A Horde in the Clone Wars (Star Wars AU)

[Grimmatt]

Come close child and listen, for I am about to tell you a story that might save your life.

Ages ago, long before Depur came from the dark beyond the stars, another came by this world. A warrior giant, he had been rushing between wars and battles among the stars and came down to rest his head for a time. But, he did not just stride up to the oasis and pitch his tent! No, this one went to Ar-amu's dwelling and knocked on the door.

"Greetings Grandmother! I am Jorm and I seek a place to rest my head. As this is your home, and the home of your children, might I have your blessing to pitch my tent in the shade?"

As he spoke, the Grandmother of the desert listened and considered his words. "You may, but things have been hard of late for me and my children, and we barely have any water or food for ourselves."

At this Jorm nodded and laughed. "Ah, this is no worries! Ah, before I go to pitch my tent, I have almost forgot! A gift to commemorate our meeting!" At this, Ar-Amu tensed, thinking that this outlander was going to be demanding things of her, before he reached into his chest and took out several flasks of fresh clear water and a bag full of a bread laden with nuts and honey. "For you and your children."

At this, the giant winked, and moved to pitch his tent, though he was gone in the morning, rested and ready to resume his wars among the stars.

He returned several times, each time brining small but helpful things, or even pretty little things for the children as they asked. He was quick to laugh and always willing to help his hosts and asked merely that he was allowed to rest for several hours.

It was on one of these stops, that he beheld Leia, daughter of Ekkreth, when she was still young, but aye, even in her youth she was The Mighty One! At this, there was a glint in the giants eye, as he walked up to her, bold as unbared steel and asked a very simple question. "I hear you are called the mighty one! My own people call me the worldshaker for my great strength! Would you do me the honor of a wrestling match?"

There was a smile on the giants face, but it was an innocent one and eager for the challenge. Leia herself looked at him and scoffed. "It will take me no great effort to best you!" And with this, she leaped forward and they began to wrestle! Now, Leia was young then, and while mighty indeed, she was not used to one that could match her in physical might and was far more experienced than she in the wrestling ring. And so, this first match, she lost as she was pinned to the ground, Jorm bleeding from her claws even as there was a smile on his face.

As she rose in a huff, her pride affronted and wounded, for she was the dragon and what dragon enjoys losing, Jorm laughed and handed her a pearl. It shone with an inner light, of the suns setting and fires dancing. To celebrate the contest he claimed... and motivation he hoped that their next bout might be even better!

And so, each time Jorm came to Tatooine from then on he has always met the Elder sister were he he first wrestled with her, where in later trips he made a great ring for their bouts. It was on her first victory that she claimed the first prize she so desired, the secret of fashioning the pearls. And so Jorm taught her, and she in turn passed it to the other dragons, that they might possess jewels of their own... even as hers were the grandest of them all!

But many other prizes did she claim, even as soon enough Jorm and Leia have settled into never truly finishing their bouts when they meet.

 

[Grimmatt]

Nine Hours After Stormfall
(Palace of the Shell, Councils Hall)

Inside of the hall, as the remaining Hutts screamed and yelled at each other, as accusations of treachery and dirty maneuvers flew (already more than one had been torn from their shells to suffocate), even as the they could all hear it, echoing and ringing in their minds, in their souls. the echoing tolls of uncountable bells. These bells were deep and mournful, each ringing pulse seeming to make them shudder, to make the metal of their shells vibrate and sound in turn.

Yet, there is finally silence, a stillness that echoes deeper than any noise, as eyes look to the great gates, blast doors that could hold out for hours even from a lightsaber if not just ignore it entirely... as the doors begin to turn red, rusting and turning to dust as the giant figures walk forward, scythes in hand and held out before them. At least one of the awaiting hutts think they see a great shadow over the approaching figures in the dust, a vast shadow that seems to be carved out of reality before the dust shifts and the figure vanishes.

Yet, it is not the giants that spark the fear and terror in the withered hearts of the assembled masters of the Shell Huts. No, it is a slim figure, a slip of a girl, a twi'lek waif glad in simple robes of grey and who wore no shoes. She bore no weapon, and a blindfold was across her eyes. The only thing in her hands was a set of scales, a simple pair that would hardly be out of place in a low tech merchants stall.

