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

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Whumbly said:
-An Exchange Database, with holo-recordings G0-T0's manipulating the Republic and the Galactic Economy.
-The ruins of Shadow Town, an Imperial Intelligence (Sith Empire) High Security Prison where all those agents and operatives too dangerous to be left to roam free and too good at what they do to kill.
-A ruined Brotherhood of Darkness Sith Academy that specialised in training Sith Assassins.
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... :o

That's a lot of cool places I didn't know about.
Whumbly said:
There are three other possibilities I can think of the top of my head:
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Off the top of your head?! Holy mackerel, I may need to do a second sweep through Nar Shaddaa to see what else I missed.
 
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Could have also found a lost Evocai tribe thats hidden in the lower levels, eking out a living from the scraps that drop from above.

Or they could have found an ancient Hutt board that's been lost to time.

Or hell, something incredibly weird. My brain doesn't wanna work with me right now, but I'm certain Starwars has some weird shit in it.
 
Doomed Wombat said:
Know what it is?

The only idea I have is something relating to Plagius?
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Given his healing/biological manipulation specialty...Oh god, Plaguis left a clone baby behind didn't he.

He totally would have had a custom clone in the works. Either Silencer v2 (If you want something done right, do it yourself) or something else.

And just when we were talking about Ciaran having a kid.
 
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(Omake) Merging Martial Might & Medicine (Pt.1) (Canon)
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    • Merging Martial Might & Medicine (part 1)
    ​
    I was headed back to Tython. I'd discussed my cover, such as it was, with Gulan, and we'd agreed that it would probably be beneficial for me to come with some common medical supplies. Fluids, antibiotics, and the like. Commodity level stuff that would be useful and gone through and would create good will if...yeah, okay, fine, when my cover as a private citizen inevitably ended up blown and I became something of an unofficial ambassador / envoy.

    This would do great things for our position with most of the Tython Jedi but would probably mean Darra would never want to talk to me. Then again, considering we hadn't spoken yet, that might or might not even be a bad thing. Yeah, okay, I'm nervous, and when I get nervous I start thinking faster and more wildly. On the plus side, it provides a defensive layer of surface thoughts if there's any Jedi with wandering minds looking at mine.

    Master Veskasa's words seemed to echo through my mind. Concentrate not on the failure and its fallout, but on success and its spoils. Your focus determines your reality. Shape the present in each moment and when you look back in time you will understand how you have shaped the future.

    If I wasn't going to come up on Tython in the next hour or two I might try another round of the lightsaber katas that Masha had taught me. "Improve your skills, improve your connection to the Force. You're looking at a lot of hard work. Probably years before you get anywhere near the level of strength or lightsaber skill an average Jedi Knight walks around with, but with your Matukai techniques you shouldn't run into much in terms of physical aging to slow you down."

    I took a deep breath, pushed the nervousness from my mind, blew out the breath. I was going to go flirt with a handicapped badass who was also cute, and I was going to get to do that on the company decicred.

    The proximity alarm brought my out of my reverie and let me know I was coming up on Tython. If anybody ever asks, I'm totally going to deny anything like a crush. Buuuuuut that's probably what it is. Stupid, stupid caregiver effect.

    The comm lit up, letting me know that Tython Tower Control wanted a word. "Tython Tower Control, this is Angel of Mercy," I hailed them.

    "Angel of Mercy, glad to see you again. Docking bay 6 this time," the controller on duty informed me.

    I brought the ship in to land and smiled as it handled beautifully. Getting a Curich-class was a stroke of genius.

    The Jedi on what probably passed for customs duty nodded as I came down the loading ramp. "You're back, with what looks like more supplies."

    I grinned. "First time I could get a couple days off. Had a bit of a rough month. Lot of work. Felt like I had vornskrs at my heels half the time. Thought I might swing by, maybe even stay a little while and contemplate the Force." Every word I said was true, but I doubted he'd suspect I'd been to Myrkr.

