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”Good evening Galactic Republicans. Welcome to HoloNet News, I’m Trevor McDonald, and Recent Headlines include; Kolto, the information the Selkath don't want you to see, a recent uprising on Dantooine was stopped in its tracks after a Jedi order cleansed the population of all those who'd wish to harm loyal Republic citizens, but first, we bring you exclusive news that a young Jedi padawan on the verge of accepting his knight, has been corrupted by the dark side of the force and has gone on a rampage."

 

Being hunted by a pack of trained assassins who jumped from a buildings edge to another, Jack sprinted through empty streets, praying to non-existent gods to find some form of crowd. He knew these assassins and their protocols, and they wouldn't dare engage him in a place where witnesses would be able to identify them. It was against their training and bad publicity for the order, like any bad publicity could really do them much damage.

 

 

"The padawan named as Jack Goren, started his killing spree by taking the life of his master before he attacked the Jedi council, escaping by the skin of his teeth before he proceeded to murder three other Jedi padawans and two knights. Authorities believe he escaped into the Coruscant undercity, killing several unarmed Republican security guards as he did so."

 

Dropping out of the sky, one of the hunting pack dropped from the safety of the building and blocked the path for Jack. So not to have to bump into the assassin, Jack halted to a stop and quickly wielded his light saber from his utility belt. It was clear if Jack ever hoped to escape these assassins, he would have no choice but to end them of their life. With a flick of a switch, a green blade of energy slid from the hilt. In response, the assassins pulled out their light sabers and revealed a blue blade.

 

"The Jedi Order has requested the help of the public in capturing Padawan Goren, but the order has expressed their desire for Padawan Goren to be returned alive and intact as it is belief he is not acting on his own accord, but in fact being manipulated by Sith. In response for this attack, the Order has dispatched as fleet of Order class destroyers to Dxun, where evidence suggest they have a base. A bill has been passed through the senate for a complete planetary cleansing. It was accepted without challenge with is no surprise after the planet was used by the Sith for an assault on the Onderon a good seventeen years ago. It is clear that Padawan Goren deserves our sympathy instead our of hatred."

 

The assassin attacked in sequence, one from the behind would lunch forward for a strike, before jumping back to allow one to make a surprise attack of his own. These assassin were brain washed to the point they though like a simple droid, so the sequence attacking was expect, giving Jack an advantage. After fending off the fourth attack, Jack prepared for the strike from behind and as soon as the assassin gave the impression he was about to jump away, Jack spun the blade and stabbed behind him. Like his predicted, the saber sliced right through the striking assassins chest, presumably killing him instantly.

 

While the assassin hung against Jack's back, stuck on the laser blade, Jack quickly robbed he corpse of it's lightsaber, ignite it and caused to the force to fire at the assassin in front of him like the traditional Jedi weapon was nothing but a projectile. Because this assassin was moving towards Jack to avenge his companions death, he wasn't expecting what Jack pulled and hit the floor straight after being the blade of the light saber sank deep into his body. There was but one assassin left, and through his mask, Jack could see just how the assassin determined was just by looking in this mans eyes. This wasn't good news for Jack.

 

The next minute of Jack's time was taken up defending himself from this assassins frenzy attacks, Jack defiantly had to be on his toes for this fight. Eventually the battle turned against him when a lucky strike against Jack caught the edge of his lightsaber, slicing it straight off. Though Jack was able to dodge the blade, he was now stepping backwards weaponless. All he was thinking was this can't be how it ends!. Fortunately it wasn't, something popped into Jacks mind. As the assassin went for a vertical strike, Jack jumped backwards and stretched out his arms towards the body of the second assassin he killed.

 

After a few shakes, the light saber the assassin wielding sprung from the ground and into Jack's hand. Not good with surprises, the assassin was somewhat taken back by this and didn't react after enough for a vertical strike of Jack's own, which removed the assassin of it's head. The body quickly hit the floor, leaving Jack standing alone with three dead bodies and short light saber.

 

"I can't use this," Jack muttered before concentrating the force power to crush the weapon to prevent it to be used again for killing. After discarding the light saber to the streets, Jack began walking in the comfort that he shouldn't be followed for a good amount of time. But despite this, he was weaponless and needed to find either a light saber. But where would he find one?

