Welcome Guest. Please Login or Register. Dec 23, 2009, 11:04pm
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I know it's not December 1st, yet, or even the 3rd, but I got done much quicker than I thought I would. Vode An is now open to the public. To the ones I PMed: Hurry up and reply so I know where to put you.
Anyway, no more posts will be allowed on this forum. It's shut down. But I'll keep it here so members can look at it for reference while RPing.
Farewell!
www.vodean.proboards105.com
Joined: Mar 2006 Gender: Female Posts: 3,074 Karma: 100
Re: Tracyn's fics (UPDATE: Betrayal) « Reply #25 on Aug 8, 2006, 9:17pm »
Haven't updated in a while. Not even a RC fic. *grumps* Aw, well. OK, here goes my shot at a Comrade Jedi fanfic…
Special thanks to the Comrade Jedi crew for making me feel right at home. Five years after the Dark Nest This is the era of Luke Skywalker’s legacy: The Jedi Master has unified the order into a cohesive group of power Jedi Knights. But as the new era begins, planetary interests threaten to disrupt this time of relative peace, and Luke is plagued with visions of an approaching darkness. Evil is rising again—out of the best intensions—and it looks as if the legacy of the Skywalkers may have come into a full circle. Honor and duty will collide with friendship and blood ties as the Skywalker, Solo, and Gwa clans find themselves on opposing sides of an explosive conflict with potentially dangerous repercussions for both families, for the Jedi Order, and the entire Galaxy. When a mission to uncover and illegal missile factory on the planet of Adumar ends in a violent ambush—from which Jaden Gwa and her friends, Rylee and Ben Skywalker, narrowly escape with their lives—it’s the most alarming evidence yet that sparks of political unrest that are threatening to ignite into total rebellion. The governments of numerous worlds are chafing under the strict regulations of the Galactic Alliance, and the diplomatic efforts to enforce compliance are failing. Fearing the worst, the Alliance readies a preemptive display of military might in hopes of bringing the rogue planets back in like before uprising starts. The designated target of this exercise: Corellia—renowned for the brash independence and renegade spirit that has made it’s favorite son, Han Solo, a legend. Something of a rogue himself, Jacen is nevertheless duty bound as a Jedi to stand with his uncle, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, on the side of the Galactic Alliance. But when wary Corellians launch a counterstrike, the Alliance’s show of force—and a secret mission to disable Corellia’s crucial Centerpoint Station—give way to an armed skirmish. Once the smoke clears, the battle lines are drawn. Now the specter of full-scale war looms between a growing cadre of defiant planets and the Galactic Alliance that some fear is becoming a new Empire. And even as both sides struggle to find a diplomatic solution, mysterious acts of treachery and sabotage threaten peace efforts at every turn Determined to root out those behind the mayhem, Jaden follows a trail of cryptic clues to a dark rendezvous with the most shocking revelations… while Luke grapples with something even more troubling: dream visions of a shadowy figure whose Force Power and ruthlessness remind him of Darth Vader—a lethal enemy who strikes like a dark spirit on a mission of doom. An agent of evil who—if Luke’s visions come to pass—will bring untold pain to the Jedi Master… and the entire galaxy.
CHAPTER ONE Adumar – Baywitch Factory - Midday Jaden could smell it before the Turbolift stopped, and the grey doors opened. It was the smell of missiles. The Baywitch Factory on Agumar used to be a missile lubricating facility. The smell of hard labor was in the air. She could almost imagine the assembly lines. Next to her, twenty-three-year-old Rylee wrinkled her nose in disgust. Ben winced. Jaden kept her face composed. Trying to keep an aura of intimidation, she walked to the observation platform quickly enough so her cloak swept behind her, and her boots made a sound on the metal floor. She wanted to make them think she was the boss, that she was in control.
And she was.
She watched the workers with an attentive eye, her hands on the rails. Their guide, a slender, balding man with the most… unusual form of dressing, walked up next to her, along with Rylee and Ben. The man’s name was Testan ke Harran. He had the shiniest of beards, and a robe the color of neon orange. And the robe was decorated with purple stripes everywhere, and he had a golden silk scarf.
