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Fallen Empires -- An Old Republic Era adventure (Star Wars)

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037: An End
  • Threadmarks
    • Amira: 20


    Just Imperius: 13
    Brenby: 10
    Keel: 1

    Skylah

    "Well, it's not like Ex-Two and I will be travelling alone anymore," you offer. "Amira's coming too! To Dromund Kaas, at least."

    "Oh, good," says Arlunia, looking a bit less pensive. Neither of you are very good at hanging onto that kind of feeling for very long at a stretch.

    "... How reliable is Rist, these days?" Nyx asks, looking every bit as pensive as she had a moment before. She's a brooder, which your brother managed to inherit. Somehow, this just makes him even more boring than he already is.

    "Amira has grown a lot, since the last time you saw her," Arlunia says. "She's been a full Knight for years."

    Nyx fails to be impressed by this accomplishment. "I've met Jedi Knights I wouldn't trust at my back in a dangerous situation, let alone my child's."

    Arlunia frowns at her, but you cut in. "Amira stayed behind to hold off a Sith Lord just to buy the rest of us time to escape, even though she thought he was going to kill her, fighting on her own."

    "She was right, as it would happen," say Imperius. You ignore her.

    "Oh, good for her!" Arlunia sounds genuinely proud of the younger Jedi. Still, she's not above shooting Nyx a very pleased-with-herself smirk. Not a verbal I-told-you-so, but the nearest thing to it.

    Of all things, this look is what seems to crack through Nyx's tense concern. She sighs in a fond, long-suffering sort of way as something silent passes between her and Arlunia. She looks back to you. "Fine. She'll be of use. Just... take care. Dromund Kaas is not a safe world at the best of times."

    You relax as well, but can't help but make a face. "I know, Pa'ma. We talked about that before I left." You'd talked about it a lot.

    "Yes, but you weren't dragging a Dark Side apparition with you when you set out on this trip," Nyx says. "Dromund Kaas is an old planet, steeped in darkness and millenia of tragedy and ruin. Allowing that your spirit does not mean you harm now, this may change if you go to the wrong place down there."

    "And the weather really is even worse than she makes it sound!"     Arlunia adds, giving you a meaningful look.

    "There's some truth to that first point," Imperius says. "Well, both points. The rain is just appalling most of the year, and the lightning hates you. In terms of me going mad and trying to murder you all, hopefully I'll continue holding up better than your run-of-the-mill Sith spirit." There's that ironic lilt to her voice still, but you're not sure that she's entirely joking.

    Ugh. Change the subject to someone else's problems. "How's Jazt?" you ask.

    Arlunia is barely phased by the sudden pivot. "Oh, well, he's learning under Master Yalort, now. I don't think he'll have quite the same problems that I did."

    "No, I don't imagine he'll run off and fall in with a broken Sith,"     Nyx says.

    "That part was never the problem," Arlunia corrects offhandedly "But, yes, I'd be surprised if he landed himself in that sort of situation." She looks a little rueful as she admits to you: "It's been very quiet, since you both left home. It's good to hear from you, Lah-lah." She grins at the face you make, hearing your childhood nickname.

    The rest of the call is a sort of strained banalty led mostly by your Mom. Small bits of news from home, people and places you knew all your life, now impossibly far away from you and this room and your hot chocolate. A pall still hangs over it all, though. They're both worries for you, for all that they show it in different ways. You'd known they would, but they deserved to know... and you needed to tell them for your own sake as well.

    Still, you're buoyed slightly by their parting words.

    "Force ever serve you, Skylah."

    "And may it be with you, wherever you go. We love you!"

    To your great relief, Imperius has nothing snarky to say about this. X2 does, of course, letting out a series of beeps like a snicker as the call ends. But that's just X2. It's almost a comfort.

    ==========

    Keel sees the hug coming, and returns it eagerly enough. Elra is a little surprised, but she doesn't refuse you. You...maybe take a little bit longer with him than with her. Keel's still pretty distracting.

    Jorden, despite having that wise Jedi thing pretty much down, still seems slightly poleaxed when you fling your arms briefly around his neck. Before you even pull away from him, Avress gives you a flat look. You do not hug Avress.

    The five of you and Amira are standing in the lobby of the government building where you've been staying. Despite the new Tyrost Planetary Government flags slapped everywhere, it's still a dark, imposing space, the vaulted ceiling forming a pyramid overhead. You don't exactly trust the government soldiers guarding the entrances to the room either, after that incident where two of them tried to essentially rob Keel at gunpoint for being an alien.

    "Thanks again for helping me find that part I needed for my ship," you tell Keel.

    Keel flashes you that smile again. "Honestly, it wasn't a problem."

    Elra snorts delicately. "He's lying, it was a huge pain. I think he needed to outbid a museum of ancient history for that thing — I don't know why you don't just sell the whole ship for scrap, since you're going with Rist anyway."

    "Mine is big enough for her to just dock with," Amira says from where she's been hanging back from the others. You get the feeling that whatever private words were exchanged between the two Jedi Knights were not entirely harmonious, now that the crisis is over. You hope none of it was about you, but you're sure some of it was.

    "Exactly!" you say, not without a defensive note in your voice. "I'm not scrapping my poor, perfectly good ship just because she had a bad day."

    "Didn't it fall out of the sky?" Elra asks. She's recovered a certain air of world-weary cynicism over the days since you all escaped that temple.

    "Well, Kinda. A bit. Just the one time, yeah," you admit.

