Her voice was low and warm, wrapped around him like honey. That's what he'd first noticed about her her voice. Despite the underwear. He liked how she used his name, so familiar even after such a brief acquaintance. He chuckled regardless of the line of fire that sheared through his side remnant heat from an assassins vibroblade. Heh, brief
Hed known shed be trouble right from the start. The underwear might have been his first clue.
He grinned at her, his arm clamped to his side. Nuh-uh, gorgeous. Layin down to die just isnt my style.
Atton noticed the way she flinched at gorgeous and filed it away for later. He reeled off another series of blaster rounds and grunted with satisfaction as yet another sithspawn pile of mynock droppings fell, and he turned to the next aim, fire, aim, fire ignore the pain, stay alert aim, fire
Huh, he was one to talk. Flip. Flip. Flip - the constant shuffle of cards in his head, the pure emotion that absorbed and blocked reality better than a Mandalorian shield. Crouched beside her in the Ebon Hawk's engine room, he grinned and allowed a wave of pure lust to wash over him as he watched her lips - delicate pink - pursed over a buggy motivator in T3's chassis.
She felt it. He knew she did, just as he knew that she would shy away from it instead of digging deeper. Too deep. He waited for the calm lift of her pale eyebrow and the subtle shift of her body away from him.
Instead, he found those shattered eyes turned on him, a vertical furrow between her brows.
"Do not. Please."
"...um ... what?" His very best lopsided, 'who-me?' grin masked his astonishment. It wasn't like her to confront his baser urges. She usually gave them - and him - wide berth, no doubt
Then where on the fracking hairy arse of a wookie was her serenity??
Aniki hurled another rock into the gentle waves of the Rakatan sea, the light splash mocking the turmoil that simmered in her chest. Her eyes followed the fiery streaks that lit up the night sky smaller pieces of the Star Forge and countless Sith and Republic ships burning up as they struck the small planets atmosphere. Oblivious to the chaos in the sky, and in the core of the lone Jedi whose toes were barely within reach, the sea moved calmly, a slow, peaceful rhythm rising with the new tide, drawn and directed by the compressed mass of death and metal above.
The crimson streaks above flickered across the dark, bowed head of Aniki Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith, smuggler, Jedi,
Three days after the fall of Malachor and the death of Kreia.
The Exile groaned as her muscles flared in protest. She slowly opened her eyes, focusing on a clean, alabaster ceiling. It was round and she sensed an open balcony to one side. She could hear the sound of waves and scented salt in the air. Where am I? she rasped.
You are awake, replied a kindly voice, You are on Manaan, human and you are being cared for by the finest medical personnel in the universe. My name is Shaelas, I am your personal caretaker and friend to Admiral Onasi.
She turned to face the voice, biting her lip at the shooting pain that accompanied her movement. But but youre Selkath? she murmured.
You will find that your treatment at this facility will be second to none. Manaan is the home of all kolto production, two top-ranking medical schools an
Hed wanted to tear the purity from her before he discovered the knifes edge it was balanced on. And then hed just wanted to dance along the limit with her.
Oh Force, could she dance
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and downed the rest of his juma before signalling for more. The buzz of the crowded cantina dissolved, and all he could see in his minds eye was the way she had moved before that slugs ass of a Hutt, flashes of crimson and gold dangling from her hips and her breasts.
It had been absolute torture, watching her bend and sway, her honey-coloured hair loose over her shoulders, sliding over the delicate line of her throat. Worse still with Blondie standing beside him, blushing like a virgin schoolgir
She pushed back the tangle of sheets and robes, placing her feet firmly on the floor and returning the crystal to her pillow. For the first morning in days there was no pain and no burning in her bones. The Exile took a quick glance at the pale green bruising on her arms and legs, took a deep breath and stood. Moving away from the bunks she bent low, grabbing her ankles and
Suddenly a cacophony of noise rang out. It sliced through the murky haze of her thoughts and shook her to the very core. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. Summoning all of her remaining power she forced her conscious to surface again to reality and pulled herself to a standing and ready position. Her vision cleared and she saw them. Her masters, her mentors were all lying motionless in the grass. She broke into
She carried herself almost fugitively, as if fearing detection, though, conversely, she had the confident air of one that had evaded death many times.
She was looking at a ship, her ship, a large personal fighter, the Ivory Hawk. It was roughly twice the size of the smuggler she'd used on the Quest for the Star Forge, though it was similarly shaped, and derived its name from it. The Ivory Hawk was barely hidden in the sea of grass surrounding it, but it was kept from view well enough.
All appeared clear to Senellast, though she wasn't naïve--she knew the peace could be a trap, so she proceeded with caution, and managed to make it to the ship safely.