    The Jedi laughed. "I've had my share of those. Why don't you go take those over to the Healers?" I was carrying a bit of my own money and figured anything I got while on Tython I could expense, within reason. I might just stay a little while.

    I telekinetically picked up the supplies and headed over that way, smiling and waving to the Jedi milling around who recognized me from last time.

    The Jedi Healer I'd spoken with last time recognized me and waved me over. "Good to see you again. I was worried you weren't coming back."

    I shook my head. "Rough month. Feels like I've walked five thousand klicks since I was here last." Completely true.

    The Healer smiled warmly. "All the prosthesis procedures worked out pretty well, including Darra's neural bridging. She's been getting...agitated isn't the right word. Call it...ready to get back into the field? Restless. She knows there's a lot of pain in the galaxy and she's finally in the condition to actually be able to do something about it. She's been pushing her rehabilitation schedule forward with the amount of effort she's been going to. I was thinking about clearing her for active duty soon, but I'd been holding back because I knew you'd want to see her at least once." He cleared his throat. "By the way...where'd you get all this stuff?"

    I smiled. "I do a bit here and there for the Silver Cross, and my Silver Cross ID got me a discount on some Karada basics. I've paid off my student loans, I've got a ship and a few little spots in the galaxy I can lay my head. I don't wonder how I'm getting my next meal. I'm financially comfortable and I make more money than I can spend. Okay, than I can conscionably spend. I might as well turn my wealth towards the benefit of others. The Jedi still on Coruscant have their needs met by Republic funding, both direct and through the Gee Ay Arr. As I understand it, here on Tython you're a bit more interested in understanding the Force and possibly serving the people independently of the Republic?"

    The Healer tilted his head. "Well...you should probably talk to the other members of the Tython Council about that. They've been debating the role of the Jedi for a while. I...admit I am of two minds on the subject. On the one hand, I agree that we should consider our place within the galaxy, both as people trying to understand the Force and people trying to live within the galaxy. On the other hand...you leave a wound infected, you get sepsis, gangrene, tissue death, some foul-smelling mix of each. You clean the wound and provide some antibiotics, you're good as new in a little while."

    I nodded. "I get the metaphor, yeah. Understand as many different perspectives on the Force as you can, come to a greater understanding of the galaxy, and work to intervene within the galaxy you live in. That blend of understanding and intervention with the assistance of those with more experience should work to make students aware of the dark side and its perils. Awareness of one's flaws, forgiveness and guidance towards making the galaxy a better place on both a cosmic and temporal scale...now, I'm not a Jedi, but that seems like the way forward."

    The Healer smiled, stroking his full brown beard as his eyes seemed to twinkle. "We should talk further about this. Preferably when I'm near a datapad or something so I can write this stuff down. It's a little out-of-the-box for some of my colleagues, but it's close enough to the box as to make them not necessarily uncomfortable. What tradition is it that you're from again?"

    I might just have something here. "Matukai, primarily, but I have a friend who was something of a nomadic Force scholar and she showed me a few things, including a little bit about lightsaber use," I said, patting the hilt on my belt, "enough that I felt it would be good to build my own." Still true. I'll admit I danced around Masha being a Blackguard, but I also don't believe everything she says.

    "Matukai. The martial artists, who develop a connection to the Force in beings many Jedi would overlook," the Healer offered, "focusing the Force through their own physical form."

    I nodded. "Yes."

    The Healer laughed. "Perfect. Darra needs to realize there's a long way to go between being day-to-day functional and being combat-ready. She's in room three-cresh. Tell her if she beats you in an unarmed spar I'll clear her for active duty."

    I blinked. "Uh..." Are you kidding me?! She's a full-fledged Jedi Knight, and she's not hampered by her prosthetics. She'll kick my ass. I did not sign up for this!