Very appalling, thought Jaden. She heard Shalin’s constant reminder in her head: Show no fear. Show no emotion. That’s what ticks ‘em off. Try it on Arden. She has the best reaction.
Jaden’s mother, Shalin, had been dead for thirteen standard years, now. When Jaden was sixteen. Shalin had given her life to save her world and it’s people from the Yuuzhan Vong. Jaden had cried for days. Her brother, Jaing, locked himself in his room, only coming out when he had to eat and do other things.
Jaden had gotten over her depression by thinking about how happy her mother was, and that she wouldn’t want them grieving over her. Just because she wasn’t there anymore didn’t mean that she wouldn’t stop watching over them. She loved them. She loved them all. She hated to see them cry.
Like their mother, Jaden and Jaing were both Mandalorian to the bone. But they had unbelievable Force Power, more powerful than their mother’s, even challenging Vader’s. Their mother was a descendant of Aala Rand, the adopted daughter of Cerah and Atton Rand. Aala had married Canderous Ordo’s child later in life. And the line had continued, and then Shalin had sprung up. When she was scheduled for a meeting with the Council to determine if she was Force-Sensitive, raiders slaughtered her parents, and Shalin lived in an orphanage until she was thirteen. A man, a policeman, had adopted her. After he dies a year later in a speeder accident, Shalin joined the Police Force and the Jedi.
Jaden and Jaing’s father, Calvin Redgrave, was the descendant of Revan himself. He never acted like it though. Calvin was… socially impaired, as Jaden liked to put it when she was joking with him. Calvin had not been there for her and her brother for a long time. He had shown up from nowhere when they were both sixteen. Jaden got to hit him first.
“You can see,” said Testan. “Ar workers enjoy very fan conditions.”
“You can see,” translated Ben, “Our workers enjoy very fine conditions.”
Fine conditions my ass, thought Jaden. Ben and Rylee acted as her translators. It was ploy to give them the advantage. Jaden understood him perfectly, but it had taken some time to get used to the Adumarian accent. But she wanted to keep them off-balance. A good surprise attack is sometimes what wins the battle, Jade. Remember that. Shalin’s constant reminder echoed in her head. She almost smiled. Almost.
Jaden surveyed the operational plant. It was big enough to be a hanger. She watched as conveyor belts lined up, processing stuff she had no interest about. She squinted her eyes. The wrkers seemed nervous with her looking down on them. Good. She wanted to keep them nervous,
While she looked around from the observation platform, Ben was asking questions:, keeping him occupied. “Do you wax your beard?”
“I do not,” said Testan.
“It just seemed really shiny,” said Ben. “Do you oil it?”
Testan seemed to be getting slightly irritated. “I do not oil it. I condition it. And I brush it.”
“Do you brush it with butter?”
As Ben kept him occupied, Jaden and Rylee spoke in soft tones, under their breath. “They have something to hide,” said Rylee.
“Yeah,” said Jaden. “Something illegal, probably.”
“Spice?” wondered Rylee. “Slaves?”
“It feels more like a… I dunno,” said Jaden.
Jaden looked at Ben, and gave him a message with her eyes. Ben’s tone shifted, and he looked back at Testan. “The Jedi Knight acknowledges that your factory meets the exact minimum required safety and comfort standards of a Galactic Alliance Military Contractor.”
Jaden nodded. Good, Ben.
“We are wal above minimum standards,” said Testan.
Rylee repeated Testan’s words to Jaden. Jaden shrugged.
Ben mad a motion with his arms, as if stretching. His cloak parted, revealing his lightsaber. Testan’s face went pale. He looked at Jaden, eyes bulging. Then he looked back at Ben. “Aren’t you too young to carry those?”
Ben shrugged. “It’s a practice saber.”
“Ah,” said Testan.
When Testen wasn’t looking, Rylee made a face at him, and Ben elbowed her in the stomach. She playfully slapped him on the head. Jaden glared at them as Testan kept talking, but couldn’t help grinning.
“Ar factory is built to highst specifications,” said Testan.