And yet, compared to the giants that flanked her, the girls presence could not be ignored. It was steel and calm, it was unforgiving and in her shadow they could see and feel the gazes of every slave that had passed through their hands. From under that blindfold they could feel what was coming, and they shrunk back, even as one, brave in that way that the young, foolish and ambitious so often are, moved forward, bluster clear.

"You come with violence here! Your worlds will burn as our revenge fleets muster! But your kin will not be so lucky as to die, no, they will not! No matter what you choose, if you surrender to the council, your family will be enslaved, your homes burned! Surrender and we will spare them and chain them as we toss you to the..."

He tried to speak, as the girl looked into his eyes, as she said but too words. "No more." And the young hutt fell silent, voice gurgling as he began to scream. And he screamed as if he had gotten the glimpse of the hells that awaited him, as if the chains of the abyss had reached out to claim him, as her hand reached out, caressing the hutts face. It was a surprisingly gentle thing, even as the shadows lengthened and the dust in the room seemed to form countless gates, countless doors.

"No more. It has been long in the coming, but justice, vengeance, is at hand." Her tone is gentle, warm and full of compassion, as the dust rises up, in it the face of every last soul that the hutts in this chamber had consigned to ruin and pain, to the death of chain and body, the tendrils moving and ghosting forwards with hungry and silent intent.

"Leave only the head of the clan untouched for the moment my friends." She smiled then, head cocked. "The warlord requires his presence with the others." And then the dust surged forth, and the leaders of the shell hutts began to scream, as the dead finally had their due.


AN; Short I know, but its all my muse has given me today Just tell me what you think of it!

 

[Grimmatt]

"Because of course they have actual freaking necromancers."

All life eventually returns to the force. This is a truth that the Jedi are aware of, and yet, yet also acknowledge that it is possible for those who die to retain some semblance of individuality, but for the greater part any individuality is lost amid the currents of the force. And then many cultures speak of various heavens and hells that exist after the coil of life has run its course.

Both of these points of view are correct.

Imagine the force as a great sea, with living creatures able to create a small bubble to prevent themselves from being washed away and rejoining the sea. Yet, echoes remain, traces that can hold on, As myths and legends grow, it is possible for these pieces of self to find themselves to gather here once they pass from the world of the living.

It was here that ancient dark jedi plumbed the shallows of the psychic realms of the dead, and from here that drew forth the dark spirits that were used to torment worlds. Of course, they were not the only force using tradition to do so, and in fact many had rather more experience with the matters of what passed after the mortal realm than dreamed of by Sith or Jedi.

It is from this tradition that have arisen an order that has found protection under the Jotun, though it should rather be noted that at least three of the dreamers joined that order before their ascension and have extended their protection thereafter. Naming themselves the Speakers of the Dead, they are a rather quiet monastic order that normally avoids conflict. Instead, they act to maintain monuments to the dead, to soothe the souls of the departed and lead them to rest and to the slay the undead.

However, their war name, the Children of Dust, comes from the one act of what many would consider to be actual necromancy. They do not command the dead, but when the dead cry out for justice, for crimes against them that are unanswered, or if they wish to atone in person, they are able to act as a medium, channeling them into the physical world where they can animate a physical vessel. Most commonly this is dust, and from this comes their name.

Still, they are kind and compassionate... and draw almost exclusively on what most would see as the Light Side of the force, despite the deep connection with the realms of the dead. But, while they are most often loving souls that offer comfort and solace, for all that lives will one day die, there are few things that rouse their ire.

And now, the countless dead that have been screaming for justice for an age, the greedy and devouring hell that is Hutt space will be cleansed. With this campaign, an uncountable number of souls will find peace. And so, ask not for who the bell tolls. It tolls for the hutts.

 

[Grimmatt]

Two Days After Stormfall

It came as a surprise to the galaxy at large, even as the various force sensitives were able to tell (lightsabers and other weapons drawn) that this event was in no way natural as every holocomm in the known galaxy activated at once. It showed a scene that was recognizable in part to the other hutts, located as it was at the heart of Shell Hutt power. There, a crude throne made of discarded shells had been formed, and a massive armored figure sat, a chain in his hand leading to a gargantuan mass of flesh, a collar binding it with runes that hurt the eyes and seemed to twist and shift.