    "Well, good luck," Keel says, before Elra can continue her unfair antagonism against hardworking little ships and the women who love them. Keel's still smiling, despite his lack of enthusiasm for your chosen destination.

    "Thanks, you too!" you say, choosing not to understand his subtext, just grinning back at him instead. You like Keel, beyond just his looks... but it's hard to get to know a boy when you'll be on completely different worlds. It's not like you're dragging him along with you to Dromund Kaas, as tempted as you'd been to try.

    "Stay out of trouble," Elra says, as if she's in any position to say that. You roll your eyes good-naturedly.

    You look away from the room's two Pantorans, and back to the pair of Mirialans instead. Jordan bows slightly. "May the Force be with you, Skylah," he says, more formally than your Mom had. Avress follows his lead with the bow a little stiff.

    "You too!" You give an awkward return bow. "Good luck with the new lightsaber." You're still sheepish about this.

    "It won't be the first time I've rebuilt it," Jorden assures you, with a slight smile.

    "You should really be coming back with us," Avress says, expression slipping into a frown. "The Order can help that spirit become one with the Force. Elra should come too — just to be sure there's no damage from the possession!" She adds this last very quickly as Jorden's suddenly keen-eyed gaze falls on her.

    Elra laughs. "I'm good, Av. I'm just not cut out for the Core Worlds."

    You glance over to where Imperius perches on someone's desk nearby. She shrugs noncommittally, not seeming particularly enthusiastic for Avress's idea. "We're good too," you say.

    Avress frowns harder. "But—"

    "This is their decision, Avress," Jorden says. "We are not the Sith. We will honour that."

    Avress recoils a little at the comparison. "I wasn't suggesting we kidnap them, Master!"

    "Then you have heard their answer."

    Avress sighs. "Yes, Master." She turns back to you, trying to banish her displeasure behind Jedi serenity, to mixed results. "Good luck. I hope you know what you're doing."

    "Oh, uh... not really?" you say, honestly enough. "I kinda just make it all up as I go. Works pretty well, so far!"

    "You don't say," deadpans Imperius. Avress is just pinching the bridge of her nose again.

    You watch the two Jedi Knights exchanging a formal farewell with each other, Amira once again expressing her sincere thanks for Jorden having come to her aid in the first place. You really aren't sure that Jorden would be nearly as okay with you just harring off after all this if Amira weren't going with you.

    Oh, well. It'll be fine.

    ==========

    You're not surprised or displeased when you find you have another goodbye to give, when you and Amira arrive at the clearing where your ships are temporarily stowed.

    "Brenby!" You exclaim upon recognising the broad-shouldered figure kneeling in meditation.

    You sense the Miraluka version of him cracking an eye open to watch your approach, his dark presence a comfort at this point where it brushes over your awareness. "Skylah," he says. "Rist."

    "Hello, Brenby," Amira says. Her tone is cooler, but not hostile.

    "Is your leg feeling better?" you ask.

    "It is," he says, rising to his feet.

    "Great!" You ignore X2's remark as he trundles off in the direction of Amira's modified Alderaanian courier vessel. Your Roeza had mounted to the side of it using the freight airlock and both ships' docking clamps easily enough, so there's that headache taken care of. She still looks a little awkward, latched onto the larger sharship like an overgrown mynock.

    "Take care," Amira tells Brenby, following X2. "May the Force be with you." You've been hearing that a lot, lately, with all the Jedi goodbyes going on.

    Brenby nods shallowly in acknowledgement, but he also tells her: "I'd wondered if you would object to my presence."

    Amira shakes her head. "We fought together," she says. After a moment, she pauses and adds: "Seek virtue in those who most strive for its attainment."

    "What is that supposed to mean, Jedi?" Brenby demands.

    Amira just shrugs, and continues on toward the ship. "I don't know that that's you, just yet. But there is the seed of something. I'll warm up the ship, Skylah. Take what time you need."

    "Sure," you tell her.

    Brenby frowns at her parting words, but dismisses them, giving you his full attention. "I will be leaving soon as well," he says.

    You're a little surprised. "What about all of your master's people?"

    Brenby shrugs. "They'll stand on their own, or they won't. I will not be here when Darth Shaed comes looking for me." After a moment, he admits: "Corporal Dee is insisting on accompanying me. I haven't refused."

    "God, you'll get way too broody all on your own," you tell him. Part of you is dismayed by this development, after your talk with your pa'ma. Those people threw in with the last Sith standing... and he's dumping them the moment it's convenient.

    "Too broody?" he asks.

    "You know. Just you, hunched in some dark cave, pouring over that holocron for hours and hours. Not enough food or rest, all dour and serious. She seems like she'll deflate that, a little."

    Brenby doesn't say anything for several long seconds. Then he sighs, the ghost of a smile coming over his face. "You are an absurd creature, Skylah Lavaeolus."

    "But also a loveable one?" you suggest, grinning. When he doesn't disagree, you reach up to ruffle his shaggy blond hair yet again.

    "I would not object to seeing you again," he admits, and your grin widens, until his next words kill the mood a little. "But I must warn you duly: Jyte Blackstar is not dead. My master's private shuttle is missing. She has already fled the planet."

    ==========

    Jyte emerges from the kolto tank, tearing the respirator free from her mouth, heaving in air from the strange medical bay she finds herself in. A cramped, artificial space, one small window showing the void of space without. A medical droid looks up, the unwavering lights of its gaze staring placidly back at her, many ominous implements arrayed on a table behind it.

