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Hyperspace


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Post Sun Jul 15, 2012 5:33 pm

Re: Hyperspace

*She heard the soft scuffle of his clawed feet as he passed by. Her eyes narrowed briefly, but she dismissed it as she pulled the Sith robes over her bare shoulders and secured the belt at her waist. She let her hair loose from its not at the nape of her neck, then tied it back from her face in a casual tail.

He called to her, and she exhaled with resignation. The more innocence the Vor injected into his tone, the less so it really was. And this time, Seleevan's voice had been dripping with nonchalance. She stepped out of her cabin and headed for the cargo hold.

As the Chiss entered the large space, her boots echoing on the metal grates that made up the catwalk leading down to the floor, she was tucking the voluminous sleeves of her robes back, as though to free up her hands. At the bottom of the steps, she laid eyes on her master, his shield to his left, and his polearm held at the ready.

She stilled, her stare hardening upon the winged reptile. Slowly, her hands lowered to her hips. The smirk was in her voice more than it was in her cool expression.*


"...How may I serve you?"
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Post Sun Jul 15, 2012 5:59 pm

Re: Hyperspace

"By stopping to be so glum."

*He replied, as he changed the Blasterhooks setting for stun. Not because he was planning on shooting her, although it was a possiblity. If they were going to do some training, he didnt want to acidentally rapture the hull in hyperspace or shoot something he shouldnt.*

"This is the Blasterhook. I designed it. It is a delicate weapon, but also forcefull and blunt. You can keep an enemy, especially a jedi at long range while still being able to hurt him, small stabs and slams like this."

*He Got down into a crouch, with the Towershield aimed towards a wall. He stabbed a couple times in thin air, and did a slashing attack to end the combo, and stopped in combat stence. Shield forwards, Blasterhook leveled horisontally, feet wide.*

"Most reguard it as a slow weapon, they just strike it to the side and step between its tip and its whielder, thinking they are out of its reach. They are not. You twist, and the backwards hooking blade is pointing at their back... then just thrust with the shield and pull with the polearm and they are stabbed in the back, while being attacked from the front."

*He showed it off too, thrusting with the shield forwards and pulling the polearm backwards, stopping it where his enemy would have been, as if there actually was someone who got stabbed in the back.*

"It can be used to grapple from distance, or shoot."

*The tip erupted in blue fire, shooting a bolt of stunning energy at the wall.*

"Most importantly, if the length is not suiting you, you can turn it into an other weapon."

*He slid the blasterhook down in his hand just a bit over its middle point, to the second handle, and pressed a button. The lower half fell to the ground. It was clear now. Seleevan Khar did hold a polearm, he held an axe. Swift to cut or stab, grapple or smash with the pole. Versitile.*

"A weapon is not just a tool. It is an extention of the wielders philosophy. I keep you at a distance and am still able to kill you while you cant even get close with your strikes. When I let you close, fighting you from the front, that is when you get stabbed in the back.
If my weapon is compromised, if I cant wield it as I like, or the enemy is too fast, I can change, become fast and precise just as my enemy is.

You will make a weapon that suits you, and you only, Laele. One that nobody has fought before, because there is only one like you, one like it will be, no other. It will be an extention of your will."
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Post Sun Jul 15, 2012 7:03 pm

Re: Hyperspace

*Her brow furrowed, then eased as she broke into a grin, a disturbing expression on any face of a Chiss. She approached Seleevan from the side to more intently observe his demonstration with the weapon. It was...a surprise. Maneuvers that were unexpected, that the opponents would be unprepared for.

Now, she would be.

Which could only mean that the Vor was confident that this would not be the way he would choose to kill her. He would have other tricks. He seemed to have no end of them. To the dismay of her own ego, he was also correct in his assessment. Her mastery with her weapon was, among an empire of Sith, of no advantage whatsoever. These were the weapons and the teachings of someone else, adopted to her own style.

She stepped within the reach of the axe, her fingers lightly brushing along the blade*


"You have an advantage with a weapon like this, with your unique build among humanoids."

*Her smile faded into something more somber, and her hand dropped away. With a small, barely audible click, she unhooked her lightsabers from her belt and lifted them in her palms, her mouth tensing at the corners.*

"...I've always been partial to chains."
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Post Sun Jul 29, 2012 12:42 pm

Re: Hyperspace

*He put the blasterhook against the wall, and started strapping down the Shield from his underarm. He wouldnt show her the secrets of the shield, nor the secrets of the blasterhook, no... he did tell some, yes, but not all. Those, she will have to experience first hand.*

"Sticks and stones may break your bones, but whips and chains exite you?"

*He said in a comical voice, and put the shield against the wall too, beside the blasterhook. He turned towards her.*

"A chain is heavy, slow, small chains are fragile. A chains weakness is its weakest link, and there are a lot of links in it. What would your philosophy be behind that chain, what would the reason for the chain be?"
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Post Fri Aug 10, 2012 7:48 pm

Re: Hyperspace

"There are drawbacks that would be difficult to overcome, but if mastered, the advantage would be entirely mine."

*The inactive hilts of her weapons rotated idly in her hands, and she began to pace. Speed would be the greatest weakness. It would have to become her new focus in training in order to make up for as much of the loss as possible. But weight, now, that would not be a problem. At least, not in the way that the Vor was suggesting. She continued to rotate the thoughts in her mind, analyzing what had initially been a knee-jerk response. She mused aloud in her response to the Fleet Minister.*

"There are weapons designed for precision, for the quickness and efficiency of the kill."