"People of the Galaxy! I am Hordelord Eddard Froststeel, leader of the Jotun Horde! I come to you to let you know that war has been declared against the Hutts and their slaver empire! That the oath I made to The Skywalker will at last be fulfilled as the stars are drowned in their blood and the chains broken! For ages uncounted they have spread their corruption across the stars, and has the republic done anything to curtail them? No, they have not."

There is something about this hordelord that seems dangerous at the moment, savage and on the verge of violence, as he makes a sweeping gesture. "Already the border worlds of the hutts have fallen and we drive into their heart. Our resolve is firm and the only peace that will pass between us is the peace of the grave, as the souls of the hutts are tossed to the shades of those who they used as fuel in life." There is steel, and amusement in his eyes, as he gestures to the mass of flesh at his feet.

"You ask then, why I have this flesh bound and chained at my feet? I, who have declared total war on these slavers? Behold Nullada, lord of the Shell Hutts! You see," the giant here was grinning widely, "I have been informed that it is customary for the leaders of crimes on a grand and weeping scale to be tried separately. Fear not, he will be treated as he deserves, before he, and the other four lords of the Hutts, have their day in court."

He smiles, as other images begin to show, of hutts being burned, slashed, drowned, electrocuted, crushed and a thousand other terrible deaths enacted at the hands of baying mobs, and he begins to laugh. "They shall be tried by the slaves they ruled over, and if they were worthy of mercy, they shall be granted it!"

That smile is feral, as he leans forward. "But, to the Confederacy and Republic, we also have this to say. Stay out of our war as we clean up this mess on the galactic stage."

Leaning back, he bows his head. "And to The Skywalker. My apologies it has taken so long to begin."

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Five Minutes Later
(The Negotiator)

Anakin Skywalker looked at Obi-wan (who was rather disapproving at the moment), Snips (he was not sure if the shock or wonder was worse really) Rex and Cody (both had that 'really sir' expression at the moment) were looking at him, as he raised his hands and said the only thing he could. "Hey, I told you about that dream I had Master, and your the one that said it didn't mean anything!"

Which really, pissed him off. You would think that Obi-Wan would have believed him after last time, after he held the body of his mother in his arms because Obi-wan would just not listen. Because of course it was just him wishing vengeance on the hutts and not a message from something oddly familiar for something he had never seen before.

Still, he inwardly sighed, as the council was just going to be raking him over the coals, he just knew it.

And then, he flinched, something that made Obi-wan sigh and start to lecture him, as he wondered just how Padme was going to react to this.

 

[Grimmatt]

Three Hours After Stormfall Broadcast
(New Order Network)

"This is Danny Vermillion from NON news, coming to you with breaking news of the unprecedented activation of holocommunicators seemingly across the galaxy and the shocking declaration of war by a species of brutal warmongers against our allies in the outer rim, blockading the hyper routes we need to wage the war and preserve lives!"

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(Ryloth Free Radio)

"Do you see my brothers and sisters! While they have not declared for us, who else has taken up arms against those that would oppress and enslave us? For an age we have ridden the storm, but from the humans comes a saying that the hutts should have paid great heed to! They have sown the whirlwind and now they shall reap the full measure of the storms fury! Rise up children of Ryloth! Let us break the chains! Death to the hutts!"

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(The Perre Needmo Newshour)

"Fellow sentient beings of the galaxy, I am not sure of recent events I am sad to say. On the one hand, I left my homeworld because I could not abide the practice of slavery, because keeping other sentient beings in bondage has always struck me as deeply and profoundly wrong. And Vinsoth is a world in the outer rim. The hutts presence there is pervasive and none living there can truly say that they are free of the worry that if they catch the eyes of one of them that a snatcher team could not be sent after them, that situations would arise that place them so deeply in debt that chains soon follow or even that raids of 'pirates' will descend on a world and carry off many that you know and love to the every hungry markets.

Yet, much like how I despair of the current civil war in the republic and the loss of life.... I cannot deny that the ones waging this war have a valid point. That wrongs have been committed and left to fester in the dark for far too long, ignored because it is more convenient to ignore them or too far away to look into the eyes of the broken and hear their cries for help become quieter and more choked as help never comes, as the bright shining republic does not break down the door and bring them out of the darkness.

While I mourn each sentient life that falls, I find myself only able to ask the Jotun this, that they limit the collateral damage."

