Open Terrain

[Shaman Navi Saqua]

*There are any number of ancient civilizations buried under the noxious surface of this world. Technologies lost, secrets beyond imagining...it's all there to be found if one is willing to look hard enough. It was even a palace world for centuries. Surely there are some remnants of that glory beneath it all.*

*Valdemar Drea'gor is my name. Sadism is my game. Some call me insane. With anarchy its all the same.*

*I ponder my rhyme in my head as soon as I coined it. Its crude but it defines me in a lot of ways. Even now as I stand amongst the rubble and other trash around me I can see a part of me in it. Holding my in my hand I look at the starfighter in front of my eyes.*
Seems like I could get it to work... maybe.
*Throwing my weapon over my shoulder I walk over to the remains of an X-wing. I kick it and it responds in the equal and opposite reaction that causes my foot to stop rather than penetrate through the metal surface. Seems strong too, well fairly anyway. Needs a little work, rust is pretty bad. I shrug to no one in particular and begin climbing up another trash heap.*

*Upon reaching the top I bring out my Nightstinger and use the scope to search the rubble. I have found an X-wing so far, I could find something else I believe. Moving my rifle around I stop upon seeing a wing protruding awkwardly out of a pile of random bits of metal. Seems interesting, and perhaps there is another attached somewhere. Satisfied I have nothing better to do I swing my rifle over my shoulder and take hold of my shotgun again. And so begins my long journey to this piece of metal I hope to create something out of. Hell of a lot cheaper than buying something from those self centered companies.*

*Making my way across the rubble I find myself standing in front of the massive wing. Curious as to what it belongs to I climb up onto it. I recognize it now as belonging to a Nssiss-class Clawcraft. It would work well with my starfighter. It would look as ugly as hell, but it would do until I can find a better starfighter.*

*Now the problem of how to get the two together. Seems I am gonna need some help. Time to head to the nearest pub, or anything along those lines. I lift up my left hand and look at my wrist datapad, scrolling through the screen I open up a world map. According to my map there is a place called the Junker's Gambit. Seems well enough.*

*Hitting the icon a message comes up saying "Fast Travel to Destination?" and I hit "yes". Nothing happens... oh, wait... wrong universe. Lets rewind that a bit.*

*Hitting the icon a message comes up saying "Travel Route to destination?" and I hit confirm. A route pops up and I begin following it. Hopefully I am not too far away. Walking along I swing my shotgun onto my right shoulder, right hand gripping the handle. With my left I keep it in front of me allowing me to navigate the piles of junk.*

*Deep in the bowels of a broken ship there is a lab. The lab is uncharacteristically neat and tidy, completely at odds with the junk planet all around. The walls and floor are pristine, all traces of corrosion removed from the metal bulkheads. The lab's sole inhabitant is a short human of indeterminate age. The wild hair long ago faded to grey, but the face is unmarked by the passage of time. It could belong to a teenager for all the lines and wrinkles it lacked.

The man fancies himself to be a mad scientist. While the question of whether or not he's truly mad is up for debate, there is no doubt that he is a scientist, and a damned good one at that. Currently, he is staring at a chunk of black crystal scavenged from the wrecked ship he calls home. The crystal is currently behind a powerful containment field, which protects the man from the massive amounts of radiation being pumped into it. The thing sucks up all sorts of energy like a sponge. Even the color is the direct result of it absorbing light, visible or otherwise.

The scientist is careful to hide is frustration. Intuition says that he's on the verge of a great discovery, and that any stray thoughts of despair will be detrimental to his overall success.*

*Days have passed. The scientist has only stopped for food and sleep when his body became too weak to resist the needs of the flesh.

In this time, a few things have become apparent. One, that the crystal is not a naturally occuring element, though it can't truly be said to be synthetic either. The scientist thinks it may have been formed in a hyperdrive of a ship that collided with another at superluminal speeds.

Two, whatever its origin may be, it has absorbed massive amounts of energy. He discovered the crystal because this sector was strangely free of the low level radiation that permeated the entire junkyard planet. Not only that, but the spikes in radiation that are common in most parts of the planet are noticeably absent. Even the reactor core of this particular ship has been drained dry over the past few days.

Three, that energy can be released. The scientist has discovered that thought, of all things, exhibits a certain amount of control over the artifact. Curiosity, for example, causes it to release a very faint trace of radiation. He suspects that an order to release all the energy at once will cause a decent explosion, easily on the order of baradium or some other volatile substance.