    The Healer smirked. "You're concerned a twenty-two year old right-sided double amputee will beat you in a fair fight. You're, what, in your early thirties?"

    I shook my head. "Late thirties," I lied. It was a lie I'd become comfortable with, that I was a well-preserved thirty-five year old, one that I put forward to make sure people would take me seriously, a lie that was as normal to me as breathing. Publicly, I was 35 and I'd tell everybody that was my official age. In truth I was about ten years younger than that, and I tried to keep that knowledge to myself. "I'm concerned she, who's been in Jedi training for like twenty years, is going to embarass me. I was a combat medic for a little over a year, which mostly consisted of cowering behind a bunch of badass soldiers, taking potshots with a blaster, and trying to keep my platoon alive best I could. I've only studied the Force for...a little under a year, and it was only within the last...three or four months that I started doing the Matukai thing full-time, more or less." I didn't mention that those soldiers were Kaleesh. "Twenty years of Jedi experience versus a year as a medic and a year learning the Force. You tell me who wins that fight." When phrased like that, it was a wonder I was still alive.

    "Depends. How do you want her to respect and appreciate you? As a squishy wizard who needs protecting, or as a potential ally and partner? You want to do that and do it right, you find a way to be a good match," the Healer challenged.

    I looked back at the door. "All right. Fine. Should be an interesting puzzle for me, since most of my fights tend towards lethal and I kinda want her to be able to get up and kick butts after we're done."

    The Healer smiled. "Something you'll figure out together." Something at the back of my head told me he was actually rooting for there to be an us, me and her. Oh, druk.

    I headed over to room three-cresh and there she was. Darra Thel-Tanis, in the flesh--and cybernetics covered in synthflesh. I swear, my brain latches onto the weirdest things.

    A/N I'll admit I tend to write stream-of-consciousness and it took Riphath a while on Tython to actually meet Darra despite that being a large part of his purpose in taking the trip.

    My bias towards making omakes more bite-sized argued with my desire for this to not be narratively segmented. I wanted to see where the story went, so part two should be found below.
     
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    • Help Me Obi-Wan Kenobi​


    Obi-Wan occasionally wished that he hadn't been stationed on Mandalore. There wasn't much that made him long for the sound of blasters and the smell of smoking metal and the hum of his lightsaber, but the proposition of an awkwardly romantic dinner with Satine made the heart grow fonder for the frontlines. At least war was simple.

    Granted, the invitation had officially been for a dinner with Ciaran, but he knew this trick. It was far more humorous when Anakin and Padme were on the receiving end. Dinner itself would be uncomfortable in the moment, and not even the Force could help him if Siri found out. Still, there was no reason to show up in his more war-torn Jedi robes, so Obi-wan had combed his rather limited wardrobe for robes that weren't generously described as scruffy looking.

    The Jedi Master took a deep breath and opened the door, prepared for his fate. "Hello there. What a surprise…" Obi-wan trailed off and paused a moment as he opened his eyes to see none other than Ciaran sitting down at the head of the table. "-to actually see you here."

    "I invited you. Why wouldn't I be here?" asked Ciaran, sounding somewhat confused and impatient.

    "Well, it's just that I expected you to trick me into some kind of romantic setting with Satine." explained Obi-wan, caught flat footed. "It seems like the kind of thing you'd do."

    "What, because I've done the same thing to Anakin and Padme?" said Ciaran, sounding irritated. "Well first off, I'm offended you think I'm that predictable. And second of all, I do occasionally handle matters of some importance, and I don't think it's absurd that I might want your input."

    Obi-wan cleared his throat. "Yes, well… uh, I'm happy to help. Or at least hear you out."

    Ciaran gestured for him to take a seat next to her, despite the massive length of the table. "I want to help you." she said simply as he sat down.

    Obi-wan raised an eyebrow in suspicion. He knew how Ciaran operated. "You mean you want to help yourself."

