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May The Invisible Hand Be With You - (Star Wars CK2-Style Quest)

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Teron said:
... I'm confused as hell right now. DARK FORCES, DARK FORCES 2: JEDI KNIGHT, JEDI KNIGHT 2: JEDI OUTCAST, JEDI KNIGHT: JEDI ACADEMY. In that order.
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Jedi Knight: ~~~~~, and Jedi Knight 2: ~~~~~ imply a connection yes? One of a sequential pair of games yes? In Steam they are both under the same, Jedi Knight bundle and nothing else. So I assumed academy came first. That's all.
 
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Experimental Equipment No. 2 (Canon)
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    • Experimental Equipment - Report No. 2​
    From: Weapons Engineer M. ST.
    CC: Cheriss Sair
    To: Lady Ciaran

    Subject: Experimental Equipment

    I've gone ahead and continued to improvise and adapt some equipment since me and my colleagues agree with the sentiment that 'unique' equipment is worth the effort even if its solely situational. After all, who expects to have to deal with all this experimental gear?

    Demon Drone: Ultrasonic sounds and sonic shockwaves are one of the few things in the galaxy nobody can handle properly unless they wear good armor and even then the former can be very painfull unless your armor speficialy has the ability to dampen sounds. That is the reason behind this drone I have built. Its ability is to fly from A to B quickly, attach itself to ceilings and assault anyone passing by under it either with Ultrasonic sounds to disorient to sonic shockwaves to injure. Its quite simple, really.
    - Addendum: The Arkanians reminded me to tell you that the ones deciding to use this drone should be very careful if they intend to just incacipate a hostile since they could have the same result as a sonic grenade being used. The two most common examples being the Bith whose heads can explode like a Melon or Sullustans ending up with bleeding ears and gibbering twice as fast as normal.

    Shock Drone: Essentially the same as the Demon Drone, but instead I replaced the sonic emiter with additional batteries and an Arc Thrower to instead shock anyone who gets into range.

    Black Mirror: I actually had to consult some architects and military engineers for this one since I had problems gauging the required force to not blow up entire walls. Essentially, this device can be attached to a wall to blast through it and provide our side a blasterproof glasspane with one way visibility which then, if required can be blasted off as well to start firing. Its simple and not particularly subtle, but helps with visibility especially if used and positioned creativily.

    The blueprints and prototypes have been handed over to Chief Engineer Sair.

    P.S. My wife tells me to tell you to pick up your new dresses next week.

    ((Ignore button, how I love thee. Anyway, more Siege equipment for the Abyss Watchers. I love that stuff.))
     
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    • (Omake) Meditative Waiting (Canon)
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    • Meditative Waiting​

    I awoke to more waiting. The portion of the investigation requiring my talents had seemingly ended for the time being. I was good at waiting. I'd done a lot of it back when I was a medic for Grievous' crew. Come to think of it, being good at waiting was how I'd ended up here--studying and learning the Force, practicing. Getting to be good at what I do and not just able to pull it off sometimes.

    Perhaps I should consider what Masha said about the light side, the dark side.

    I think, to a degree, the Blackguard are right. Understand the Force, understand the universe. Learn the ways of every organization, but without being beholden to any one organization. Even the Blackguard. Even the Matukai. She said that the light and dark are inside you. That's true. The part that's important to your experience is what's inside you. "Lo, for though I walk through a valley filled with Dark Side energy, the light, the words, the companionship give me comfort." There's no story of light and dark where someone turns to the dark without embracing it. It doesn't happen against your will. It draws you in. Keep the light within you, let the dark flow out and stay out, and you will not be taken by the dark.

    Here's the thing with the Blackguard, though. If they say, outright, that no one Force organization understands the Force completely...then by that logic they don't either, and what they say shouldn't be accepted blindly as true. There is a light and dark. They exist, out there, but also in here, and the in here's the more important one.

    I looked at my messages and saw one saying that Masha had sent me something entitled "Battle Meditation".

    "Riphath," she began, "Your unusual arrival to the Force and subsequent skill without strength is fascinating."

    Thanks, Masha. Really know how to flatter a guy. I know I've got noodle Force-arms, no need to rub it in.