    Her swordhand, used to take the respirator off, comes into focus: the missing fingers have been replaced by naked cybernetics sheathed in black durasteel. Fascinated and sicked, Jyte flexes them experimentally, even as she hauls herself up to sit on the lip of the tank. Viscous, blue liquid runs off her body, catching in a drain at the base of the tank for recycling. Full range of motion in her hand, at least.

    That babbling idiot of a Jedi or whatever she was would still suffer hideously for this indignity. Her and that lumbering bantha of a Mirialan girl. Both of them would scream before the— At the memory of her duel with the Mirialan Padawan, the one that had nearly killed her, Jyte's hand slaps against her torso. Fingers trace a long, ugly scar that charts the course the lightsaber carved into her chest. Beneath the still-tender skin, Jyte feels an unfamiliar, mechanical vibration. She snarls in mounting rage.

    She'll take that one's eyes first, then see where things go from there.

    "You're awake." Jyte's head jerks up, taking in a small, weaselly sort of man standing in the doorframe. Despite his unassuming appearance, his dark robes and the weapon that hangs at his waist tell Jyte exactly what he is.

    As she drops neatly to the floor, he doesn't so much as spare a glance for her state of undress. "I am Lord Marnn," the man says. "Get dressed. The Dark Lord will see you immediately."

    Jyte nods. That's good, at least. "I am—"

    "It is of no consequence who you are," Marnn says, utterly disinterested. "You arrived here quite nearly dead, on the stolen ship of that weakling Myre. You are an idle curiosity of my master. Until and unless Darth Shaed decides that you will live, you might as well already be a corpse, girl. Stop gawking and get dressed. The Dark Lord is not a patient woman."

    Jyte swallows the worst of her rising indignation. She's sure some still shows on her face — the fact that Marnn doesn't seem to care about that either just makes it harder to get a handle on it. Still, she pushes her damp hair out of her face, and sets about drying off and pulling on the clothes provided for her. They're a plain, grey tunic and pants. Nothing in any way notable. Servant's clothing.

    As she follows Marnn, the murder in Jyte's newly-biomechanical heart is tempered only by an entirely reasonable fear of acting on it. She is in the lair of a Dark Lord of the Sith, unarmed and vulnerable. She's not the largest predator here, and with her master dead, Jyte now lacks even what protection the apprentice of one of Shaed's servants would have enjoyed. Shaed is notorious for being as fickle as she is cruel, and may well have Jyte killed on a mercurial whim. It had been the act of a truly desperate woman to crawl here, begging for shelter.

    Marnn leads her through the darkened hallways of Darth Shaed's private space station in complete silence, shrouded in aloof unconcern. The only sounds are the ringing of their feet on the grated floor, the sound of Jyte's own breathing, and the strange beating of her new heart. This place was an asteroid mining facility in another life. The others they pass — guards and servants — quickly get out of Marnn's way, bowing their heads, barely casting more than a curious glance in Jyte's direction. She imagines she can feel the mighty Sith's presence growing closer and closer as they near the heart of the station. A mounting sense of bone-deep unease, a tingle of danger that won't stop running down Jyte's spine.

    At long last, he stops in front of a large set of double doors. Jyte can't help but feel a powerful sense of foreboding just looking at their dark, featureless enormity. "Try to at least be interesting," Lord Marnn advises. "She could still kill you, but she'll at least be easier for me to live with for a day or two afterward." Then he opens the doors with the press of a button, and steps quickly aside.

    The first thing Jyte sees is the pathetic form of a dismembered protocol droid, little more than a pile of twitching, mangled scrap. "H-H-H-Help me," the droid manages, its single intact photoreceptor staring back up at Jyte. She steps over it without a word, and the doors slam shut behind her.

    "Don't mind the mess!" Calls a cheerful voice. "I got bored a little while ago. Good timing on your part, waking up when you did!" Click, snap. The chamber Jyte is standing in is large, especially for a station. A massive, curving exterior window reveals a barren stretch of asteroid beyond the transparisteel. "Do you know what the worst thing about droids is?" Click, snap.

    A throne — there is no other word for this angular monstrosity of a chair — rises up from the floor in the centre of the room. A figure lounges atop it. Click, snap. Jyte thinks quickly. What comes out of her mouth ends up being the plain, gut level truth from Jyte's perspective. There's no time to think of anything clever. "The sensation is off. And the screams are never as good."

    Click. Darth Shaed slams a small, gloved hand down on the arm of the throne. "Exactly! You get it! It's just not the same!" Snap. She holds her saberstaff unlit in one hand, casually opening and closing the hinge with a flick of her wrist over and over again. An idle tic that nonetheless comes across as incredibly menacing. At its full length, the weapon has a notably long handle covered in the dull sheen of cortosis weave, engraved with runes in several languages. It's beautiful, in its own way.

    "Thank you, Dark Lord," Jyte says through a dry mouth.

    Click, snap. "Oh, don't be too quick to do that." Darth Shaed is a tiny woman, though not inhumanly so. She strikes a deceptively fragile figure, obscured by tight-fitting, elaborately decorated robes and a faceless, brightly-gilded mask. The only thing Jyte can see of her is a head of dark hair — not quite black, but the lighting isn't good enough to tell more — and the eyes. They're a livid, luminous red without pupil or sclera. That gaze sears into Jyte through the holes in the mask as the Dark Lord slowly unfolds herself, dragging her lithe body into a proper upward sitting position. Click, snap. She snaps the saberstaff shut with one final movement.