    "They're not mutually exclusive." Ciaran quickly replied. "You no doubt know that my position and… connections make me aware of a great deal. I recently caught wind of a Sith Lord pulling the strings of this war."

    "Yes, well that' hardly a surprise. Count Dooku hasn't exactly been subtle about his allegiance to the Dark Side." said Obi-wan.

    "Count Dooku may be a Sith, but what is that Jedi saying? There are always two?" asked Ciaran, waiting for Obi-wan's response.

    "A Master and an Apprentice. The Master trains the Apprentice, who in turn kills his Master and takes an Apprentice of his own. A cycle of violence and bloodshed befitting the Sith." Obi-wan shook his head. "But Dooku's Apprentice was struck down on Naboo, years ago. He took another, but Ventress was killed in the war. I have no doubt he's searching for another Apprentice, but for now there is only one Sith."

    "Dooku wasn't Maul's Master, he was Maul's replacement." said Ciaran. "Dooku's Master is still out there, undetected. Plotting this entire war for his own gain."

    Obi-wan leaned forward in concern. "How do you know this?"

    "I could lay out all the evidence for you, but we'd be here for hours. Besides, the Jedi Council already suspects another Sith to be pulling strings in the Republic, influencing the Chancellor." The intensity in the air was palpable, and the two had leaned conspiratorially forward so far they were mere inches apart.

    Obi-wan finally broke the silence and leaned back, taking a deep breath as he did so. "It's true. The Dark Side has hidden them from us, but there's no way Dooku would have made the presence of the Sith known so openly without a back up plan. Combined with the Chancellor's efforts to escalate the war, and it's obvious someone is influencing him with the Dark Side."

    "I have a name, if you're willing to trade for it." said Ciaran, he breath hitching as she waited for Obi-wan's response.

    "You what?" She wasn't waiting long. "How?"

    "It's not particularly difficult if you have my resources and know what to look for. I'm a rather shady individual myself, so I'm adept at spotting how things that seem above reproach are the filthiest of all." Ciaran hadn't let an iota of nonchalance slip into her serious tone, which was unusual for Obi-wan's dealings with her.

    "You said you'd trade for it?" Now that Obi-wan had a chance to process the rest of her proposal, his temper began to grow. "Are you mad? Are credits so important to you that you'd jeopardize the entire galaxy for a handful?"

    "I never said I'd trade for credits. I want a promise from you, Obi-wan Kenobi, that you will not act on the information I give you." said Ciaran, not flinching in the face of an angry Jedi.

    "You expect me to just let the Sith run rampant and destroy the Republic? How can you even ask that of me?"

    "You suspected there was another Sith Lord because Dooku wouldn't be foolish enough to bring the Sith out of hiding without a back-up plan. Do you think less of his Master? If Darth Sidious is removed without a great deal of precautions, he will bring the entire Republic down around our ears and see the Jedi slaughtered to a man." Ciaran dropped Palpatine's Sith title without a second thought. It was useless on its own anyways.

    "So what, we just sit here and do nothing?" Obi-wan's voice was strained now that his anger had no direction. Ciaran counted that a step in the right direction, but not by much.

    "I'm taking steps to defuse his plans, and I'm making excellent progress if I do say so myself. But he's nothing if not thorough, and if he suspects what I'm doing, he'll set off what he has left, and we lose anyways." Saying it aloud, Ciaran couldn't help but sound tired. This whole affair was… exhausting. She'd give up a lot to return to simpler times, where dodging Sector Security was the biggest issue she had to deal with.

    "So you want me to act only once you can be sure every last one of his timebombs has been defused..." Obi-wan stroked his beard in contemplation.

    "Ideally, I'd also ask you to help in dealing with some of his plans. A lightsaber and the Force are awfully good at dismantling things." Ciaran grinned a bit to lighten the mood. "But at the end of the day, I want you as my contact inside the Jedi Council. I want to be able to message you a location and have the entire Jedi Council come crashing down on that bastard's head within the hour."