    "It's changing how I approach the Force myself. I'm looking at techniques I accomplished with sheer strength and trying to see if there's a more efficient way, a way requiring less power and more cleverness. I went over the records from the Foundry and saw you with your squad. You've been with them a long time. You knew each of them and you knew how to get them to work together."

    Well, it was mostly Grievous, but yeah, they looked to me too I guess, if just as an example of how hard you have to work to keep up with Grievous.

    "This skill should be exactly your style, then. It's called Battle Meditation. Used by the Jedi and the ancient Sith to benefit groups as small as your squad or as large as a full fleet.

    As the Jedi taught it, it's morale, and a means of keeping a group's morale strong, enabling them to call upon their strength. Part of conflict is skill, part of conflict is power, but there is a third part: the will to win. Everybody goes into a fight with an image of victory in their minds. For one, it is shattered by reality. The other adjusts their image to meet their reality and finds victory. Concentrate, and strengthen the hopes of your allies and heighten the fears of your enemies. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

    The ancient Sith, on the other hand, built meditation chambers into their warships, and would seal themselves in, directing these visualizations and imposing their will on the combat. Imposing their wills on their commanded armies to make them work as one.

    The skill itself is fairly simple. You've worked in health care, you might be familiar with guided visualization. Getting people to see an image of success. This is simply creating that image of success and then projecting it to your allies; creating an image of failure and projecting it to your enemies. Whether you guide or dominate your allies, strike your foes with fear or paralyze them with it? Those are up to you.

    You may have been doing this unconsciously with your squad-mates already. There should be sports teams playing on Coruscant you can practice with. Let me know how it works. Masha out."

    Practice on a sports team. Okay, fine. How in death's name do you find a sport on Coruscant? Well, they play Grav-Ball on Coruscant, don't they? I remembered Grav-Ball. I remembered playing striker. Not center-striker. I wasn't a great defender, I wasn't a great passer, and for goodness sakes don't ask me to kick it. You wanted a clean catch-and-release shooter who could score points at will? I was your man. I'd get open, get the ball, and score points.

    I sat on my bed, sensed around for a Grav-Ball game going on. There. I picked a side and focused on it. Projected an image of their wing-striker getting free of his defender, catching a crisp pass, and putting a shot dead on. Every time they got the ball back. Hit the wing-striker and score again. Simple, but if it worked, who needed to complicate it?

    I picked up a vidscreen and flipped it over to grav-ball games. Sure enough, there it was. The Red Rangers were leading the Blue Rontos on the strength of about a dozen scores by their wing-striker Jon Antilles, who the announcers were saying was having the game of his life. The best part was, he wouldn't have a clue why. Just that he got in the zone and everything clicked. Yeah, buddy. You were in the zone. I put you in the zone. I wrote down the game time when I started meditating and the time when I stopped, just so I'd have a record of it.

    It seemed like battle meditation was a really useful skill, and maybe it was only because I was working with like two guys doing something I knew well, but it seemed like I was pretty good at it.

    I sent back a message to Masha.

    "Got your battle meditation message. Found a grav-ball game here on Coruscant and started meditating for the Red Rangers around 11:02 in the first triad, which is about when Jon Antilles started having the game of his life. I used to play grav-ball, back at med school, so I knew what I was looking for. Looking forward to your next lesson. Riphath out."

    Weak but skilled. I could live with that.

    A/N: It seems to me like this would be a hilarious way to make money, at an individual or organizational level: gamble on sports whose outcome you influence from the outside without any actual lines of influence between you and the sport.
     
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    • Snarks poor sanity. I think it broke some time ago allready, but with how many omakes we write while waiting for the updates we may be breaking it even further.
     
    Omakes will continue until the next update. Game balance? What's that again?
     
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    OMAKE FOR THE OMAKE THRONE! SALT FOR THE SALT LANDS! MAY WE DROWN IN THE POSTS OF OMAKES AND SLIDE DOWN THE SALT HILLS OF BONUSES!
     
    Best part is: I'm depressed enough and have enough tea to continue writing for a good couple of days longer. Just ideas is something I'm running out of.
     