*Her hands stilled, the red glow of her eyes flaring.*

"...and then there are those designed to inflict pain, difficult to defend against in their unorthodox brutality. The purpose, then, would not be to bring about a swift end to the conflict, but to utterly break the target."

*She muttered, more-so to herself than to the Vor.*

"...Every move would either be a fatal error, or a terrifying success."

*It would take time, though. It would test her patience and her resolve. But, she had waited a long time for something she had wanted, once already.*
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Post Wed Aug 15, 2012 3:55 pm

Re: Hyperspace

*Sel will not be the critic here. Pain is the critic. One can not argue an other beings thoughts without actually seeing them in action. Arguing, in this case, would just result in rebellion. He liked her rebellions, and that is the reason he wouldnt fight this one out. Some rebellions could lead for her to have none ever more. He didnt want that by any hand but his.
The thought, that it is a beautifull thing that he wanted to be the only person in the world who ended her life was... *


"The trip will take time, back to Korriban. You have untill then to create your weapon plans."

*He removed all his weapons from the belt but the submachinegun, and put them besides his other weapons.*

"Just remember the lesson. This will be an extention of you, but one that is effective. This will keep you alive the same way your mind keeps you alive in a council meeting."

*he turned towards her, and stood strait, looking down on her blueship. A long... long trip.*

"When we are done on korriban, with whatever the empire needs, I would like you to come to vortex. See my home. My people."

*The way he said my people, it wasnt the way someone proud of his nation or race speaks, it was the way someone speaks of owned items. And he didnt TELL her to come to corriban. He spoke to her as an equal, wich she was, and was not in the same time.*
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Post Wed Aug 15, 2012 4:23 pm

Re: Hyperspace

"I will consider it."

*There was something about the way this conversation was unfolding that was discomfiting. She was beginning to recognize the more subtle ways in which he manipulated a situation, but still not enough to know where to maneuver to slip around his plans.

There were several strings of thought that kept her expression somewhat distant, distracted. Her army on Korriban was under-equipped, and that needed rectified. The politics that had unfolded on Csilla had been disappointing, and somewhat insulting to the very culture of the Chiss, and that needed corrected. In order to achieve that lofty goal, she would need to find her brother, a desperate search that so far had yielded nothing. There were also old contacts that she had not spoken to in decades...if they yet lived.

And finally, there were the strange demands of this Vor, who continued to keep her guessing. She despised that, and hated him. Yet, she continued to play this trap of a game. Curiosity? Or had she stepped too deep into this labyrinth to find her way out again?

Enough. She broke her luminescent gaze away from Seleevan's, turning to leave the cargo bay. She would forego sleep in lieu of meditation. It would allow her more time to conceive and plan, and fatigue kept her paranoia sharper. She had been too relaxed with him on Csilla...being on edge would do her good.*
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Post Thu Oct 04, 2012 12:59 am

Re: Hyperspace

*In the far reaches of Unknown space, a collection of derelict Mandalorian vessels, one Keldabe battleship and three Crusader corvettes. Scans of the area would reveal the debris of several starfighters as well as chunks of each warship. It was obvious that a majority of the ships remaining power was redirected to more important sections of each ship.*

*On the bridge of the Keldabe, the self proclaimed Mandalore the Dominator sat upon his command chair. It had been three years since the events of Basilisk, and things had gone to hell not long afterwards. After ditching their ancient vessels and stealing more modern warships from the Mandalorians, they had escaped to the Unknown Regions where they sat for several months doing nothing. Restlessness began to settle in among the warriors and soon, the Commanders of the other warships declared themselves the leaders of the Mandalorians and a civil war broke out. After several hours of the free-for-all, all ships had disabled each other and they were all left stranded. Only a handful of fighters were left and jumped to hyperspace away in the hopes of getting back to society, leaving the four warships alone...and Bendak Na'daz, the Mandalore, with only a handful of dedicated warriors for him to command.*
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Post Mon Oct 22, 2012 12:44 pm

Re: Hyperspace

It had been months spent in silence on board the YT freighter that Orian had managed to get his hands on which had done nothing but been adrift in space. His food provisions were low, and he was borderlined malnourished, but that mattered not to Orian. In those months spent alone with only his thoughts for company, Orian had recalled all the teachings given to him in his youth... and unlike times before spent in meditation he came to a impasse, on that he knew was due to lack of understanding on his part. Before, Orian's mentality would not have acknowledge this as his fault, rather he'd blame someone else and state it was due to their ignorance that he was at fault and carry on, but things had changed over the past year with Orian. Relationships had been mended, some that is... and old feelings, wounds that Orian carried around had been healed to some extent but it still left him with such an emptiness, a wanting of something much more.

Questions... Questions and more questions haunted Orian's mind and it was from here, that he decided. He had to seek out a Master, on unlike he had never had before and knew exactly where to find one, but the problem he knew that he would face would be would they accept him, or would they deny him or perhaps even kill him on site? Orian knew that in order for a change, in his own faith in others he would have to trust and rely on what he knew to make what he was about to do even possible. He rose from the floor, his back and body sore from he posture he had been in for hours on end, made his way to the pilots chair and while doing so grabbing ration wrapped in a sliver package. He sat down, punched in a set of coordinates and was from that point on off to his destination, and back into the fold from his solitude.
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