 

Just as the thought crossed his mind, he felt a pulse of a light saber crystal echo through the streets, causing him to stop in his tracks and look around around. He felt the pulse again, coming from a canteen a free streets away, then he fault another pulse. A much darker one from behind him. There was something about this pulse. It was colder than what it should have been. It took a few seconds before he realized what this pulse belonged too, and he knew he had to run if he valued his life, so thats what he did. He ran.

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It was another dreadful day, down in the unfriendly and depressing undercity of Coruscant. Those who were beggars beyond belief, begged everyday, hoping to catch spare credits from the pompous well-off people. Most people however, tried to retain some sense of dignity, even if they were poor and that they were trying to make their awful lives much better for themselves.

 

Brent Vaughn believed that he was one of the many people, hoping to improve his poor and somewhat pointless existence. Alone and bitter, Vaughn was no longer in his prime and he was way past trying to make himself stand out in the galaxy. He had a chance, long ago during the Mandalorian Wars. Sadly, he had failed then and he hadn't had another shot at fame, fortune and glory, which he thought that he deserved.

 

Of course, there had been several adventures since then, but nothing worthwhile and certainly nothing to boast about to anyone who might have stopped trying just for a moment and listened. Nobody did of course, but those who did listen usually listened with an open mind, but Vaughn had a feeling that most of the time, nobody believed his stories. He had told them quite clearly that he had once been a soldier for the Republic and fought against the Mandalorians and then after his heroic acts (which was a lie really, since nobody back then had considered him a valiant person), he worked small time, trying to avoid a busy life.

 

Vaughn didn't care anymore. Nobody wanted to believe him (might've been to do with age, since he was sixty-five after all) and that was fair enough.

 

What Vaughn missed most, however was a good old adventure. A point of living, trying to make yourself known to the galaxy. But twenty-nine years ago that had changed, when Vaughn had decided to start again. What a terrible way to start again, he thought, as he observed the many crowds, which thankfully he had been about to avoid.

 

If Vaughn was going to try and have fun again once more, he was going to have to find a way off the planet. He wasn't a good pilot and most of his piloting friends had either abandoned him or died, when he had abandoned them.

 

Somehow and someway, he was going to leave Coruscant and hopefully forever.

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Rena woke up from a good rest, and stretched her arms out tiredly. She got out of bed, and went to go take a shower. After that, she placed on her clothings, along with her brown boots. Then she picked up her bag with her possessions in it, and went out the door.

 

Going out the door and to the elevator, an old Arkanian man, wearing a white robe and black slippers, stepped out of his apartment door. It was Mr. Sho, the scruffy landlord. "Young! You'd better have those creds by the end of the month! I mean it!" The young girl chuckled to herself, and stepped in the opened elevator.

 

"Don't worry, Mr. Sho. I'll have it for ya. Promise." She pressed the down button. Finally, the elevator door closed, leaving a grumbling Mr. Sho.

 

When the elevator door opened, she was in the canteen. Finally, she could get something to eat! Rena stepped in the canteen, going in line. When she got her food, Rena sat at a table alone. "Alone again. Boy, I wish Mom and Dad were with me..." A lone tear fell from her eye. She wiped it away sadly.

 

Finding out that her father was a Jedi was hard for Rena to believe. The Jedi Order was more strict, along with the Republic. It was like living in the Last Days, as her mother once said. Things were going crazy, even for a 17-year-old girl like her.

 

As Rena ate her food, she didn't noticed that inside her bag, her father's old lightsaber began to pulse, as if an energy inside was calling someone...

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There was a cantina in the Undercity which always had lots of people in it. Drinkers, gamblers, gangsters, even druggies. One of the people inside was a human. He sat in a corner drinking a Correlian Ale, a drink he enjoyed very much. He stared down at the Pazaak tables, and the other tables, looking at a Rodian in particular. The man was broke, he had just gambled away all his savings on Pazaak game, and lost it all to the very same Rodian which he was staring on.

 

The man took a zip of his Ale, and looked away at a news holo. He couldn't hear much, but saw a picture of a young Jedi. He didn't care much, the local news didn't bother him, and news about Jedi did he definatley not care about.

Why are Jedis always involved with problems? He turned away again, and watched at Rodian once more. He's probably cheating somehow...

 

The Rodian just won another game. That does it! did the Human think and finnished his Ale and put the glass on the table real hard and rised up. He went towards the Rodian and said.