    (Omake) Say Uncle (Canon)
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    • Say Uncle​


    "You seem stressed." Silas leaned up against his granddaughter's desk, looking over his shoulder at her.

    "You've seen my schedule. You know what we're up against." Ciaran didn't need to evoke the Sith's name for Silas to know what she was talking about. "I have no shortage of reasons to be a little stressed."

    "Sure, but I thought you were planning the Galactic Games. Unless swoop bikes factor into your plans for saving the galaxy." snarked Silas. "I figured this would be a little bit of fun for you amidst all this craziness."

    "It really should be, but I can't help but think. What if we lose because I spent time planning festivities instead of planning contingencies for preventing the fall of democracy?" Ciaran sighed. "It's the opportunity cost that's stressing me out. That's it."

    Silas quirked an eyebrow at that. "Are you sure it isn't because you have no idea how to plan a Galaxy-wide sporting event?"

    "T-that's a ridiculous idea. Of course I know how to… do… that." she finished weakly. Ciaran winced at how pathetic her excuse sounded, even to her. Silas clearly didn't find it any more convincing.

    "I might not know about planning parties. I think we both remember how my last attempt at a birthday party went." Ciaran shuddered at the memory. "But I think I know a guy who does. I'll get in touch with him, see if he can't lend a professional hand to the Galactic Games."

    Ciaran set down her planning documents and started to protest. "I really don't-"

    "You really do. He'll be able to lighten the load. Let you focus on more important things." Silas paused, giving Ciaran a meaning look. "And he'll make sure things go off without a hitch."

    Ciaran sighed heavily, resigned to conceding the point. "Fine, I'll meet with your contact if you can promise me that he's not my cousin."

    "You know, not everyone in the galaxy is your cousin." complained Silas.

    "I know. You're my grandfather, for example." Ciaran shot back.

    "Hilarious." Silas deadpanned. "Fine, I can promise you that he's not your cousin."

    "Excellent. Have PR-1 add him to the schedule once you get a meeting set up." Business finished, Ciaran returned to her work for a moment before grimacing. "Actually, I think I'll work on something else. I'd hate to waste effort before the expert can weigh in."


    XXX​


    Ciaran enjoyed meeting people as their shuttle landed. It was a nice concession, letting the other person know she valued them enough to come and meet them. On the practical side of things, it saved time being able to do business the moment they touched down on the planet.

    The exit walkway descended, and a line of passengers made their way off the ship. Travelers not well enough off to afford their own private ships, but not poor enough to ride with the huddled masses. It wasn't long before Silas pointed out their party planning expert. Silas waved him over, and the man nodded in recognition before making his way through the crowd.

    He was a Zeltron, though Ciaran had trouble telling at first. While the race was renowned for their love of festivities, they were equally infamous for fashion sense that evaded the rest of the galaxy. Most dressed in painfully bright colors and bizarre patterns, showing lots of skin and heavily implying the shape of what they covered.

    In contrast to every Zeltron Ciaran had met, this man was dressed in a subdued, no-nonsense manner. It was nothing out of the ordinary for businessmen on Coruscant, but it wouldn't be a surprise of other Zeltron mocked him for poor fashion sense.

    "Silas! How are you doing?" he opened his arms wide as he approached, embracing Silas. Ciaran's grandfather returned the gesture, though not quite as enthusiastically.

    "Doing just fine." They separated "Work treating you well?"

    "Never better. Professional party planners get a lot of work on Zeltron, who knew?" he replied sarcastically.

    Silas turned to introduce his old friend to Ciaran. "This is Ray. He's a Program Coordinator at one of the most respectable Zeltron festivity planners. Mostly planning parties for rich people, the Zeltron government, that sort of thing."

    "Quite the resume." said Ciaran appreciatively. "Though I'm curious about how someone 'respectable' would have met a scoundrel like Silas."

    "His daughter was getting married, and yours truly was in charge of preparing the wedding." explained Ray. "Old dog kept his eye on me the whole time to make sure nothing went wrong."

    "Do you plan a lot of weddings?" asked Ciaran, keeping up small talk until they reached her personal ship that would ferry them to her offices. It wouldn't do to discuss confidential plans, even for relatively inconsequential things, out in the open.