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(Voice of the People, Naboo News Network)

"Well, we all know the question on everyone's lips! Is the Skywalker mentioned by the Jotun Hordelord one of Naboo's heroes, Anakin Skywalker, who proved instrumental in saving our world from the Trade Federation in their attempted blockade a decade ago? We have reached out to the Jedi Temple, but so far there is no response.

Still, we have begun an investigation into the life of The Hero Without Fear in wake of this, as the question begs to be asked... when was this oath made? Was it before or after he saved our world and what could he have done to have made the leader of this unknown species decide it was fitting to exterminate the hutts in exchange?"

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(Holonet News Network)

"Already, we have reports from the Supreme Chancellors office, as well as the Department of Security, that an investigation will be underway as to how a complete unknown was able to so thoroughly subvert and access the holonet. Of course, as one of the names mentioned is our very own Hero Without Fear, we have to ask ourselves this. Does our hero have an agenda of his own in Hutt space? Is this a response to the mission he undertook there some time ago? Are the Jedi keeping secrets from us that will lead the already embattled republic into even greater conflicts? All of these questions and more, we will try and answer in the coming days!"

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(Free News Network)

"See for yourselves the true face of the republic, at the barbarism and savagery they are content to unleash! Oh, they claim to be going after the Hutts for the crime of not agreeing with their cultural practices and economic models with this hidden mercenary army, but this footage from Zygerria, of the terror weapons they are willing to unleash on civilian population centers to cow us into submission! To all right minded sentient beings of the galaxy, rise up and cast off the shackles the core worlds place on you and embrace the freedom to decide your own destiny!"

 

[Grimmatt]

Among those that know of its existence, few names inspire as much horror and terror as that of the Gore Host. Some where created on purpose, others the brutalized and insane remnants of Goretides brutal rampages that he ignored in favor of prey closer at hand to be slaughtered. But, when the more intelligent members of the host an gather these shattered and insane remnants, they form a plague on nearby star systems that spread and kill, hoping to ignite another visit by their lord and master in the pursuit of every greater atrocities and carnage.

Some are under the impression that they can be hired, as mercenary as other Jotun factions or warbands. But members of this host do not accept credits or resources. The only payment these crazed figures demand is blood. They demand that they are thrown into the bloodiest fighting and where the blood will flow. The price of their service is carnage and atrocity with staggering and appalling collateral damage that has all too often ended with Goretide manifesting an Avatar and the worlds to be conquered torn apart.

They are the eaters of worlds, the ravagers of civilizations and the baying hounds of the Blood God sitting on his throne of skulls.


Goreghoul

The most common member of a Gore Host is the Goreghoul, a creature that bears an uncanny resemblance to a rakghoul. This is no coincidence, as the Goretide is one of the few living creatures remaining in the galaxy that can call himself an acolyte of Karness Muur. While not taken an an exact apprentice by his master, Goretide was able to learn enough secrets to create his own variation of the plauge and in the ages since his masters passing, has improved it.

As it is, the baseline Goreghoul is a creature notably stronger than the species it was spawned from, but resembles an emancipated and pale version, with an exaggerated muzzle, fangs in place of teeth and clawed hands. The skin usually gains a corpse like pallor as well, and often they look weak and on the verge of death. All of this is absurdly deceptive.

Firstly, every Goreghoul has their biological limiters removed, enabling them to possess greater strength, but damaging themselves in the process. However, this ties into the fact that they cannot register pain. While they can technically feel it, it is noted as unimportant and disregarded in the pursuit of more and more prey. Third, and one of the breakthroughs of Goretides alchemy, is that Goreghouls have two innate force abilties.

The first is the ability to project their own blood as weaponized plasma, coating them in a cloak of their own blood that strikes and burns nearby foes. The second the ability to feed on the pain and suffering of nearby living creatures to heal themselves, allowing them a form of regeneration thanks to this version of Force Drain. However, the average Goreghoul has no conscious control of these abilities, and instead they activate whenever their adrenaline spikes... such as when they are in combat.

There are three main variations of the base Goreghoul.

Gorebrutes; The most common variant, these ghouls have gorged themselves on flesh and have grown to roughly half again their former body mass. As it is, the exact trigger is unknown outside of the host, but is common enough across multiple unrelated species that some have speculated that most of them had latent markers for giantism. Aside from their greater size giving them greater strength, there is nothing outstanding about them.