"I'm here to get my money back!"

 

"Crazy Human back, drunk human, broke human. You must be able to wager. What's your bet?"

 

The man thought awhile.

"I, Hoban Cedman, will wager my ship, the Golden Griffin, against all my money I've lost!" The people in the gambling tables got quite, a ship-bet wasn't very common.

 

Hoban looked at the Rodian and said: "Game on!"

 

They both choose their decks, shuffled and started a game best of three. With 1-1 in games the third ended in a tied. And on the next round the Rodian stoped at 20, Hoban had 19 points and a -4 card to go. He felt something like a cold wind on his face. "Flip the card." Everyone were quite, and the dealer slowly flipped a card. It was a 7. The Rodian smiled. Hoban stared in his eyes and flipped his card. -4 and went down to the points of 22. Hoban lost. He had lost on of the things that mattered most to him...all because of gamble and drinking.

 

Hoban didn't know what to do. He looked around, chocked and frustrated, yet he knew better than to pic a fight in these areas. He went to the baternder and bought another Correlian Ale with his last credits.

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The smug grin on his face was extinguished as Kossiyk's fist smashed through teeth and jaw, turning the lower part of his face into something that resembled a horror show. He coughed, gagging, spitting teeth and blood out onto the plush and expensive nerfhide carpeting.

 

"P...please..."

 

"Shut up. Josyk told me you missed a payment on your loan. Do you have the money, or do I have to take it out of your hide?"

 

"I...I don't..."

 

In a flash, Kossiyk had the little man dangling by his collar over a ten thousand foot drop towards Coruscant's bedrock. "Think VERY carefully about what you say next."

 

A reek wafted upwards as the man let out a terrified scream. The urge to 'accidentally' let go and see if he could catch a speeder down to the lower levels to watch him pancake was almost overpowering. He let a calculated length of shirt slip out of his hands.

 

"Alright, Trandoshan! I'll...I'll get you the money. Josyk'll get his money!"

 

"That's what I like to hear."

 

He jerked the man back up. The little coward clung to the carpeting, mumbling thanks and empty promises.

 

"You have twenty-four hours. Then I'll be back. If you haven't paid Josyk by then, you'll be taking the express elevator to bedrock."

 

He turned on his heel and walked through the splintered remnants of the man's apartment door, heading straight for the personal vehicles hangar where his speeder was waiting. He casually stepped into it, powering the vehicle up. The Holofeed came through clearly.

 

"...his killing spree by taking the life of his master before he attacked the Jedi council, escaping by the skin of his teeth before he proceeded to murder three other Jedi padawans and two knights. Authorities believe he escaped into the Coruscant undercity, killing several unarmed Republican security guards as he did so."

 

"Certainly prolific." He had to give this fellow some credit - massacring a half-dozen Jedi personally was a pretty impressive feat. He listened into the rest casually. Not much else interesting, other than the Senate ordering a planetary bombardment of Dxun.

 

Kossiyk throttled up, sending his speeder out of the bay, heading for a Cantina and Pazaak Den that was pretty close. Job done for the day, now time to relax.

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Vin entered the Cantina filled with thugs and sentients, standing by the barkeep droids who served their patrons drinks. He yawned as he joined in with the crowd, making sure both his Lightsabers were well hidden behind his coat; Jedi seem to have a bad reputation nowadays, but Vin wasn't one... anymore.

 

He stood on the stool. "Hey droid. Get me a Jirly Juice..." he handed his credit chip to the Barkeep droid. The droid asked for an ID, to confirm Vin was at the legal age of 19. The machine poured him his drink, and as Vin was about to take a sip, he suddenly felt... a pulse of some kind... running through the force. Like it came from the crystal of a Lightsaber.

 

Vin stared around the cantina. It couldn't have been his own; his cystals had a different force signature.

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((Joint post with Steven))

 

A tall, well built man stood at the entrance to an alleyway, arms crossed over his chest as he peered into the darkness. At length, he said, "How long do you intend to run from your destiny? You're not a child any longer."

 

"How long do you intend to follow me around like a lost pup?" a feminine voice shot back from the shadows. There! He could see her outline, and he took a step forward.

 

"Until you come home," he answered gently. "Please."

 

"Can't," she answered abruptly. "I can't live up to that... those expectations. I'm... I'm sorry."