“You didn’t answer the rest of my questions,” said Rylee.
“Well…” The lunch bell saved Testan. It showed on his face. “Perhaps we continue this other day.”
I have better things to do than listen to you all day, di’kut. You’ll tell me what’s going on now, or I’ll find out my way. And my way’s painful. Jaden watched Testan with mild curiosity. “We would like to know now,” said Rylee. “Unless you want an accident to happen…”
Jaden didn’t glance at her, but touched her briefly through the Force. She, like all other Jedi, knew threats were strongly prohibited. But Jaden didn’t care much for the rules, anyway. “I’m surah you do,” said Testan.
“Yeah, we would like it right now,” said Ben.
“Your Master does not talk?”
Rylee repeated Testan’s words to Jaden, and Jaden raised her eyebrow. She put her hands on her hips and straightened. “I talk, di’kut,” she said, taking a step foreword. “How else will I be able to contact your family and tell them that you had interfered in JK business, and you are being held in a galactic prison?”
New fic. It's a twist of Ep. III. Big twist. Fun twist. j/k
Story Setting: Star Wars III Info: After Task Grandor made the most exciting discovery, the Galaxy is plunged into chaos. What should have remained buried has been found… And now it's being used. After the failed attempt of killing Chancellor Palpatine, Sidious grows impatient. He's planning, he's maneuvering… And now, he's got the perfect weapon. As Ob-Wan Kenobi is captured on a solo mission to apprehend Grievous, Anakin is troubled by disturbing visions of his Master dying… Will he be able to find Obi-Wan and stop his death WHILE destroying Sidious' new weapon? A weapon of so much power that could destroy the Republic in days?! Once again, Anakin is forced to choose.
“BEAUTIFUL, ISN’T IT?”
Task Grandor smiled at Grievous. “We found this just a few weeks ago, in fact. We wanted to be sure our hunch was right before we fixed it up.”
Nautolan were known for their vivid green skin and head tentacles. While Grandor’s skin was more vivid than most, dark patches of green darkened his face. Sunburn. Sweat perspired down his face. He kept grinning as he talked to Grievous. He wore a miner’s uniform, which made his skin color stand out even more. The armor was black, made especially for protection in the harsh mines and the heat.
Task Grandor was a foreman.
Grievous’ yellow lizard-like eyes stared back at him coldly. “I can be assured, then, that it is still in premium working condition?” He coughed. It was a droid cough, a scary cough. Grandor shrunk back in fear as he felt Grievous’ metal durasteel fingers clamp around his neck. They were cold, unfeeling. No small amount of warmth in them. He squealed in pain. “No Jedi can escape?”
“No, no, sir…” Grandor managed to wheeze. “Most— most everything works…” He dropped to his knees as Grievous released him. He coughed and massaged his throat.
All around Grandor and Grievous was just sand, grass, rocks, and trees. An ideal location for a vacation, Grandor had thought as he first set down his ship. Out beyond the Outer Rim, beyond Kamino, all the way into Unknown Space. Quiet, peaceful. That was until Grandor met the Rancor. Then he decided to be more careful.
Grandor had found many datapads on this world. Most didn’t work. He found one that did, however. As he went back to his ship to study it, he crossed many skeletons that looked to be… human. There were alien bones, also, though they were too exotic for Grandor to categorize.
As Grandor reviewed the datapad, he made the most wonderful discovery! It was a map of the entire island, along with specific markers for each place. It even had a ‘you are here’ sign! How lucky was he! He had scrolled down the multipal pages, until he found something that very much interested him. Something about a ‘last journey.’ That something needed to be discovered. That something hadn’t escaped destruction by the Republic. But what was it?
Grandor found that what he was looking at was a personel diary. It gave detailed information on planets the person had visited, like Mannan, for example. The last ending was very happy and dramatic. It said stuff like ‘I saw him again!’ ‘He found me!’ ‘Finally, this crazy adventure is over.’
Grandor reviewed the dates on the entries. These were over four-thousand years old! This was a piece of Galactic History! There was a picture in it. He recognized all the people. There was another, also. Two, actually. Any they really, really caught his attention.