    "Let's be blunt: you're the apprentice of a man who has failed me utterly. You've limped all the way back here to bleed all over my floor," Shaed says. There's a pause, and Jyte can somehow feel a savage grin spreading across the unseen face behind that mask. "So, I'm all out of droids, aren't I? And like you said: the screams just aren't the same with them anyway! I'm going to give you one chance to convince me not to just have some fun with you and then space what's left. Go ahead!"

    Jyte's mind races. She discards right away bringing up the time and expense of the medical care she's already received. Jyte has been in Shaed's presence for all of a few minutes, and already she would absolutely believe that this woman would pay to have someone healed, just to have the opportunity to laugh as she spaces them. A bold, honest answer had served her well with the first question, even if it was now being turned back around on her. If there's any time to take a risk, it's now... if only because there may be literally no further chances to do so, after this.

    "Because I have people I need to kill, Dark Lord," Jyte says, carefully. "And you're out an apprentice."

    Shaed goes perfectly, unnaturally still in her seat. In that moment, Jyte feels her life balanced in the palm of a capricious hand, tilted this way and that. Then, Shaed throws back her head and cackles. That's the only word for it — high-pitched, shameless, unhinged with mirth. "Oh, I like that!" she decides. Shaed clips her folded weapon to her belt, stretching luxuriously as she rises from her seat.

    "... Thank you, Dark Lord," Jyte says again, not yet trusting that she really has passed this test.

    "Yes," Shaed agrees. "Congratulations — I'm keeping you." She descends from the throne, stopping on a step that still leaves her half a head taller than Jyte. "Oh lighten up, girl. I'm not going to kill you today! What was your name, again?" She'd never asked before this.

    "Jyte Blackstar, Dark Lord," Jyte says, forcing herself to relax centimetre by centimetre.

    "Jyte," Shaed repeats. "Fine. Well, Jyte, your first official task as a Dark Lord's apprentice is to tell me, in detail, what happened on Tyrost. Leave nothing out. I'll know if you're lying." There's the sense of a vicious smile again. "So, no pressure!"

    ==========

    Skylah

    You take hold of the stubborn door of the little storage unit, throwing your entire weight into closing it tightly, until you finally hear it seal properly. You take a moment to glare at it, daring it to come open again and force you to put away all your clothes a second time.

    Your ship feels particularly cramped at this point, its narrow confines smaller than any bedroom you've ever been given. Still, it's yours, when nothing is on fire, and you've turned down Amira's offer to sleep in a spare cabin. Taking a moment to centre yourself here in this quiet space, you go to the airlock and cycle yourself through into the cargo hold of Amira's much larger ship.

    The courier is still small enough that Amira is able to handle it with just herself and an astromech. Speaking of which, you pass X2 and Amira's green-painted droid huddled near a control panel. The green astromech has a data spike inserted into the panel, carefully tuning something before the ship jumps to hyperspace. She responds to X2's critical beeps and whistles with lofty courtesy.

    "Be nice, Ex-Two," you chide him on your way past. He executes the astromech version of an eyeroll, and otherwise completely ignores you. You sigh fondly to yourself. Some things don't change.

    "That model was in active use back in my day," Imperius says, drifting along beside you. "Where did you find an Imperial military astromech that old?"

    "Oh, Ex-Two?" Everyone on the ship knows you're not crazy, just haunted. So it's fine to answer Imperius out loud. "Lots of good stuff flooded the market after the Empire fell. He was in bad shape, but Mom helped me fix him up. She's really good at that kind of thing — maybe that's why he's nicer to her than to everyone else."

    "Eccentric little thing," Imperius says. "It suits you."

    "Hey!"

    "Emperor dying, why do Alderaanians like white this much?" she complains, looking around at the stark white walls, floors, and ceiling of the ship's main hallway.

    "Honestly, it's a nice change of pace from all the gloom back on Tyrost. There are colours other than red and black," you say, with a shrug.

    "Oh, how you shame our ancestors," Imperius intones. Then she quirks an ironic little smile. "Besides: You forgot grey."

    You arrive in the ship's modest bridge in short order. Amira sits in the pilot's seat already, hands at the controls. You flop down into the chair beside hers.

    "I warned Jorden about that Jyte girl. Coming after Avress out of petty revenge sounds like it would be in character." As Amira speaks, she keeps her eyes on the stars outside. You're in orbit above Tyrost now, the planet unfolded beneath you. The claustrophobic weight of the ambient Dark Side energies back on the planet had been so constant, you'd almost stopped noticing. Up here, they're gone, and the wonderful lightness left on your entire being is delightful.

    You know Dromund Kaas will be worse.

    "I thought I wanted to make this trip alone, at first," you say. "Well, with Ex-Two, but he doesn't really care about things like what planet we're on, usually. I'm glad you're coming now, though."

    Amira is quiet for a moment, fiddling with the ship's navicomputer. The hyperdrive is in the middle of warming up. "I'm glad to be able to come along. I've heard there are some fascinating ruins there."

    "Oh, there are," Imperius says from somewhere behind you. "I can recommend some of the less lethal ones, when we get there."

    "Imperius says she can tell us how to find some..." you make a face. "... 'Less lethal' ones."