Needless to say, the mad scientist is careful to always wear his tin foil hat when thinking such thoughts. No need to a stray train of thought on the nature of the blast to accidentally confirm his hypothesis.*

*On the seventh day, the scientist rested, for he knew that his work was complete. Using every instrument known to man (and a few other species,) he had plumbed the depths of this mysterious substance. He knew its secrets. He knew its soul.

Most importantly, he thought he knew how to make more. But first, he must test this substance, to see if its properties will match up with the computer models. For that, he needs an empty star system. Planets are a necessity if one is to gauge the destructive capabilities of the device, but it must be uninhabited by intelligent life.

The crazy old man set to work on finding a nearby system. He also began composing a comm message, to be sent to parties that might find the demonstration...interesting.*

:: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WOOKIEES AND WEEQUAYS!

Come one, come all for a spectacular demonstration of science and the majesty of the mind. To witness the main event, please travel to , and be ready for a little fun.

All observers should remain at least 10 light minutes from the furthers edge of the system at all times, and it would be wise to fly something with guns. You never know who else might be watching... ::

*Lily moved about the terrain. She didnt own a ship and she had been staying her for the last month, looking for work and waiting for someone to take her off the planet. Perhaps to another and start the whole process over again. She was bored, though she was a good shot and adept at hand to hand combat. She hadnt been in many fights.

Lilys hair blew in the breeze the long locks seemed to dance.*

*Deep in the bowels of the ship, a proximity detector picks up the presence of a human or near human nearby. The scientist was rather annoyed by the noise, and couldn't be arsed to check it himself.*

"Droid, go check that noise, will you? If it's a thief, kill them. Otherwise, tell them to leave me the hell alone."

Affirmative. Activating search routine.

*Eralam was starting to find this scientist to be annoying. He had heard rumors of a massively destructive device in the working, and had disguised himself as a relatively harmless combat droid and sold himself to the scientist via an intermediary. At first, it had been a challenge to stay in character. However, it wasn't long before the former Whill got tired of the charade. Now, at least, he had a chance to stretch his legs.*

*The RoboNinja made his was topside. It wasn't long before he spotted the intruder. It appeared to be human, or at least close enough to count. Female, if his recognition routines were still up to date. The Shard made his way over to say hello.*

"Salutations. What may I do for you on this fine day?"

*At last, it is done. Months of hard work have finally paid off. The mad scientist has his bomb, and it's a doozy. Not wanting to risk blowing up the entire system, the elderly human loads the device on to a ship and blasts the hell off. He takes the plans for the device with him, as well as all data on how to replicate its explosive component.*

"Best not to leave this somewhere that Jawas can find it..."

*He preps his ship for takeoff. The nav computer is set with the coordinates for a star system some ten light years off. Once he has the package loaded in the missile tube, the ship blasts off of the junk planet and off to the stars.*

[quote="Old Man Eralam":32k3454g]
[action:32k3454g]Deep in the bowels of the ship, a proximity detector picks up the presence of a human or near human nearby. The scientist was rather annoyed by the noise, and couldn't be arsed to check it himself.[/action:32k3454g]

[action:32k3454g]The RoboNinja made his was topside. It wasn't long before he spotted the intruder. It appeared to be human, or at least close enough to count. Female, if his recognition routines were still up to date. The Shard made his way over to say hello.[/action:32k3454g]

"Salutations. What may I do for you on this fine day?"[/quote:32k3454g]

"Mostly Im just out for a walk."

[action:32k3454g]Lilith turned to look at the speaker, rather unsure of his intentions. It felt odd to be approached rather than appraoching. Especially since she had had little to no interaction with driods before.[/action:32k3454g]

"Why?"

*Eralam looked at the girl, curious. Her attire would be considered unseasonably brief on most planets, and downright irresponsible on this toxic hellhole. Either she was dumb, lucky, or had some hidden skill. He had a feeling it was a combination of all three.*

"My mission statement requires that I ask. If your response indicates that you are hostile, then I kill you. If you are here by accident, then I determine what to do from there. Since you do not appear to be hostile, I would be glad to offer you some tea or caf, as my master insists I must be courteous to guests."

*Let it be noted that simpering like a protocol droid did not sit well with Eralam at all.*

"Tea?"

*Lilith had never dealt with a droid before and this ones actions were rather confusing. Since she had obviously stumbled somewhere she wasn't wanted she wondered if she should just leave.*

"No, no I think Ill just be on my way thank you. After all I don't think Ill find any work out here."