Grandor had used what info he could gather from the datapad and finally found It. Clearly, the Corporate Alliance would pay for it. He had thought of giving the rare item to the Jedi, but he was leaning more to the Separatists, himself. They only fought for what they believed in, anyway. The Republic wanted to stop that. Grandor had contacted his crew immediately, and then the CIS. They just had to send Grievous, though, to check it out. Why couldn’t they send Rune Haako or someone else? Grandor constantly thought of that.
So, now, in front of Grandor and Grievous, was an eight-thousand-foot hole, made by the miners under Grandor’s command. A large hull of a ship or a huge vessel poked from the shadows. “What is this device capable of?” questioned Grievous, his cape billowing in the air like a giant sheet. Grandor almost smirked at the thought of Grievous wearing a tablecloth for a cape.
“This, sir,” said Grandor, slowly climbing to his feet, “is capable of hyperspace travel. It has weapons older than the Republic itself, but still very effective. It’s a factory, of sorts, sir. It has an unlimited supply. It’s shield radius is one-quarter of a parsec, a very big one, if I may.” Grandor was thrilled with the thought of trillions of credits. All his. Imagine what he could buy! “It was made long, long ago, before the creation of the Republic, by an ancient species. It was said they were so powerful, they knew the secret of the Force or whatever the kriffing Jedi believe in. They died out, afterward, as they turned on one another. But their baby still remains! Look at it, sir! Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It can keep the Life Force of twenty beings alive even if they are past death. It still has superb medical droids still active. And the repair droids still have not died, still patching this baby up through the thousands of years! This baby will make you the most powerful being in the Universe, sir.”
Another cough. Grievous walked to the edge of the deep pit. Sounds could be heard from below of the machines still digging. Grandor had the thought that Grievous walked like a chicken. But he said nothing out loud. “What was it called?” asked Grievous.
Joined: Mar 2006 Gender: Female Posts: 3,074 Karma: 100
Re: Tracyn's fics (UPDATE: Metal Tourniquet) « Reply #30 on Oct 18, 2006, 4:06pm »
Hmph! Of all the nerve! FF.net has blocked me out, too! Dammit.
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Joined: Mar 2006 Gender: Female Posts: 3,074 Karma: 100
Re: Tracyn's fics (UPDATE: Fighting Sticks) « Reply #31 on Nov 18, 2006, 11:25pm »
Fighting Sticks, Prolouge Jehuvva "Sticks" Glee is a war orphan. She and a group of freedom fighters sabotage Sith activities around the Galaxy. Now, fate has led her to Taris, where she'll meet up with Cerasi and Carth, two of the three survivors of the Endire Spire's crash.
.Prologue.
Ever since she was a kid, Jehuvva had been victim of the Sith. They entered her city, killing as they went. Jehuvva was one of the lucky ones. Unfortunately, her parents were killed. She was only eight years old. Jehuvva went on to master swordmanship, and decided to take on the Sith once and for all.
She went where her instincts told her to, sabotaging and planting lies in the soldiers’ heads. She was barely known by the Republic, however, and so she made up a group of freedom fighters. They are scattered over three worlds: Taris, Mannan, and Korriban.
Jehuvva and two freedom fighters, Kays and Sheeka, both travel to Taris, where Jehuvva mysteriously knows that’s where the Sith will be striking next. She makes herself a legend in the Dueling Ring, taking up on the nickname “Sticks.” Sticks in now sixteen, trapped on Taris, and fighting for her own destiny, with a little help along the way.
xXxXxXxXx
The apartment was bitterly cold and dark when the newly christened “Sticks” arrived from her errands. She’d been over at the Cantina, signing up for the Dueling Ring. She was hoping that her two companions were already asleep when she opened the door and stepped inside.
“So you’re back?”
Sticks didn’t turn, trying to keep the aura of authority as the voice she recognized at Kays’ came out of nowhere. He must’ve waited for her: it took her quite a while to file the emergency medical treatment files that Ajuur had given her. It was around 0100 o’clock. The Cantina stayed open 24/7 in case things happened like husbands getting thrown out by wives, ect,. It was quite amusing.