    "Oh, well, that will be worth following up on!" Amira says, with a bit of actual enthusiasm. "So many of my colleagues balk at making a close study of ancient ruins if Sith were involved at all. It's nice to have someone with actual expertise on-hand." You're a bit less hyped up about that particular idea, but you suppose it will be only fair. She and Imperius sometimes give you the feeling that you're passing notes between two huge nerds.

    "We're ready to jump," Amira advises you. "Strap in."

    Dutifully, you do so. Despite the good friends you made back on Tyrost, you can't honestly say you're sad to leave it behind, all told. You're out here to rediscover your roots, sure, but also to have an adventure — the thrill of that is coming back, a little. Amira pulls back a switch, and you're thrown against your seat as the stars stretch out into endless, glowing lines.

    You can't help it. You grin.

    TO BE CONTINUED
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • Gazetteer said:
    Avress frowns harder. "But—"

    "This is their decision, Avress," Jorden says. "We are not the Sith. We will honour that."

    Avress recoils a little at the comparison. "I wasn't suggesting we kidnap them, Master!"

    "Then you have heard their answer."

    Avress sighs. "Yes, Master."
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    My desire to kidnap Avress intensifies.
    "Eccentric little thing," Imperius says. "It suits you."

    "Hey!"
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    D'aww, she does really like us -- this just dripped with fondness to me.

    ...is it bad that I kinda like Shaed and if we were a different PC I'd wanna meet her? I feel like that's bad.
     
    Gazetteer said:
    "I would not object to seeing you again," he admits, and your grin widens, until his next words kill the mood a little. "But I must warn you duly: Jyte Blackstar is not dead. My master's private shuttle is missing. She has already fled the planet."
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Lightsabers, civilized weapons for a civilized age my ass. It's like they never kill anyone these days.
    That's why you need to double-tap them. No budget Sith survives two blaster bolts scrambling their brains.
    Oh well, round two.

    Ah, Shaed. She's an insane cat lady living in the basement with a butler and all the droids she dismembers for funsies, only a Sith.

    I see Arlunia's rejection has done nothing good for her social prospects, lol.
    Gazetteer said:
    She and Imperius sometimes give you the feeling that you're passing notes between two huge nerds.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Ah, so that's the ship we're going with here. I admit it's a bit unusual... but I welcome the challenge.

    Okay, one episode ends, another begins.

    ... petition to name the next quest "Ruins and Rancors"? :V
     
    So, as previously mentioned, I'm going to take a break from Skylah stuff for a while to focus on my other two projects. In the meantime, this was always intended to be a short quest around this length. I'm going to call this quest complete and start a new thread for the sequel, I'll post the link here when it exists.

    Unlike Petals, this quest is also simple enough that I'm kind of interested in writing an overly long post explaining some decision making behind it.

    So, Fallen Empires began life as a fun little side project I could work on in between the two Petals threads, which has ended up taking a full year to complete anyway. I originally had a different idea for a Star Wars quest -- one about a Sith apprentice on the outs with their master, was considering having it be about a Miraluka so I could be slightly experimental and have to describe everything in terms of their Force Sight. While pitching this to my friend, they made the half joking suggestion to instead write a quest about the child of two characters from a star wars roleplaying campaign we'd finished earlier that year, out on an adventure for this first time.

    Obviously, this was a terrible idea, because I'd essentially be writing something that would have a bunch of references that only me and one other person would appreciate, starring a main character whose family backstory is incredibly convoluted out of context. I did not want to be like "hi, here's our main character, the adoptive daughter of a Sith and a Jedi, who--" I got over these hangups when I realised I could play around with throwing a mostly-established character at people, and only gradually reveal their backstory over time, which seemed fun.

    I got over how self-indulgent it is to trick everyone to reading a sequel to something like that half because I reminded myself that I'm definitely not the only person to do something like this (The Expanse is literally a novelisation of a tabletop campaign right down to a major character dying out of nowhere because his player moved to a different city), and half because I had the vague idea of capturing the general vibe of like, picking a battered Star Wars paperback at random off of a library shelf when you're ten, thinking "I've seen Star Wars!" only to find that this is part five in a series and the third Star Wars series this author has written, and it's referencing years of continuity you've never heard of.

    So, this was context going into the first update. I had a high-level idea of how Skylah was going to be, but the first vote established something important about her relationship to the Force. Serenity would have seen her having gravitated toward a more classically Jedi approach, which would have avoided some hurdles but also would have fared poorly if she couldn't find her calm at points. Fear would have introduced the issue of Skylah having a strong affinity for the Dark Side and having difficulty not reaching for it in times of danger. Hope, which did win, let me lean into her having weird idiosyncrasies and the strange philosophical mishmash of her upbringing.

    The lightsaber vote was both to help shape her lightsaber style and general approach, and to help pick a colour, which is always really important (blue for both of the natural crystal options, red for artificial crystal + Nyx's philosophy, orange for artificial crystal + Arlunia's philosophy -- she was trying for yellow, to match Arlunia's, but messed up and has pretended it was on purpose ever since).

    I've already talked about how that early meeting with Keel was controversial and I fumbled things a little. The vote as to whether to lie to him about being a Sith or a Jedi just had her telling him the truth, but I am still very amused at the idea of her trying to pretend to be a Sith for an extended period of time. There was intended to be a bit of a joke, where obviously whether or not to go with Keel should have been a vote, but Skylah is enough of a sucker for a pretty boy with a problem that she just automatically accept. This made some people upset, at the time. If I were doing this over, I'd honestly just have made Amira be Arlunia's former padawan, so that Skylah could recognise the name and have an additional reason to accept.