Gorelurks; While rarer than the brutes, these particular mutants are also much more dangerous. A touch more cunning and blood flowing with a toxin that acts as a paralyzing agent, even if you are not infected contact with their blood leaves most species sluggish and weak. However, their most terrifying additional ability is an instinctive grasp of Force Stealth, becoming extremely hard to notice by organic prey before they strike.

Gorechiefs; They lack the power of the brutes or ambush abilities of the lurkers, but it is the chiefs that are most feared by those that know of them for one simple reason. Unlike the lesser ghouls, they have kept much of their ability to reason and plan intact. While much more aggressive and blood thirsty, they are able to enact strategies and have a rough grasp of tactics, and their granted abilities are to coordinate and compel to a degree lesser ghouls.


The Sanguinary

One of the improvements that Goretide made over his masters work was his own sorcery could infect other force users, transforming and corrupting them. The curious thing however, is that it does not turn them into mere ghouls, but dark side creatures that retain the full breadth of intelligence from their prior life and many of the memories, however twisted and warped.

The only powers they all have in common is an innate grasp of hemokinesis, ability to command Goreghouls and the ability to consume blood to heal themselves. In addition, they tend to resemble their former selves, save with longer and sharper canines and a corpse like pallor. While they are young, inside a year or so of their initial transformation, they tend to be as physically strong as a ghoul, but can learn to disable and control the amount of biological limiters for their muscles.

The most terrifying thing, from an outside perspective, is that this process is effective at transforming latent force sensitives of sufficient strength as well, well below what is considered to be the cut off for the jedi order.

 

[Grimmatt]

So, I had been talking in another forum today, and happened to come up with two little items, one of which is a Jotun alchemical creation and the other is a new type of drug that some slaver groups are creating. Note, if Sideous had all the details about said drug, he would be killing the makers off.


Force Mirror Ale

The Jotun are fond of alcohol and well versed in alchemy. It should come as little surprise that they have combined the two on many, many occasions to create drinks with properties that go beyond the merely natural. One of the few that actually makes it with some regularity into republic space is the infamous 'Mirror Ale'.... which despite the name has NO alcoholic content.

Instead, this drink, which appears reflective like a mirror and smells vaguely sweet and bitter acts as an emotional mirror and amplifier, including feelings of peace and calm. It is for this reason that they place a warning on the label to avoid situations that lead to hate, pain and anger for thirty minutes after drinking.

This drink was created by the Jotun so their friends and allies who could not tap into the force had an idea of it... and show why using the force to tap into the dark side, after applying a force number, is a BAD idea without a clear head.



Seven Peak Fragrance

This is the latest in a line of drugs created by a ring of slavers and kidnappers in the mid rim territories, and one that looks to be one of their greatest success stories. Now, this invisible gas could be noted for the seven types of sweetness that could be smelled, but most often when you are exposed to the gas its effects start to work on your physiology and everything is fine.

In fact, that is the single greatest notable effect of the gas. Those effected by it are happy, calm and passive, with little in the ways of will or motivation. They will sit there and so long as there are regular doses (once every hour) they will continue to sit there with a calm smile on their face, with little brain activity occurring without outside stimulation, spending it in a calm and pleasant thoughtless daze that takes approximately two hours to wake up from to full mental faculties.

However, this drug has a particular effect on force users, or rather, the midichlorians. In that this gas rendered them dormant for several hours on exposure, something found only in a rare handful of chemicals. However, this particular effect is not actually well known, if only due to the lack of force sensitives exposed to the gas.

Three Jewels Balm

A creation of those that created the Seven Peak Fragrance, the Three Jewels Balm is a tool of slavers who wish to at the very least appear kind, or at least condition their slaves into becoming blind to the chains. This balm comes in two types, one that works on each biological sex (male and female), even as the creators look to expand to the other biological sexes.

What this lip balm does is a simple enough thing in some respects, and in others it is cruel and insidious. When the one wearing it kisses one of the sex the balm is designed for a series of chemicals are triggered that provide a combination of pleasure and a feeling of rightness. The balm can be used with more than just the lips, but the end result is a greatly accelerated Stockholm syndrome as the target begins to associate the one applying the balm with feeling good... and whats more, just how right it feels.