“Yeah,” she answered casually, dumping her backpack beside the door and locking it. “I would’ve thought the slimeball would just sign me up. Seems like he’s got government issues.”
“All Hutts have issues, Glee.” Kays liked to call her by her last name, said he thought it sounded cool. She could see his pale, long face in Taris’ two moons, his green eyes sparkling. “And besides, I wasn’t—“
“—Tired, yeah, I know, Kays,” she said, waving a hand. “Where’s Sheeka? Over nextdoor having fun with the neighbor?” She took her elbow and stretched her shoulder as she said this.
“You mean Zac? He’s a bit too old for her, don’t you think?” Kays asked mockingly. “He’s more into you, Glee.”
“Tusker poop,” she scoffed indignantly.
“It’s like he’s batting his eyelashes at you,” he said, leaning against the wall. “You know he’s too shy to make the first move. Hasn’t asked you on a date, yet…”
“You’re disgusting,” Sticks said, climbing to the top of her bunk-bed which she shared with Sheeka. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Kays walked to the opposite side of the room. “She’s nextdoor.”
xXxXxXxXx
Later, around seven-thirty AM, Sticks woke. Sheeka had arrived and mysteriously slipped back into her bunk during the night. During breakfast, Sticks let Kays tease her about her relationship with the neighbor as punishment. Later, Sticks had drafted the conversation away to Ajuur and the Dueling Ring.
“The slimeball’s scheduled a fight between me and Deadeye Duncan,” she explained. “Want’s fifty creds for every round. He’s making a special discount today.”
“How’d you make him do that, Jehuvva?” Sheeka asked curiously while nibbling a pta fruit.
“Because Duncan’s the worst fighter around. He’s been there the longest, though, but not longer than this other guy: Bendack Starkiller.” Sticks took a sip of her water. “Ajuur gave me a name, which you will now call me unless I tell you otherwise. Understood? No one shall know our true names, background, or occupation. The regular stuff. You hear me?”
They did. “So what’s you’re new name?” Kays asked. She told them.
“Fits perfectly,” said Sheeka.
“I know,” said Sticks. “And don’t worry. I think the Sith will be coming any time, now. I have a plan: When they come, their first objective will be the military base. Kays, you’re our most persuasive man: you get the job. Do whatever you can to get in. Once the Sith arrive, we’ll already have a seed just waiting to grow.”
“What about me?” Sheeka asked. The youngest of the group at fourteen, she was the best at putting her nose in places it shouldn’t belong and getting out safely again.
”You are going to be my informant,” Sticks said. “We’ve been here for four days, now, and you know the Lower City better than me and Kays. Go down there and make friends with the Beks. Make sure they trust you. After you do that, return to the Upper City Cantina.”
“Pretty free with the orders today, aren’t we?” Kays asked.
“We don’t have room for games. The Sith destroyed our homes, our families.” Sticks suppressed the memories that so desperately wanted to surface. “The only way to defeat the Sith is to destroy them. There’s not going to be mind games like we did on Cirrus. No sabotaging. It’ll be quick, and precise.”
She smiled, relaxing a bit. “We’ll strike a number of blows to this garrison until they’re off-balance. And then come down for the finale blow. The people of Taris won’t have to suffer like we had to.”
“But how do we even know that the Sith are coming?” Sheeka asked.
Sticks turned to the young girl. “The Endire Spire carries a passanger named Bastila Shan, a famed Jedi known for this magic called Battle Meditation. She’s important to the Republic war effort. If she dies, the Republic’s in ruins…”
“So the Sith will be after her?” asked Sheeka.
“The entire army is after her. Malak wants her as his pet, or else he’ll just kill her like all the rest. They’ll be here in two days.”
“How do you know all this, Sticks?” Kays asked, slipping into the ordered procedure of calling her by her fake name.
“An informant,” she said. “A big, slimy informant named Ajuur the Hutt.”