    Switching to the other two perspective characters' PoV was in part to experiment a bit with doing that in a quest, but was also a good way to describe Skylah from an exterior point of view or to show things happening that she couldn't be aware of. I had a lot of fun with Avress, even if she's significantly more low key than Skylah, and I was pretty happy that you all more or less threaded the needle in order to endear Skylah to Brenby.

    Hopefully next time, Skylah gets to kiss a boy, though.
     
    Gazetteer said:
    So, as previously mentioned, I'm going to take a break from Skylah stuff for a while to focus on my other two projects. In the meantime, this was always intended to be a short quest around this length. I'm going to call this quest complete and start a new thread for the sequel, I'll post the link here when it exists.
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    Well, this quest was simply delightful, so I will be there when you choose to return to this story! :)
     
    I am the friend in question that Gaz mentions (no prizes for guessing which character each of us played, but I confess a self-indulgent interest in why people would think one or the other).

    I had no actual input into the story of this quest, nor any special insight into anything that wasn't a reference for, again, precisely the two of us. It was all a surprise to me, too! The only thing I did to pitch in was give a couple of lines for my old character, suggest a little bit of the background on things, and some light proofreading. I confess to a certain slight maternal feeling for Skylah, which colored things for me a little!

    Raiseth said:
    Alright, like, I take full responsibility for this piece of crack, but I've had the idea for whole five minutes and it wouldn't leave me, so it must be fate.
    [snip]

    "I mean, obviously not, not what I wanted to say, Jedi don't attach any meaning to such notions as hotness. Not that you aren't hot! Uh, handsome? Attractive? Yeah, attractive!"

    [snip]

    "If I agree, will you stop talking?" Nyx asked, aggravated.

    [snip]

    ————
    Whew, that got longer than I expected from a shitposting omake. Also more serious.
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    ...But, as I mentioned in response to this omake back in June, this really made me giggle. Raiseth here does a lot that's almost how the actual game went, but usually kind of turned around, which I loved. Plus, it was just a fun little story, and a neat new way for me to appreciate things.
     
    VagueZ said:
    ...But, as I mentioned in response to this omake back in June, this really made me giggle. Raiseth here does a lot that's almost how the actual game went, but usually kind of turned around, which I loved. Plus, it was just a fun little story, and a neat new way for me to appreciate things.
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    It was supposed to be crack, but became almost serious halfway through. That's, like, what I thought about how young Arlunia and Nyx could have met based on what I knew about them and Skylah at the time.

    Now I imagine something Arlunia and Nyx and maybe a couple other peeps meeting on Corriban during the start of the campaign and Arlunia, just, crit-failing upholding the Jedi Code and instantly falling in lesbians with the tall, dark and brooding.

    I'd guess Nyx was your PC, because I'm prejudiced against you, lol. Well, I'm a participant in that Exalted quest you run, and Nyx sounds like a character you would play.

    And Skylah is kinda a lot similar to her mom, which would make sense if Gazetteer played as her, since that'd be her roleplaying both characters, so of course they're similar.
     
    Gazetteer said:
    So, as previously mentioned, I'm going to take a break from Skylah stuff for a while to focus on my other two projects. In the meantime, this was always intended to be a short quest around this length. I'm going to call this quest complete and start a new thread for the sequel, I'll post the link here when it exists.

    Unlike Petals, this quest is also simple enough that I'm kind of interested in writing an overly long post explaining some decision making behind it.

    So, Fallen Empires began life as a fun little side project I could work on in between the two Petals threads, which has ended up taking a full year to complete anyway. I originally had a different idea for a Star Wars quest -- one about a Sith apprentice on the outs with their master, was considering having it be about a Miraluka so I could be slightly experimental and have to describe everything in terms of their Force Sight. While pitching this to my friend, they made the half joking suggestion to instead write a quest about the child of two characters from a star wars roleplaying campaign we'd finished earlier that year, out on an adventure for this first time.

    Obviously, this was a terrible idea, because I'd essentially be writing something that would have a bunch of references that only me and one other person would appreciate, starring a main character whose family backstory is incredibly convoluted out of context. I did not want to be like "hi, here's our main character, the adoptive daughter of a Sith and a Jedi, who--" I got over these hangups when I realised I could play around with throwing a mostly-established character at people, and only gradually reveal their backstory over time, which seemed fun.

    I got over how self-indulgent it is to trick everyone to reading a sequel to something like that half because I reminded myself that I'm definitely not the only person to do something like this (The Expanse is literally a novelisation of a tabletop campaign right down to a major character dying out of nowhere because his player moved to a different city), and half because I had the vague idea of capturing the general vibe of like, picking a battered Star Wars paperback at random off of a library shelf when you're ten, thinking "I've seen Star Wars!" only to find that this is part five in a series and the third Star Wars series this author has written, and it's referencing years of continuity you've never heard of.

    So, this was context going into the first update. I had a high-level idea of how Skylah was going to be, but the first vote established something important about her relationship to the Force. Serenity would have seen her having gravitated toward a more classically Jedi approach, which would have avoided some hurdles but also would have fared poorly if she couldn't find her calm at points. Fear would have introduced the issue of Skylah having a strong affinity for the Dark Side and having difficulty not reaching for it in times of danger. Hope, which did win, let me lean into her having weird idiosyncrasies and the strange philosophical mishmash of her upbringing.