Of course, there are a number of other balms and products that are part of the 'Conditioning and Healthcare' line, each designed to elicit particular emotional responses useful in conditioning a target.

 

[Grimmatt]

For the most part, as the dust storm cleared in the ring, there was not the figure of a giant and a dragon laying there in an embrace. Or rather, the dragon had changed her shape a touch, looking now rather closer to the one she had just been fighting. But then, was she not the daughter of Ekkreth, the great changer of shapes? Still, as she looked into his eyes, she spoke in the tongue of the desert, in the hidden language of the slaves. "Beloved, you are here for the slug on his perch?"

Her tone has teeth, for she knows, and she is eager, even as clawed hands play over his chest, amber eyes turned to the horizon as Jorm laughs and leans down to place a kiss on her forehead, as he replies in the same tongue. "Why but of course! Young Eddard has called for all the leaders of the hutt clans be brought before him in the chains they so delight placing your siblings in." There is mischief in his eyes, as he gets ready to stand, and as he looks over the crowd that has gathered here...

And how several are looking at holocommunicators that are now showing footage of hutts being brutally killed as the Jotun go to war, and as he lets a hand reach out, helping her to her feet with a wink and chuckle. "Race you to the palace beloved?"

At this, Leia snorts, her form shifting once more to her usual one, as both paragon and desert goddess move swiftly over the sands. Along the way they gather up a good sized crowd, of all the folk deities of the desert save for Grandfather Sarlacc and Ekkreth (the first could not leave his pit, and the latter's current incarnation was across the galaxy at the moment) as they raced, the Storm grumbling at their heels and hungry for what was to come.

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And so it was that this procession came to the gates of Jabba's palace, and Jabba was no fool and had seen them coming from some ways away! And so he ordered the gates to be made shut... even as he was raging, for that very morning, all of his slaves had gone missing! And then that holocall and now this? He frowned, and gave an offer to his court, to the scum and bounty hunters that attended him.

"Ah, come my soldiers of fortune, a rare chance awaits you! For each head of those that come for this palace, a million golden peggats!" This mighty sum he declared with great force and arms spread out, as the crowd murmured and made ready... though a select number knew they would not collect. How did this handful, as greedy hearts moved and prepared know this?

This was not the first time they had seen The Worldshaker in action and they had no desire to fight THAT!

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As it was, as Jorm walked up the gates, the bodies of all the mercenaries who had not possessed the wit to surrender torn apart or incinerated (one of the little mercs had thought a rocket would help!) and now coating the ramp, the jolly giant knocked on the door. "Jabba, Jabba, won't yout let me in?"

At this, Leia, and many of the others, sighed and gave him sidelong looks, as he knocked again. "Jabba, if you don't open up, I'll huff and I'll puff and blow down this door!" Deep inside of the palace, Jabba scoffed, as this Jotun could not do such a thing. That was impossible, even as Jorm took in a deep breath, the sands being pulled back towards his mouth and the palace seemingly shifting just a little, before he 'huffed and puffed' and the door indeed get blown down!

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Of course, as Jorm walked into the depths of the palace, whistling and smiling, he was curious just how Jabba expected he was going to save himself. Then again, he paused a moment. Jabba was a hutt, and so was likely, as the giant chuckled, to try and bribe him to go away. As if he would forgo this chance to strike a blow against one of the great tormentors of his wifes family!

And of course, as he entered the throne room, Jabba did not dissapoint.

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The first thing those outside of the palace knew about it was when a screaming Rancor was thrown through one of the palace walls, soon followed by a laughing Jorm, Jabba screaming and writhing in his grip as the giant leapt after the rancor, which got up, groggy and shaking its head... only to be knocked to the ground as Jorm used Jabba as a club, the hutt screaming bloody murder as the Jotun swung the slug between the rancors claws and jaws, until the rancor was ready to leap at him.

With a grin he threw Jabba towards the rancor, jumping and using the crime lord as a spring step as both fists slammed into the other monster, the force of which made it explode. Looking around and smiling, giving a sigh of relief, he was not prepared for Leia to smack him upside the head. "Did you really have to show off like that husband mine?"

Her tone was long suffering, as Jorm laughed, roaring as Jabba looked like he wanted to try crawling away. "Leia, it was fun!" And the giant said that as if it was the only thing that mattered.