    "Nah, I mostly handle bigger stuff." Said Ray, tossing his hand up dismissively. "But I didn't really trust anyone else to get it right. Only get one shot at your own wedding, am I right?"

    Ciaran stopped dead in her tracks. Ray almost bumped into her, holding his hands up as if to stop from bowling her over. Ciaran turned to Silas and took a deep breath. "Okay, before you start…" began Silas.

    "You said-"

    "I said he wasn't your cousin, and he isn't." said Silas, cutting Ciaran off.

    "Never told me you had more kids. We should get together sometime, I'd love to plan a family reunion!" said Ray, raising his hands just in front of his face and quickly clapping them together. Ciaran couldn't tell if he was mocking the idea or genuinely excited.

    "Probably not the best idea." Cautioned Silas. "It would be a little awkward for reasons that may or may not be related to why I'm no longer legally allowed in the Ryloth system."

    "We'll put a pin in it." said Ray dismissively before turning to Ciaran. "So you're my niece, huh? Well, how about a hug then? As a sign of affection for Uncle Ray?" Ray leaned back and held his arms out to the sides expectantly.

    "We'll put a pin in it." said Ciaran, echoing Ray's earlier words. Ray had certainly been amicable for as long as Ciaran had known him, but she had only known her uncle for a matter of minutes. Looking somewhat dejected, Ray followed Ciaran into the private ship. "Now about business, how would you like to help plan the Galactic Games?"

    Ciaran had been smiling already, knowing that it was the gig of a lifetime. Ray's grin quickly grew to match her own. "Oh, I think we can make this work."




    AN: All these cousins imply a downright enormous extended family, but we didn't have a single (blood related) uncle yet. So I figured I'd throw in Galvin's dad. Kudos to whoever can guess the inspiration for Ray Thorn.
     
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    • Panory said:
    Say Uncle​


    "You seem stressed." Silas leaned up against his granddaughter's desk, looking over his shoulder at her.

    "You've seen my schedule. You know what we're up against." Ciaran didn't need to evoke the Sith's name for Silas to know what she was talking about. "I have no shortage of reasons to be a little stressed."

    "Sure, but I thought you were planning the Galactic Games. Unless swoop bikes factor into your plans for saving the galaxy." snarked Silas. "I figured this would be a little bit of fun for you amidst all this craziness."

    "It really should be, but I can't help but think. What if we lose because I spent time planning festivities instead of planning contingencies for preventing the fall of democracy?" Ciaran sighed. "It's the opportunity cost that's stressing me out. That's it."

    Silas quirked an eyebrow at that. "Are you sure it isn't because you have no idea how to plan a Galaxy-wide sporting event?"

    "T-that's a ridiculous idea. Of course I know how to… do… that." she finished weakly. Ciaran winced at how pathetic her excuse sounded, even to her. Silas clearly didn't find it any more convincing.

    "I might not know about planning parties. I think we both remember how my last attempt at a birthday party went." Ciaran shuddered at the memory. "But I think I know a guy who does. I'll get in touch with him, see if he can't lend a professional hand to the Galactic Games."

    Ciaran set down her planning documents and started to protest. "I really don't-"

    "You really do. He'll be able to lighten the load. Let you focus on more important things." Silas paused, giving Ciaran a meaning look. "And he'll make sure things go off without a hitch."

    Ciaran sighed heavily, resigned to conceding the point. "Fine, I'll meet with your contact if you can promise me that he's not my cousin."

    "You know, not everyone in the galaxy is your cousin." complained Silas.

    "I know. You're my grandfather, for example." Ciaran shot back.

    "Hilarious." Silas deadpanned. "Fine, I can promise you that he's not your cousin."

    "Excellent. Have PR-1 add him to the schedule once you get a meeting set up." Business finished, Ciaran returned to her work for a moment before grimacing. "Actually, I think I'll work on something else. I'd hate to waste effort before the expert can weigh in."


    XXX​


    Ciaran enjoyed meeting people as their shuttle landed. It was a nice concession, letting the other person know she valued them enough to come and meet them. On the practical side of things, it saved time being able to do business the moment they touched down on the planet.