 

She fled and he gave chase. But she was fast and he suspected she would try to lead her into a crowd, where it would be easy for her to lose him. And thus, he stopped, standing aside and mourning the loss of the woman he loved.

 

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

 

"Dad stood aside," one of the young men observed as they passed by their father. His brother laughed, and his younger sister scowled.

 

"Dad's a fool," she snapped. "If we don't catch her now, she'll fade away to the background of the galaxy and we'll never see her again."

 

"Mayla's right," the eldest of the three said. "Dad somehow thinks she'll come back. But we've seen the restless side of her. If she's gone, she's not coming back. Come on!"

 

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

 

Aryn Vexxlin darted through the streets of the Undercity, occasionally chancing a backward glance. Frustration etched itself across her youthful face, and her eyes showed fear. With determination, she rounded a corner, chancing another backward glance, and then...

 

"Oof!" she found herself falling, tangled up with a young man who'd been running the other direction. And somehow, they twisted, and he fell on top of her. Pushing irritably on his chest, she hissed, "Get off me!"

 

Jack groaned before pushing himself of the young woman he'd slammed into. "Sorry, didn't look where I was going, have this bad ass corpse chasing me you see." He brushed himself off and looked where he had came from. He could no longer sense his prosecutor, not a good sign.

 

With a roll of her eyes, Aryn muttered, "Corpse... try three barely-out-of-their-teenage-years children..." Then, she scowled and scolded, "You would do well to watch where you're going as opposed to where you've been. Corpse or not, you run faster when you look ahead and can determine if there are any immediate obstacles you have to avoid... obstacles like me."

 

"Hey kid, you can blame me all for this, but you have to admit you weren't looking either or you would have seen me," Jack replied, not looking at her. Instead his eyes were scanning the area for any signs of danger, but searching was interrupted by another pulse of force energy. This one was very close, very close indeed... His eyes fixed on the young woman, who appeared to in the middle of her teens. "Hey kid, this may seem very weird me saying but, do you ever get strange dreams that feel almost real?"

 

Aryn frowned. "What sort of question is that?" she demanded irritably, glancing over her shoulder. Then, she glanced around him. "Scratch that. There's your corpse..." She glanced over her shoulder again. "... and there's my kids." She looked up at him. "Shall we continue this conversation elsewhere?"

 

Without waiting for an answer, she tugged on his hand, pulling him through a nearby doorway and into a bar.

 

Jack spotted the assassin before waving, "Sorry Bob, maybe next time." Jack told him before allowing the strange woman to pull him into the bar. He knew the undead assassin wouldn't follow him into a crowd place where witnesses could see him. Wasn't the assassin’s style.

 

"Right, so where were we?" Aryn said thoughtfully, guiding the man into a seat. The bartender took one look at Aryn and shook his head.

 

"We can't let you stay, young miss," he said, gesturing to the sign that stated the age limit. Aryn shot him a glare and fired back with, "Oh, buzz off."

 

Which he did. Then, she turned back to the man she'd collided with in the streets and extended her hand, and introduced herself, "Aryn Vexxlin."

 

"J.... Al," Jack said, deciding to go by an alias while he was still Order's most wanted, a simple easy to remember alias so he wouldn't forget in the heat of the moment. "Last names... erm Dente..."

 

Aryn arched a single eyebrow at his stammering over his own name. "Right..." She didn't sound convinced in the least and she wore such a skeptical expression, he couldn't help but wonder if she knew who he really was. But then, she smiled. "Nice to meet you, Al Dente. Now... you were asking about dreams?"

 

"Huh? Ohh yeah, dreams," Jack said before leading the woman to table and seat. After sitting her down, Jack asked her "Ever had strange dreams that feel real, then the next day or week, well come true?"

 

Aryn laughed. "What, you mean like precognition?"

 

"Yeah, like a precognition," Jack replied.

 

Aryn smiled faintly. "Do you begin all your conversations in this way?"

 

"Well, sometimes, I come from a very different environment from this, look I'll show you," Jack said before looking around. No one was looking. He then stared at a jug on the bar table, he concentrated on the jug and slowly lifted it a few centimeters of from the ground and dropped it in front of Aryn...

 

... or at least, that was his intention. What actually happened was that, when he dropped it, the jug landed in Aryn's right hand. She set it down in the center of the table and smiled faintly. "Really, that's fascinating."