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Soon enough, Jorm was boarding his ship, a promise to return soon given, dragging Jabba behind him in a net of chains, even as Rotta the hutt was tied to the Jotun's head like a hat. departing to where the lords of the hutts would be tried and likely found wanting....

 

[Grimmatt]

As her husbands ship left, Leia turned to her little siblings, the children of the desert, both those in chains and those that were Free, and a smile was on her lips. Long ago, her father had inspired her siblings to sing her into being, born of their hope and their pain, of their very selves and souls. And she had made a promise to them as she left into the desert that was mother to them all when she was so very small.

Jorm had left, as was his habit, a great trove of gifts. To be sure, she had a new pearl for her crown, but the greatest gifts he had brought? She smiled as she opened the crate, revealing many blaster rifles and cannisters of ammunitions, many signal jammers, scanners, bacta patches, thermal detonators, rocket launchers and final components for the speeders and scrap areo-fighters. And of course, enough gear to outfit a regiment of each of her husbands adoptive children.

There was, as she looked at the assembled children of the desert and people of the sand, a rather predatory smile on her face, and it was knowing as well. "Little brothers and sisters! Cousins of the desert! Is it not time that we cast the masters out?" A great cheer from the crowd is the only reply she needs to hear, as the supplies were passed out among the people.

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2 Hours Later
(Mos Espa Cantina)

It was hard at times, Kryssk thought, to be a decent mercenary. Sure, he wasn't all that enthusiastic about the whole slaver thing, never really saw the point when droids were less of a hassle, but it afforded him chances to score points, and its not like he didn't let the slaves that gave a good hunt go. After all, the best prey yielded the best points even if he couldn't make a proper hunt of it.

But, as he rested on the ground, tied up, as the former slaves unchiped others fairly close at hand and relayed information to each other on the comms, it could be worse. At the very least, he might even have a job after all this was over and done with. Always a good thing really, and its not like he cared overmuch, as long as he got chances to hunt and score points.

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30 Minutes Later
(Outskirts of Mos Ilos)

Toombs, as he ducked and rolled for cover, another barrage of bolts coming for his head, sighed. "I should not have taken the money." It was a mournful statement, but hey, he was a hunter and morality and ethics are not really part of the business. But, as his eye looked at things, and the fact that the Sons of Skuller headquarters are still on fire (and just where the HELLS did they get whatever did that?), he sighed and tried moving for the next patch of cover, hoping the hanger was still holding on.

Because forget the hutts, he was getting the fuck off this dustball while his skin was intact!

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Twenty-Five Minutes Later
(Air over Hammerhead)

She danced in the sky, Nyla Stormrider, in her bucket of bolts and fury, swooped down at another of the speeders that were not marked, that had mercs and hunters and scum opening fire on her siblings. And she screamed at them, and the storm screamed with her, tendrils of the suns molten fury lancing out to break and shatter them, even as she danced and laughed and hunted anew for those that ignored the calls to stand down, that the chains had broken.

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One Hour Later

He laughed and dreamed, or was that dreamed and laughed, as he floated among the children of the desert, of his siblings and those that would take up his mask and mantle, even if his current self was rather far away at the moment. Still, as he and himself winked at the force, she laughed and nodded, and below them both, the clouds rolled in.

For now her children were free, and Ar-Amu could weep freely, and so rain fell once more on Tatooine.

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Same Time
(The Negotiator)

Anakin jolted out of bed, as the sudden sense that he should have been somewhere, doing something slammed into him. As he blinked, there was something almost like a giggle on the edges of his senses, and as he blinked the somehow literal sand out of his eyes. "Okay, just what the kriff did I miss?"

 

[Grimmatt]

Hour of Preparation

The Jotun were not fools, even as they sought to bring the empire of the Hutts to its knees in blood and fire. Yet, they admitted that some targets, which were necessary for the waging of their campaign would be far more problematic. Yet, to some who did not know, there was much mystery about Nar Shadda, the Smugglers Moon. Eddard had drawn up no war plans and issued no orders to the horde concerning one of the most populated and heavily defended worlds of Hutt Space, host to massive infrastructure, orbital emplacements and guardian to their capital and homeworld.

The only words he spoke, which brought a chill to the blood and marrow of those that knew, was a simple statement, dismissive even. "I make no plans for that moon, for several of the dreamers have laid their claim on THAT battle. If you have an issue with this, take it up with the Radiant Queen, The Lord of Dust and Scribe of Hours."