    The exit walkway descended, and a line of passengers made their way off the ship. Travelers not well enough off to afford their own private ships, but not poor enough to ride with the huddled masses. It wasn't long before Silas pointed out their party planning expert. Silas waved him over, and the man nodded in recognition before making his way through the crowd.

    He was a Zeltron, though Ciaran had trouble telling at first. While the race was renowned for their love of festivities, they were equally infamous for fashion sense that evaded the rest of the galaxy. Most dressed in painfully bright colors and bizarre patterns, showing lots of skin and heavily implying the shape of what they covered.

    In contrast to every Zeltron Ciaran had met, this man was dressed in a subdued, no-nonsense manner. It was nothing out of the ordinary for businessmen on Coruscant, but it wouldn't be a surprise of other Zeltron mocked him for poor fashion sense.

    "Silas! How are you doing?" he opened his arms wide as he approached, embracing Silas. Ciaran's grandfather returned the gesture, though not quite as enthusiastically.

    "Doing just fine." They separated "Work treating you well?"

    "Never better. Professional party planners get a lot of work on Zeltron, who knew?" he replied sarcastically.

    Silas turned to introduce his old friend to Ciaran. "This is Ray. He's a Program Coordinator at one of the most respectable Zeltron festivity planners. Mostly planning parties for rich people, the Zeltron government, that sort of thing."

    "Quite the resume." said Ciaran appreciatively. "Though I'm curious about how someone 'respectable' would have met a scoundrel like Silas."

    "His daughter was getting married, and yours truly was in charge of preparing the wedding." explained Ray. "Old dog kept his eye on me the whole time to make sure nothing went wrong."

    "Do you plan a lot of weddings?" asked Ciaran, keeping up small talk until they reached her personal ship that would ferry them to her offices. It wouldn't do to discuss confidential plans, even for relatively inconsequential things, out in the open.

    "Nah, I mostly handle bigger stuff." Said Ray, tossing his hand up dismissively. "But I didn't really trust anyone else to get it right. Only get one shot at your own wedding, am I right?"

    Ciaran stopped dead in her tracks. Ray almost bumped into her, holding his hands up as if to stop from bowling her over. Ciaran turned to Silas and took a deep breath. "Okay, before you start…" began Silas.

    "You said-"

    "I said he wasn't your cousin, and he isn't." said Silas, cutting Ciaran off.

    "Never told me you had more kids. We should get together sometime, I'd love to plan a family reunion!" said Ray, raising his hands just in front of his face and quickly clapping them together. Ciaran couldn't tell if he was mocking the idea or genuinely excited.

    "Probably not the best idea." Cautioned Silas. "It would be a little awkward for reasons that may or may not be related to why I'm no longer legally allowed in the Ryloth system."

    "We'll put a pin in it." said Ray dismissively before turning to Ciaran. "So you're my niece, huh? Well, how about a hug then? As a sign of affection for Uncle Ray?" Ray leaned back and held his arms out to the sides expectantly.

    "We'll put a pin in it." said Ciaran, echoing Ray's earlier words. Ray had certainly been amicable for as long as Ciaran had known him, but she had only known her uncle for a matter of minutes. Looking somewhat dejected, Ray followed Ciaran into the private ship. "Now about business, how would you like to help plan the Galactic Games?"

    Ciaran had been smiling already, knowing that it was the gig of a lifetime. Ray's grin quickly grew to match her own. "Oh, I think we can make this work."




    AN: All these cousins imply a downright enormous extended family, but we didn't have a single (blood related) uncle yet. So I figured I'd throw in Galvin's dad. Kudos to whoever can guess the inspiration for Ray Thorn.
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    A quirky Uncle Ray that likes to ask for hugs? I smell the best Ace Attorney game up in here.

    Edit: Just registered that you referenced his animations multiple times. That's a dedication that I can appreciate.
     
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    AlysPower said:
    A quirky Uncle Ray that likes to ask for hugs? I smell the best Ace Attorney game up in here.
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    I got the idea for this about the same time I reached case 2. I really wanted to put Joking Motive in there, but that would have given it away too easily. As promised, one kudos.

    Also, Joking Motive not being localized is a crime.
     
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