    "The hardest part will be waiting." said Obi-wan, still not completely won over on the idea of not igniting his lightsaber and storming off the instant he got a name. "You have a deal, Lady Ciaran. Who is this Sith Lord?"

    "Darth Sidious, or as you'd know him, Sheev Palpatine."Ciaran always felt a rush of relief when someone new was informed of the secret. The feeling that she wasn't alone in all this was priceless.

    "The Chancellor? That's impossible. He's already the most powerful man in the galaxy." said Obi-wan in disbelief. "He's being manipulated by a Sith, but there's no way he himself is one."

    Ciaran sighed at the frustration of not being believed. "He won't be secure enough to reveal himself until every threat is gone. Until he has so much power that no one can oppose him. Until the entire Jedi Order is wiped out. And if he's not stopped, I give it two years at most before he accomplishes all of that."

    "Why are you doing this?"

    "Pardon?"

    "Why are you going through so much effort to save the Republic and the Jedi?" repeated Obi-wan. "It's an open secret you aren't a law-abiding citizen. It sounds as if Palpatine would tear down everything that might oppose you."

    "Because I'm selfish. Because the same corruption and inefficiency that allowed Sheev Palpatine, Dark Lord of the Sith, to become Chancellor allowed me to become filthy rich. Because I've accidently opposed him for so long he already saw me as an enemy by the time I learned that he existed." Ciaran paused a moment, as if considering her next words carefully. "Because, at the end of the day, his vision of the galaxy would see many people I care about dead, and I don't want that."

    "Somehow, I find that more convincing than any kind of moral platitudes you might have attempted." Said Obi-wan, a smirk on his face despite how dire the situation was. "If you had said 'because he's evil' I would have suspected you were up to something."

    "I'm always up to something, Obi-wan. Suspecting me of something in just good business." Ciaran joked back.

    "I don't know if I buy that." said Obi-wan. "You've done a great deal of good in the galaxy."

    "A great deal of good that's benefitted me a great deal." replied Ciaran. "Everything I do benefits me. It might benefit others. It might benefit others more than me, but it always benefits me."

    "Well, I think the end of the Sith benefits us all." Said Obi-wan, rising from his seat. "I wouldn't worry too much. After all, Sith Lords are my specialty."

    "I sincerely hope you've gotten better at it since the last time you 'killed' a Sith." said Ciaran. "It didn't quite stick as well as you'd hoped."

    "Wait, what?"



    AN: You're my only hope. I mean, not my only hope, but you'd still be very useful to have around. I'm a little sad we didn't nab Obi-wan, but I understand why. Have a little what-if/maybe canon if we get to it next turn.
     
    (Omake) Merging Martial Might & Medicine (Pt. 2) (Canon)
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    • Merging Martial Might & Medicine, part 2​

    I'd seen pictures of Darra in her Abyss Watchers dossier. I'd seen a few in her Jedi medical record. None of those did any justice to the real thing, my brain cataloging everything for later review and trying to isolate it while seeing the whole thing within moments.

    The first thing I saw when I met Darra Thel-Tanis was her hair and how it seemed to shimmer in the light, the way it flowed around her face as she turned to face me. Okay, good. Hair healthy, body healthy, takes care of herself. I couldn't quite tell you what color it was--I'm a doctor, not a painter--but I'd probably hedge in a rusty-coppery-auburn direction.

    The second thing I noticed was the athletic grace, the economy of movement she turned with. Druk. She's gonna kick my ass. But won't that be fun?

    The third thing I noticed was her eyes. I'd been told by a few patients back on Byblos that I seemed to be studying them, looking at them and around them and through them all at once. This was the first time I'd noticed that sort of gaze turned on me. Yeah, totally not nervous that she's going to do some kind of 'you have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting' thing.