*Lilith felt a little uncomfortable, being under scrutiny most females were not intimidating in looks and she always felt work was harder to get for that reason.*

*The protocol droid routine was very obviously getting old. Eralam decided to be a little more direct, and drew his revolver.*

"Alright, let's cut the crap. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

*her ship lands as the engines begin the cooling sequence. her eyes glance about as she stands up. her long legs clad in a leather body suit look even longer. across her hip her belt and her robes clung about her body, concealing her many weapons*

*Valdemar trudges along his route he had discovered toward the Old Republic era starfighter. Must of been around from the Cold War with the Jedi and Sith. His mind wanders as it begins to think which side he would have chosen to fight for. Though the answer is simple enough for him, which ever paid the most. He misplaces his foot on a piece of junk as he descends the pile he now stood upon. He feels the earth, well the excuse of earth anyway, exit from under himself and he hits the sharp metallic objects.*

*Sliding faster and faster down the hill he thinks less of the possibility of dying then the fact the pain of sharp metal objects slicing at his skin less like a rose and more like a circular saw. But then all of a sudden it stops, with a grunt and a jolt that runs up his spine and hurts his head, he hits the ground and instinctively rolls to help absorb the impact. Standing he looks around him to check for any hostiles, military like training seemed to never leave him, before noticing the blood dripping toward the ground.*

*Only a few seemingly serious wounds presented themselves, most being superficial, but there was one on his left arm that was deep and cut into his muscles. He doesn't happen to have any Bacta on him, or Kolto for that fact, but he makes a mental note to bring some next time. He leaves it for now, he'll treat it later so it doesn't get infected. Grabbing part of his torn shirt he rips some off and wraps his wound tight to stop the bleeding. He inspects his armoured vest and thinks it seems to be fine.*

*He looks at his Wrist Datapad (WDP) and readjusts his course. For now he will stick to the, granted rather polluted, ground. He grabs his shotgun with his right hand avoiding the use of his injured left arm. Step after step after step, the boring routine of placing one foot in front of the other. Normally Valdemar would enjoy such a walk and being out in the open air but here in this caustic and rather inaesthetic environment doesn't really bring much pleasure to the proverbial table. Finally as he rounds the last junk pile he sees his prize, a broken and busted fighter but one that could be repaired with some time and some skill.*

*she looked about, her dark golden eyes sensing something, or someone a person scavenging the debris. she turned pressing a button on her watch as a speeder was lowered from the docking bay. she walked over attaching her belt to her hip as she hopped on. Turning it on as it roared to life. closing her eyes she reached out sensing this presence as she thrummed the throttle and lurched forward. dodging the garbage, as she gained ground coming closer. she slowed down. her red flaming hair falling down her back. she maneuvered around slowly, the only sound the soft thrum of her speeder*

*Half briskly walking, half stumbling from his wounds he makes his way across the distance and inspects the ship closer. He won't be able to do much with it at the moment but he made note of getting a way to move it. If he can get it to a workshop he could fix it up nicely.*

*Half briskly walking, half stumbling from his wounds he makes his way across the distance and inspects the ship closer. He won't be able to do much with it at the moment but he made note of getting a way to move it. If he can get it to a workshop he could fix it up nicely. He turns around and faces the direction he came from. Perhaps he could enlist the help from someone at that bar.

Only as that thought ends does something draw his attention. A faint humming noise comes across his hearing, it sounds like a repulsor engine, a swoop bike or a landspeeder perhaps. I flick my shotgun around under my arm and squeeze it tight before pumping it. Flicking it back around I walk slowly to the junk pile I guess it is going to round and aim ready to take down the possible hostile.*

*she looks down at the incoming person. he seemed to be standing out, near an old ship. She saw him pull something from his back as she recognized a weapon. vearing sharply to the right she pulled up behind a pile of scrap metal giving her enough cover as she hopped off her bike. she detached her saber from her belt gripped it in her right hand. she closed her eyes and reached out sensing the being. her sharp golden eyes snap open. He was holding a shot gun. she speaks, her voice smooth*

"i hope you dont plan on shooting me"

*Valdemar smirks at the girls comment, well lady perhaps is more fitting, either way. He knows at this distance no man could avoid the supersonic shrapnel, even a force user can't bloke that many projectiles. Still best not to underestimate such beings. I look down at my WDP briefly, the glance not removing the target from my vision. Hard thing to do but the angle is right as Val had planned it. So I suppose the question of her response to the weapon pointed to her is a curious one. The lack of cowering in fear and the fearless response means she is used to dangerous objects pointed at her, it'll be fun, so he thinks. More fun to break. At that thought his smirk curls slightly more creating an almost creepy look. So, perhaps this lady is self centered at the fact she didn't even have any concern for his obvious damage. Like come on, he has blood pouring down his arm.*
Well, I'm less accustomed to welcoming people that don't plan on killing me. But I suppose it happens every so often. Why you here? And more importantly... Have a ship?