    The lightsaber vote was both to help shape her lightsaber style and general approach, and to help pick a colour, which is always really important (blue for both of the natural crystal options, red for artificial crystal + Nyx's philosophy, orange for artificial crystal + Arlunia's philosophy -- she was trying for yellow, to match Arlunia's, but messed up and has pretended it was on purpose ever since).

    I've already talked about how that early meeting with Keel was controversial and I fumbled things a little. The vote as to whether to lie to him about being a Sith or a Jedi just had her telling him the truth, but I am still very amused at the idea of her trying to pretend to be a Sith for an extended period of time. There was intended to be a bit of a joke, where obviously whether or not to go with Keel should have been a vote, but Skylah is enough of a sucker for a pretty boy with a problem that she just automatically accept. This made some people upset, at the time. If I were doing this over, I'd honestly just have made Amira be Arlunia's former padawan, so that Skylah could recognise the name and have an additional reason to accept.

    Switching to the other two perspective characters' PoV was in part to experiment a bit with doing that in a quest, but was also a good way to describe Skylah from an exterior point of view or to show things happening that she couldn't be aware of. I had a lot of fun with Avress, even if she's significantly more low key than Skylah, and I was pretty happy that you all more or less threaded the needle in order to endear Skylah to Brenby.

    Hopefully next time, Skylah gets to kiss a boy, though.
    Click to expand...
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    This is my absolute favorite Star Wars quest, in addition to being one of my favorite quests of all time. It successfully captures everything that was great about KOTOR, OR, and Star Wars in general. The decisions felt less like there were right or wrong answers and more like opportunities to help shape the narrative, which made the narrative less of a puzzle that punished the characters if you guessed wrong and more of a fun ride.

    It was just the right blend of comedy, action, and heartwarming, with loads of Star Wars in-references that don't detract from the narrative if you don't get them. It felt like the very best parts of the franchise, and I loved every bit of it.

    Also, I would read the crap out of the adventures of Jedi/Sith lesbian moms. They were hands down my favorite part.
     
    Raiseth said:
    I'd guess Nyx was your PC, because I'm prejudiced against you, lol. Well, I'm a participant in that Exalted quest you run, and Nyx sounds like a character you would play.

    And Skylah is kinda a lot similar to her mom, which would make sense if Gazetteer played as her, since that'd be her roleplaying both characters, so of course they're similar.
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    To draw the curtain back a little. Z trends toward genuinely heroic characters in terms of roleplaying, as well as well as like... small, bratty women with big personalities.

    I have a real thing for like... villain archetypes, and morally dubious characters who are maybe worth caring about anyway. Characters I've played in the past couple years include but are not limited to:

    - Obsessive necromancer girl
    - Cleric of a dark god
    - A 3000 year old war demon with no moral compass
    - A No Moon Lunar Exalt who leans into the "creepy forest witch" aesthetic
    - A death cleric for a D&D game that never got off the ground

    I have some range beyond that, but probably the closest I've come to the kind of character I usually play as a quest protagonist here is Kana from Petals of Carbon Steel.

    ward201 said:
    This was much better + better written then the exspanse
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    anowack said:
    Well, this quest was simply delightful, so I will be there when you choose to return to this story! :)
    Click to expand...
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    Kaelor said:
    This is my absolute favorite Star Wars quest, in addition to being one of my favorite quests of all time. It successfully captures everything that was great about KOTOR, OR, and Star Wars in general. The decisions felt less like there were right or wrong answers and more like opportunities to help shape the narrative, which made the narrative less of a puzzle that punished the characters if you guessed wrong and more of a fun ride.

    It was just the right blend of comedy, action, and heartwarming, with loads of Star Wars in-references that don't detract from the narrative if you don't get them. It felt like the very best parts of the franchise, and I loved every bit of it.

    Also, I would read the crap out of the adventures of Jedi/Sith lesbian moms. They were hands down my favorite part.
    Click to expand...
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    That's sweet of you all to say!

    The backstory adventures of Arlunia and Nyx exists in like, a thing that can be read/referenced, but it's incredibly not presentable or anything that was meant to share publicly. The narrative could be hammered out into a proper story with a lot of work, but that's not a project either of us art undertaking right now.

    Fun fact: Only Nyx is a lesbian. Arlunia is bisexual.

    13 year old Skylah: "Mom, how do I get boys to like me?"
    Arlunia: "You know, I never actually figured that out either. But then it stopped mattering, eventually. Does that help?"
    Skylah: "... No."
     
    So, I'm not starting the sequel yet, but @VagueZ is actually running a spinoff thread in the same continuity, starring Skylah's grumpy baby brother.

    (This is how Skylah would describe him, not how he would like to be described.)

    forums.sufficientvelocity.com

    Fallen Empires: Shipbreakers and Lightsabers Sci-Fi - Fantasy

    It is three thousand years before the Battle of Yavin. You are Jazt Naht, a Jedi in training. Your Masters, even your family, have always encouraged you to listen to the Code and the will of the Force. It just figures that your first mission makes it hard to do either one.
    forums.sufficientvelocity.com forums.sufficientvelocity.com
     
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    @VagueZ commissioned this image recently, and I am really delighted by how it turned out, the artist is very talented! I just thought that people still following this thread would want to see it.

    I am still planning to do the sequel quest to this one, but I'm knee deep in other projects and having a lot of problems focusing on writing just do to other factors. I've considered posting up a self indulgent little story snippet or something in the meantime, though.
     