    "Green robe. Five Oh First jacket. The Jedi don't do fashion statements. Who are--oh. Master Healer Rogan Sorenn told me you were to thank for my new limbs. You're here in person, so you want something you've paid an arm and a leg for. I won't be bought."

    Damn but she was quick. And cynical. There was a lot of pride and integrity in her tone, as well as a certain dark sense of humor.

    I blinked. I wasn't expecting her to move that quickly. "Master...Rogan," I said, mentally connecting the name to the brown-bearded face, "sent me to inform you that your rehab is complete and you're ready for active duty on one condition."

    Darra's body language seemed to change almost instantly. Her closed posture and air of suspicion gave way to something like hope. "What is it? I've passed all his fitness challenges."

    I schooled my features into a beatific smile. "His final challenge is unarmed sparring against me. He probably figures I'm a fair proxy for whatever goons you might run into."

    Darra eyeballed me, almost dismissively. "Shouldn't be too hard. You're a doctor, not a warrior."

    I silently and motionlessly thanked all my years of med school for teaching me how to maintain something of a sabacc face. "Perhaps we should find somewhere a little bit private where you won't embarass me in front of the entire planet?"

    "Hmm...the outer courtyard of Kaleth. It's less than a klick west of here but we won't be interrupted," she answered, "probably."

    I kept my benign smile. "Lead the way. I'm still new here, after all."

    Darra gestured me out of her room. I stepped out and she shut the door. I heard getting-dressed sounds and tried to not let my mind fill in the gaps, pushing it instead to consider what rules we should put on our spar. Obviously no weapons and nothing intent-to-kill with the Force. Tap out or area out, I think. Unlike Grievous' exercise, though, the whole purpose here is to fight her straight-up, so probably no shenanigans.

    A few moments later her door opened and she walked out, appearing every centimeter the Jedi she wanted to be. "This way. You already have my name, but I'm afraid I don't have yours."

    I smiled. "Beat me and I'll tell you."

    She smirked back at me as we walked. "So you'll tell me in about ten minutes. Eight to walk over there and two for you to yield."

    I laughed nervously. "Maybe?" I started slowly and gradually drawing on the Force, calling on that fire, but at a low and invisible.

    "Well, at least you're in good spirits about it," she observed.

    I grinned. "If I win, I've managed to best a Jedi in single combat. If I lose, I was involved in restoring a Jedi Knight to her full capability and associate my name in her mind with good feelings. Either way I come out ahead."

    Darra stopped mid-stride. "You sound like...nah. Whatever twisty dejarik-master plans you might have, you're not her."

    I blinked. "Ex-lover?" I guessed with a smirk, deliberately errant and deliberately playful in tone. Pre-sparring wordplay to get under your opponent's skin was pretty common throughout the galaxy.

    "She wishes, I'm sure," Darra all but hissed. "Manipulative rankweed sucker's why I got the aftermarket body parts," she growled, blowing out a breath. "The...other set. These ones are nice, though. No, I don't go that way."

    I sighed with relief. "So you're telling me there's a chance," I drawled. She just stared at me with disdain.

    I couldn't keep a straight face at that, but realized the ruins had just come into view. "My gratitude for the location. I should be able to limp back and put myself back together without too many people noticing."

    The courtyard was beautiful. A few walls and a few statues remained, worn through the years. The grasses had started to grow around them, one wall covered in vines.

    I blew out a breath. "All right...how's this sound for terms: unarmed, not trying to kill each other. Force your opponent outside the walls without telekinesis or get them to yield and you win."

    Darra blinked. "Seems fair enough." She unclipped her lightsaber and set it by one of the remaining pillars, doffing her robe.

    I unholstered my blaster, double-checked the safety, and put it next to a different pillar. I then pulled my wan-shen out, gathered it up, and set it next to my blaster. Finally, I unhooked my lightsaber, set it by my other weapons before doffing my robe and jacket.

    I could all but feel Darra staring at me, her assessment of me shifting with each weapon I removed.