With each of those three names dread pooled in their hearts, as the questioners bowed their heads in supplication. Far be it from them to deal in the business of the Dreamers!

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(The Depths, Nar Shadda)


Deep in the dark, deep in the gloom, a light strode forth to those largely forgotten as the city built ever upwards, unable to make the claim back into the light. Many of them turned and hissed at first, before they began to weep, reaching out as the light washed over them, as it lifted them in her arms and whispered words of comfort into their ears, the pains that had been normal for so very long fading, washed away in that glorious and awesome presence.

Still, they held cried out, reaching for the Mother of Mercy, as she walked away to offer hope, to comfort and bless, as her daughters and companions, smaller lights but no less kind, followed in her wake, clean water and food flowing from them, whispers of knowledge and comfort and teaching as they looked around and with eyes now wide and open, dared to hope that things could be better, that life could be improved for them and their children.

And so, in the dark, with a thousand hands, was a seed wrapped in the light and cradled, ready to be nurtured in the night to come.

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(Halls of Silence, Nar Shadda)
(Mood)

Inside the halls of this monastery, tolerated by the hutts largely as they paid their taxes on time, as great gong rung. It did not produce a sound, but instead an absence of sound, a mournful promise of endings. Still, as the brothers and sisters of this order came to the central chamber, there was no noise, no whispers or disturbances. It was if they were ghosts, for all that the monks yet lived.

There, some five hundred years ago, their predecessors had brought a relic when they established this refuge, this place of solemn duty and reflection. There, they occasionally discussed matters of import with the eldest of their order and learned the deepest lore of the shadow lands beyond as generations worked to cultivate this moons spiritual life, to make its afterlives a place of peace and rest, a refuge from the corruption high in the spires and the hunger that gnawed from below.

And yet, of late The Lord of Dust had been asking of their stances on war. He did not command, though he very well could have. No, this elder consulted each of them, for each of them, living and dead, had value. And so, a day after the broadcast that shook hutt space to its foundations, it came as no surprise to all that the call had come, that volunteers were requested and the final preparations made.

With the toll of bells and the sigh of dust, the dead of Nar Shadda marched to war, a single cloaked figure, scythe in hand, at their head.

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(Holonet Access Chambers)
(Mood)

It had been close to four thousand years since they last had a breach of this magnitude, as a single figure stood in the central part of the complex. At first glance, it was a Jotun, a species that the Hutts had a passing familiarity with. Yet this one was odd. Its skin was the color of old flimsi, and eyes golden with hourglass irises that burned with a silver hue that defied casual description. There were tattoos across the giants skin, patterns that shifted and warped with the angle and time and yet remained wholly in place, as said giant hummed.

"Look, this won't change a thing really, but I want to tell you a little story." The giant seemed amused, as things stepped out of the angles around the building. Some of them were creatures well known to anyone that wandered the stars save for masks of mirrored silver and translucent blades, and creatures that seemed to be a strange mix of hound and lion, save that they had no skin and a strange blue glow came from them, sparks rippling as claws echoed on the durasteel floors.

"Its not a complicated one, but rather, it involves a little specialty of mine. And don't worry, I'll avoid giving too many spoilers." There is mocking in the giants tone, as his companions cut down the guards, organic and droid alike, as silver-blue lightening dances across every terminal. "But, thats just the thing really, I'm one of THOSE people, who can't help but read ahead, who has looked across the weave of destiny and as it is, I'm not impressed by what the current bunch have planned, not for the days to come."

The figure hums then, as a finger twitches, and a million unseen threads impose themselves between the moments, twisting and dragging objects into patterns that match with a carful arrangement of forces, of dancing troupes and acrobats in azure-sliver clothes and mirror masks across the moon, deep in the depths from hands that had been paid to drop items of small size and worth three thousand years ago, to tokens of futures that will never come to pass dragged into the present day.

"So, I look for threads, options for extra throws of the dice, for ways that this little melting pot of idealistic fools and villainous scum we call a galaxy might be preserved a bit longer. And in each case?" The figure now has a gaslow grin, as anomalies ripple out, as time itself bends and contorts, as inside the bubble that is Nar Shadda things are swept into a raging river.

"So my good friends, let the Hour of Twilight usher in this good night!"