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    • Darth Trocia, Dark Lord of the Sith is not an intimidating woman in her bearing; she has the look rather of a middle ranking bureaucrat, or the trusted secretary of a powerful business magnate. The kind of woman who makes filing systems and office functions beg for mercy, rather than people. Unlike many of her contemporaries, Trocia has never particularly minded being underestimated — the expression on a surprised foe in their moment of death is no less delicious, after all.

    She sits at her desk, ensconced in her private quarters aboard her personal warship: the Nightmare, a Harrower III class star destroyer she'd inherited from her master during the Fall of the Sith Empire. Although the ship has not flown in over a decade, slowly being allowed to become overgrown by the jungles of Dromund Kaas, its reactors and various subsystems have been maintained as best as is practical.

    Trocia taps on her lip as she reads the terminal mounted into the desktop. Whatever she reads seems to amuse her, a thin smile creeping over her face.

    She rises, a human gracefully entering her middle years, dressed simply in a red dress that does little to de-emphasise her unremarkable stature, but a good deal to bring out the warm tones in her dark skin. The space she moves through is long and narrow, one wall taken up almost entirely by a transparisteel window showing stormy skies and darkened treetops. Opposite it, on the far side of sensible furniture and a bed that lately held two, is a display case filled with every weapon imaginable. Blasters of all descriptions, swords and spears and knives and pieces of armour. In place of pride at the very top is a row of lightsabers — every item is polished to a gleam, and secured behind a flickering, red rayshield.

    As she leaves her quarters, the guards standing immediately outside come sharply to attention. She ignores them in an approving sort of way, moving through her domain with supreme confidence. Her motley collection of troopers and ship personnel similarly stop what they're doing to show their respect, well aware that she will remember any slight to her authority. Lesser servants bow low. All move out of her way, giving her a wide berth down the blackened durasteel passageways of the ship.

    Her journey takes her down a turbolift, and across most of the ship's lower deck. She knows the Nightmare's layout instinctually, mapping out the most efficient way to reach her destination at all times. Finally, she comes to a large shuttlebay near the front of the ship, and to what she's here for.

    "Dark Lord!" says the most senior of the soldiers clustered around the far wall, giving her a sharp salute. "I didn't expect you in person!"

    "I imagine not, Lieutenant," she says, barely sparing him, or the several other soldiers a glance. Her attention is on the man being held prisoner by the largest of the troopers, forced down to his knees, glaring up at her. He's a classic Imperial beauty in the most traditional sense, complete with red skin and prominent facial ridges. She savours the sight — it isn't every day that one sees a Sith Pureblood being manhandled by a common rifleman. "Draler Aash," she says, putting a name to a face. "As pathetic as ever."

    "I'm surprised you know my name," the prisoner says. With his hands forced behind his back, he's unable to catch the trickle of black blood that flows down from one lip.

    Trocia arches an eyebrow. "My boy, you're part of an endangered species. I don't tend to forget a face like yours, particularly given the... previous circumstances of our acquaintance."

    "You mean when you killed my mother!" He attempts to surge up at her, but is slammed down to the floor with more force than is strictly necessary.

    Trocia meets his baleful, red glare with cool, amber eyes of her own. Then she reaches for the weapon at her belt, igniting it with a distinctive snap-hiss. Draler flinches back as she levels the plasma blade at his throat, the weapon's green glow casting his face into strange shadows. Her voice is perfectly calm: "Yes, that is what I mean. Your mother died like a Sith, with a weapon in her hand — a real Sith, boy, not whatever sad excuse you are. Did you think you were going to break into my ship and get your revenge armed with..."

    "A blaster pistol, Dark Lord," the lieutenant supplies.

    "... with a blaster pistol," Trocia finished.

    "I'm just here for the sword!" he says. He looks away, a dark flush of shame coming into his face. "I know I can't kill you."

    She laughs, a pleasant, giggly sound that nonetheless makes him cringe again. "Darth Aash's only son, the last, ragged scion of a family stretching back to old Korriban... and the best you can manage is becoming an incompetent thief. Maybe I'll let you look at the sword, before I have you thrown into—"

    An alarm cuts through the air, echoing through every deck of the ship, signaling the crew to battle station. At the same time, Trocia's comm unit chims. She wastes no time in extinguishing her lightsaber, putting it away, and drawing out the miniature holocomm. She turns away from Draler Aash as she answers the call. "Yes?"

    Fi's face appears, her alien features as unreadable as ever. "A ship just dropped out of orbit, Dark Lord," she says.

    Trocia lets her face fall into a small frown. "What kind of ship?"

    "A light corvette," Fi says. "They're not wearing it on their sleeve, but I know the make." She imbues the last with a certain significance. Trocia is familiar enough with Nautolan body language to suss out the meaning.

    "A Jedi ship?" Trocia guesses. "Whyever for?" Before Fi can respond, there's a grunt from behind her, the sound of a body hitting the floor, and a metallic slamming sound. Trocia whirls around just in time to see Draler gone, having taken advantage of a moment of inattention from his captor. The triangular wall vent he has just gone through still reverberates from where the grate closed behind him. "Find him!"

    "Yes, Dark Lord!" the lieutenant says, mortified. The soldiers spring into action.

    "Trouble?" Fi asks, her head still holographically projected from the comm.

    "A trifling matter," Trocia says. "Give the order to shoot the ship down, by the way — we do have those turbolaser drills for a reason, after all." The last thing she needs is a Jedi running around her planet.

    The fact that you're not a Jedi is unlikely to have made her feel any better.
     
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