    We stood about four meters apart in the middle of a green space probably thirty or forty meters in both directions. "Ready when you are," I called.

    She drew in a breath and rushed at me. I backpedaled, giving ground in a circle something like ten meters across. She took a breath, planted a foot, and gestured at me. I tried to brace myself, but there wasn't anything to do about it. I flew probably five meters backward, landing on my back and skidding another couple meters before coming to a stop. I pulled myself up halfway, waiting for her to come to me, before throwing a telekinetic punch of my own at her knees and ankles as she started lining up her strike. I rolled away after launching that attack, not looking to see the result. I heard her land awkwardly on the ground but then get up shortly after that.

    "Well. Master Rogan said you were Force-Sensitive. Should have expected that," Darra acknowledged. "Not a mistake I'll make twice."

    I grinned, waited. "Master Rogan's rehab include anything about endurance running?"

    Darra's face fell. "Don't tell me--"

    "--yeah. I fight you fresh, you win every time. I drag it out, Darra, and maybe I catch you making another mistake." Tactics. She'd underestimated me once before. If I could pull one decent trick here I'd have a shot.

    She started to close the distance and I could feel her drawing on the Force for speed and strength. I reached into my holster and pulled out a clump of grass and dirt, throwing it at her face as she got close and trying to use the element of surprise to land a--

    --pain. A punch square in the chest sent me reeling and then I was on the defensive.

    "Clever trick. Master Kenobi had a certain philosophy about those, though. Attack straight into the center of an ambush," Darra elaborated as we fought. She was keeping me on the defensive, retreating in circles, while her offense had no real holes in it. Wait, was that?

    I retreated around again and she showed the same attack pattern. I blocked one punch away, twisted around another one, and found myself outside her line. I took that opportunity to trip her up and tried to establish a choke hold on her, but almost as soon as I'd gotten my grip, she telekinetically threw me several meters away.

    Fine. I want to win, I'm going to have to land some strikes.

    I spat out a bit of mud that had gotten into my mouth. "I hate fighting Force-Sensitives," I said, half to myself as I started to close the distance. "Especially Force-Sensitives who are better at the Force than me," I continued, feinting low and trying to land a strike high, only to find Darra using my own tactic against me. I rolled with the hold and threw her off by main strength. "And better at fighting than I am. And clever enough to see through tricks."

    "You forgot better-looking," Darra quipped.

    I graciously bowed to her wit. "Better-looking too." I looked at the glob of mud I'd spat out. Blazing Chains is a handy means of delivering a blaster bolt to a target in a way that contradicts the normal way of physics, but if you don't have a blaster handy... I telekinetically spun the glob around, looking for other clods of dirt and sod we'd brought up. Not because I was a greenputt player looking to replace a divot...but because I might just have a trick up my sleeve.

    Darra began to close again. Right before she did, I hit her in the back of the head with a clump of dirt, throwing a punch at her midsection.

    She doubled over, the surprise of the back attack opening her up to actually getting hit. I pressed my advantage as far as it would go, working her over with elbows and knees.

    She seemed to regain her focus after one of them and then floated maybe a few decimeters in the air. The telltale heat-shimmer of some kind of telekinetic effect distorted the air around me before I found myself launched across the ground, bouncing off it a few times before eventually standing up ten meters or so away.

    "You're a dirty rotten cheat of a sparring partner, y'know that?" she said with a grin on her face. "I might have to keep you."

    I grinned right back. "You're an annoying stubborn cuss of a sparring partner, y'know that?" I responded in kind. "I might be able to arrange that. Why don't we head for whatever passes for a cafeteria around here? I'll tell Rogan you're clear for active duty." Direct attack, sneak attack...ace in the hole.

    We walked back towards where we'd put our weapons and robes, Darra slightly in the lead.

    She caught herself about a meter from the line. "Wait a minute--" she started, interrupted by my having launched myself in a full bull-rush to push her out of the agreed-on fighting area.