Inside, she kept her hand on one of her lightsabers, keeping her
The tendrils of a whisper curved like fingers through the Exiles sleeping brain pulling at her reason, tugging at her logic and drawing her back to reality.
It was more insistent now and she opened her eyes a small crack. She glanced at the illuminated gold digits on the ivory chronometer in front of her; it read 2:25am.
Yes Shaelas? she replied, the sleep heavy in her voice.
I am sorry to disturb you at this hour but your companion has awakened, he said, He is calling for you.
Her eyes snapped open to attention and she pulled herself upright. Bao? she asked, Is he alright?
Yes Mistress, Shaelas replied gently, However, he is still suffering from the after-effects of sedation. It can be very confusing to a patient when they awaken and he is most distressed. I did not wish to call you at this hour but as he is ask
No one knew who had dreamt it. The tiny dream began to think.
'I don't want to disappear this way.
How can I make people dream of me?'
The tiny dream thought and thought, and then came up with an idea.
'I'll make humans get lost in me, and let them create the world.'"
The first ALICE's hands were smeared red with blood
From her sword and from her hands that she murdered with.
Despite the fact that she was a murderer,
Her other personality was very kind indeed.
This new ALICE, in the snow,
She was found face down there and dying quickly.
If it weren't for her dear friends and the blood on her hands,
No one would believe that she existed.
The second ALICE was a quiet blue one.
He solved crimes and ate cake with a quiet grin.
He was held very dear by his fam and friends,
He really isn't that crazy or insane.
This new ALICE was loved by several,
But sadly his name was written in a notebook,
Leaving those he loved in deep sorrow.
The Exile could hear the agonized sound of soldiers both Mandalorian and Marauder alike as ordinance rounds tore them apart. She raced through the smoke, lightsaber aloft, carving a path through to Mandalores former headquarters. She had not expected to encounter a Sith Battalion; she had assumed that with the deaths of Nihilus, Sion and Kreia that their ranks would have been thrown into disarray.
She was wrong.
Her weapon was a beacon, drawing the dark soldiers to her position. Somehow they recognized her, swarming her by the dozens. Her limbs had protested at first during the beginning of the battle. But as she pushed forward the continual movement had allowed her to regain most of her range of motion. She deflected the strikes of four Marauders with her double-blade and whirling to the left, she threw her hand forward. The ensuing Force strike blasted another four away from her.&
She had no name.
She was only blood and bone and laceration.
Thought and memory and mutilation.
Suffering was eternity, beyond the confines of time.
She heard a low, pitiable whimper and understood that the sound came from her own throat, even as a fresh barrage of screams came tearing through it.
She had been screaming forever.
Through the miasma of her fear, a new touch penetrated. A hand, fingertips cool and dry, softly stroked her forehead. She turned her face toward the caress, blue eyes long since gone, searching. Atton?
No sound escaped her lips, through the blood and bile, dust and grit. But she was heard.
Ah, Cora. You are a marvel. After so much injury, still you hope. The voice, like
4 days after the destructi
Chapter I: The Exile's Recovery
Snap. A circular, round ship shot through the blackness and twinkling stars of space, following a Hyperspace route. It's orange and beige markings fooled the looker into the belief that this was a republican-born ship, but the Ebon Hawk's history proved otherwise. Only the motley crew within its broad hull gave away its current alliance towards the Galactic Republic. One of the crew— a young, brown-haired boy in his early twenties— sat up from the cockpit seat while white and cyan light streaked by the windows. He immediately dashed towards the loading ramp, eager to see what awaited him. It was what he'd hoped to find.
"Zae, you're alright!" he exclaimed at th
She hunched her shoulders under the long coat and decided it didnt matter her name, the planets name this was her last attempt.
Swimming in the reflection of the yellow suns heat, a tiny settlement shivered in her vision. Nestled between sand dunes, only the peaks of strangely slanted roofs could be seen. The exile hooked her light sabres to her belt, pulled up her hood and set off towards the only signs of habitation she could detect on this dirt-ball of a planet.
She lost track of time, each step feeling exactly like the last hot, painful, futile. She turned her face down, away from the scouring wind and sand and watched her feet leave prints that blew away before the next step
You should treat your side deck with more care than that. Your side deck is what you bring to the table. Its what separates you from every two-bit wannabe huckster this side of Nar Shadda. He grimaced as he watched her endeavour to smooth out a +3/-3 card that looked like it had been used to prop a blast door open. Without that deck, youre stuck with whats dealt to ya.
I know, I know, she said, feeling foolish. It its just that I havent played in a very long time.
Yeah, I know.
She glanced up and caught his gaze, only for a moment