“Typical,” Kays muttered, sucking on a muja pit.
xXxXxXxXx
Sticks was at the Cantina when she head the explosions. She thought at first it was an earthquake. No one else seemed affected.
Because only she could hear it.
It was late at night, around 0300. Sticks had stayed that long to practice. Most of the people still there were passed out. But the bartender didn’t even hear the noises that made Stick’s head spin.
She walked out of the Cantina, both swords in hand. Her swords were a sharp metal, hooked at the ends. She could attach both blades together by a strong string (which she always did, never taking them off) and spin it to take out her opponent’s feet. The swords were her most prized possession.
The pounding in her head got louder as she looking up into the sky. At first, she thought it was a moon behind a cloud. But that was impossible, since the moon were in their lunar period and only one showed, which was to the opposite direction.
Trickles of white light reached over the clouds like lightning. Space battle, she thought. It was Sticks, not Ajuur, that was right after all. She had lied to her friends so they wouldn’t know the Secret. Though she should share everything with her gang, she didn’t. She was like that.
Nobody should know she was a Jedi.
Or was she a Sith? She could use the wrenched Force, for star’s sake. Her parents were proud. Called her their ‘Baby Jedi.’ She was going to be sent off for training, but the Sith stopped all of that.
She shook herself out of that horrible thought. It was too painful, even for the fearless leader of a rebel gang set on defending the Galaxy and killing Sith,
Space Battle.
From the looks of it, a ship was exploding. She cursed herself for not buying a comlink with the credits from Deadeye Duncan and Gerlon Two-Finger’s defeat. Kebla Yurt’s wouldn’t be open anytime soon.
She strode over to the transmitter, equivalent of a payphone in her own, low-tech world, and put in five creds. She jammed in her apartment’s signal and waited silently, watching the space battle overhead.
”Who’s there?” Sheeka’s voice. So relieving to hear.
“Sticks,” she answered. “Listen, I want you and Kays to go outside and look up.”
”What’s goin’ on, Sticks?”
“The Endire Spire has arrived and the Sith are here.”
A muffled shout of triumph. Sticks heard Sheeka’s voice babble on to Kays, repeating everything Sticks had said. ”Anything else?” Sheeka asked, upbeat.
“Yeah…” Sticks whispered. “I see an escape pod.”
All suddenly got quiet over the comm. ”An escape pod?” Sheeka said slowly.
”Point of impact?” inquired Kays.
“Next to Fire Fountain in the Eastern Part of the Upper City,” said Sticks, calculating. “They’re Republic: I can see the markings. Meet me there.”
She hung up and started at a run East. Both swords were held behind her as she ran like a trained athlete.
xXxXxXxXx
Carth Onasi was covered with sweat and blood. The young girl’s head rested on his lap, apparently unconscious after taking a serious blow while entering the atmosphere.
A red warning light shined brightly against the consol, and the capsule requested a series of manual operations, warning him in a calm female voice that ”explosive impacts have damaged the capsule’s automatic systems. Please do not worry, as the manual backup systems can perform perfectly well. Please perform the following function in the format requested.”
“Dammit!” Carth yelled.
His fingers flew over the controls, disengaging external shields, disengaging each of the primary source nodes and routing all their power to the secondary camber… He triggered the main repulser. Come on… he thought. No, too late. He triggered it too late.
He bent down in a protective crash position, trying to protect the young woman in his lap with his body as the ground came rising up to meet them.
A pilot wasn’t worried about crashing. A pilot was worried about the explosion that would happen afterwards. Usually an explosion happened unless the fuel tanks weren’t breached in any way. Carth hoped not. 35% of the deaths for the pilot’s these days was because they crashed and blew up upon impact.
He was worried. His gut twisted with the worry. The same worry he'd felt just a few minutes ago.
Three…
Carth struggled to think happy thoughts. His mother, all softness and light, or his father fat and round but always laughing. ”Son, the last thing I’ve ever wanted you to do was to join the military,” he had said. ”I may be against it, but I’m damned well proud of you, Carth.”
Two…
Carth adjusted his hold on Cerasi, holding her tight against his chest. He wouldn’t lose this brave woman. He needed help.
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