats to be filled. The door opens and two men walks in with the heavy gait of tired workers. Their mood picks up as they make their way back to the table and the two remaining seats. One man is a leaf-green twi'lek bearing the scars and markings of an ex-slave. The human beside him has different marks in different places signifying the same thing. They carry small bags and the human sets his on the table as he drops heavily into his seat. The twi'lek stops at the counter to flirt with the bartender.

"Kriff, what a week," the human says, reaching for his beer and taking a long pull

"That bad, eh?" another human, one with red hair, asks. His bag is hung over the back of his chair.

The human ex-slave sets his glass down with a thud and a sigh. "Kriff. Yes," he reiterates. "Damn fine mess. Nearly got my head blown off by some bloody wankers who don't have the good sense to kriffing stand down when a bloody Sith Lord tells 'em to."

"Sounds.... interesting." Red says.

"Bloody mess. An' I mean that literally."

"Yours?" a darker skinned human asks, looking up from rummaging around in her bag.

"Doing the yelling, not the killing. Not this time at least," he says, rolling a huge shoulder in a shrug. "Some bloody holo-soap mess. Didn't catch the whole of it. Don't think the bosses would 'ppreciate me flapping my lips 'bout it anyway."

"Probably not," the redhead says, and the others nod in agreement.

"Now don't get me wrong, the old man's a damn fine boss to have if you're gonna work for a Sith, and I wouldn't mind having the credits he's got, but am I glad I don't have to deal with the rest of that lot. If that's the price, I think I'm jus' fine down here with you gents. And lady." He lifts his glass of beer at the woman seated across the table from him.

The sole female in the group smirks at him and waves at the Twi'lek still trying to charm the lekku off the bartender. "Oy!"

The Twi'lek blows a kiss at the Bartender as she sends him on his way with the second round. He sits in the final seat and grins at the others present.

"Telling them about the bust up at the wedding party?"

"Not in so many words no," his human companion tells him with a look. "An if you wanna continue workin' for Necare, I'd say keep your yap shut or you might find yourself dead like that poor sod this weekend."

The twi'lek opens his mouth then closes it, nodding. His serious expression turns jovial once more. "Right. Shall we begin?"

The group of thuggish workers and guards nod and open their bags, pulling out their knitting.

"Anyone seen that Rhakghoul Plague movie they made?" the redhead asks.

"Not yet. Any good?"

"I heard the story was shite but the effects were good..."

[Lolermelon]

A small crowd has gathered near a holoterminal on Nar Shaddaa. They appear to be watching whatever action is unfolding with more than a small interest.  One of the locals, in a barely comprehensible drunken slur, begins to speak excitedly. "AhyeshIloveitwhentheSithsh... the Sithsh... them with the Lightning Handsh... get shent packin' with their tailsh between their legsh."

The scene unfolding on the Holoterminal is one that takes place on Dromund Kaas. Two heavily armored combatants go toe-to-toe, one clad in the beskar'gam of a Mandalorian, and the other in the dark, subdued tones usually denoting Sith.

The Mandalorian speaks, tauntingly, to the Sith, although it appears to be underlaid with action-holo soundtrack. As the scene continues, the two exchange increasingly severe blows. By the end of the conflict, the two combatants are battered and bruised, a small dent in the Mandalorian's armor as he is slammed with near-lethal force into some of the Dromund Kaas architecture. The conflict takes a dramatic however, when the Sith loses his weapon to a well-placed attack from the Mandalorian. A frantic force push sent out at the Mandalorian, and the Sith leaps through the air towards him. Several blaster bolts collide with the Sith as he flies through the air, and he hits the ground with a _thud_.
 As the music playing over top of the scene comes to a crescendo, the image fades to black, and is replaced with a smiling Sith face, easily recognizable as that of Darth Taelios.

"If you enjoyed this show, feel free to show your appreciation. Taelios Broadcasting Services can only stay online with the support of viewers like you. So... either give it, or I'll come and take it from you." The deposit information for a Cartel Bank Account flashes on screen for a short moment, before the broadcast finishes. The crowd disperses shortly thereafter, and as they depart, a few of them begin to throw punches at one another, mimicing the sounds of Force Lightning and missiles being launched.