    She started to fall away, but my follow-through left my arms out where she could grab them.

    We both flew out of the fighting area around the same time and slid another meter or two over the grass. Somehow, she'd managed to roll me onto my back, pinning my arms and legs to the ground. "Well. Suppose we're both out. So you have to tell me your name, and I..."

    I smiled. "Favor to be named later?"

    Darra looked at me with annoyance and disbelief. "That's a weird name."

    I blew out a breath. "Yeah, it would be. My name is Riphath Althean."

    Her annoyance turned to amusement. "Remedy, healing. And you're a doctor."

    I shook my head. "What can I say? My parents had a weird sense of humor."

    A/N: Yes, this is the first time I actually named the Jedi Healer. Look, names are hard okay? Given Darra's outsized importance in this quest (at least among the playerbase at times), I hope people are happy with her portrayal here. References: Darra portrait. Kaleth ruins on Tython. "So you're telling me there's a chance" from here.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • Stroth said:
    "Tell me Obi-wan, did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Sion the Eternal?"
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    I'm not going to lie - that is unquestionably the example she'd bring up in that context. And then she'd probably go on an hour long lecture about the Sith Triumvirate for good measure, berating Obi-Wan about not understanding history better the whole time.

    In short - fear the Ciaran Nerd Rage.

    Speaking of omakes:

    Panory said:
    Squandering Talents​
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    This is just brilliant in every way. Canon, +10.

    Panory said:
    Help Me Obi-Wan Kenobi​
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    Love the dynamic of this so much. +10 for now, and we'll see if parts of this come into play in the future. You did get a supercrit for killing Maul, and that endpoint is the perfect time for explosions to start happening...

    Barondoctor said:
    Merging Martial Might & Medicine (part 1)
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    Barondoctor said:
    Merging Martial Might & Medicine, part 2
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    Normally I wouldn't do this, but since these were posted in such close proximity and to be honest you people have enough fucking bonuses already it's only going to count for one +10. I think this is still currently non-canon, so let's roll with that because setting up a timeline for this turn is going to be difficult even before I start factoring in omake stuff.

    Anyway, elephant in the room time: @Dragontrapper I'm going to give you a similar set of rewards as last time, minus the reroll but with a shiny new alternative in its place:

    -Free stat boost (Martial/Intrigue) (as befitting the spy thriller feel of the poster)
    -Ability to ask three questions about the quest which I must answer truthfully (because I specifically asked for a poster, so I'm willing to up the ante here)
    -Third cool thing that I honestly can't think of, suggest something and I'll see if I can make it work (because these things always come in threes)
     
    Dr. Snark said:
    I'm not going to lie - that is unquestionably the example she'd bring up in that context. And then she'd probably go on an hour long lecture about the Sith Triumvirate for good measure, berating Obi-Wan about not understanding history better the whole time.

    In short - fear the Ciaran Nerd Rage.
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    Man, imagine Obi-Wan's reaction to this. I mean doesn't he think she's only a minor aficionado on the force?:D

    Jrin said:
    Darra would be an interesting lover to Ciaran, imagine the two conflict but compromise at the end of the day.
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    The oracle would be deorbited within a week.
     
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    I'm leaning toward the stat boost, if only because I have no write-in or question ideas. Unless the thread has a suggestion?
     
    Jack_Trade said:
    Man, imagine Obi-Wan's reaction to this. I mean doesn't he think she's only a minor aficionado on the force?:D
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    Not so much, he knows she's skilled in the arts of the Matukai enough to punch through steel, he also knows that she's talented with the lightsaber and gave serious thought to 'what if she had been a Jedi?'

    I don't think he's aware of her Sith history nerdery however, he probably wouldn't expect much academic rigour yet.

    I now really want Ciaran to go off on a literally historic rant at a vaguely worried Obi-Wan before being interrupted by an actual Sith to his relief.
     
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