 

"You see, if you haven't guessed, I'm... was a Jedi, and when we bumped I sensed something from you," Jack explained, though he was getting the feeling Aryn has hiding something from him.

 

"And you just had to ask," Aryn concluded. "Had to know if I was some Jedi brat they sent out looking for you... a Jedi brat so well trained that I could fool you."

 

She shook her head. "Go ahead. Probe me. You won't find any significant Force sensitivity."

 

"Ermm no ... I wasn't coming to that," Jack replied "I would have felt the Order’s programming inside you if you were an agent working for them. I know you’re hiding something, and at this moment I'm not bothered what this is. I just wanna know have you ever used the Force?"

 

A mysterious smile played across her lips. "That would be telling, wouldn't it?" She shook her head. "Like I said, not really Force sensitive. You're running into literal blocks built up in my mind. Stuff not even the Force can get through."

 

"If you’re not force sensitive then what are you?"

 

Aryn laughed. "That's my secret." She winked. "Thought you didn't mind."

 

"In that case I've gotta go, I'm weaponless and being chased by a lethal corpse, I need to find myself a weapon," Jack said, standing up. "Good day ma'am, hope those teenagers don't cause you anymore trouble."

 

"I can assure you they will," Aryn said, rising with him. "And you seem like you could use an ally in your flight. Let me stay with you." She smiled disarmingly, as if to say, "I dare you to accept my offer."

 

Jack thought about the offer for a moment before telling her "My name's really Jack, and though I don't exactly trust you, I could always an extra pair of arms if I ever want to get out of this thing alive."

 

Aryn laughed softly. "I'd think you a royal fool if you truly trusted me, Jack. Let's get out of here."

 

They stood to leave the bar, but Jack held up his hand. "Just one moment. I'm in need of a weapon... and I've found one. Give me a second..."

 

He crossed the cantina to where a young girl sat, her bag set lightly beside her. Jack sensed a lightsaber in that bag, and he was determined to get it...

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"Evening," Jack said to the young woman sitting alone, just minding her own business as she ate and drunk in silence. He was sure to keep a pleasant face whilst he was looking at her so he didn't give off any bad impressions. He'd need to pay the friendly card if he had any hopes of removing this woman of the light saber she carried in her bag. "My name is Jack, and I'm not from around here, well I am but I haven't came down to the lower levels of Coruscant for some time. I'm sort of a Jedi however after a nasty turn of events, I lost my trusty weapon to some real bad characters, and I was hoping you could point me in the right direction."

 

<tag> Rena (SkywalkerRules)

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Ah, the Undercity of Coruscant. Beneath the rich and luxurious city-planet, lay the wastes, the poor, the criminals, the unfortunate, the dead and the killers. Alan Spacer was all the last four. He was a criminal and a killer. He was unfortunate because nothing ever exciting ever happened and due to his past. He was pretty much dead inside for the same reasons. Once a proud Mandalorian warrior. Now, only the name, the language and the beliefs remained. He was no longer a Mandalorian. He was just a warrior.

 

As Alan walked through the streets of the Undercity, he happened to accidentally (though weakly) tackle some Weequay.

 

"Hey, what the hell was that for?!" The Weequay asked him, angrily and surprisingly speaking Basic.

 

"Oh," He said, looking at him, then saying "Sorry." He then tried to continue his path, however, the Weequay wouldn't let him.

 

"Sorry? SORRY?! Sorry ain't gonna cut it pal, i could have been seriously hurt!" Grabbing the jacket's collar.

 

"What do you want, i already said sorry," Alan asked, taking the Weequay's hand off his collar.

 

"I want compensation," He answered him with a big grin, then raising his fist, "And i know just how to get it!"

 

The Weequay then threw his fist against Alan's face. He simply tilted his head to his left, then grabbing hold of his arm and twisting it, making his way behind his assailant, forcing him onto the ground with a swift kick to the knee's back.

 

"Listen, you really don't want to fight me. I'm just going to let you go now," Alan told him, letting him go and trying to continue his way onto the nearest cantina. However, a circle of thugs had appeared around him, screaming "Fight!". They seemed to be friends with the Weequay. They were 6, 7 counting his attacker. One of the thugs then handed the Weequay, apparently their boss, a small vibroblade.

 

"Heheh, i'm going to make you wish you had never messed with me!" The Weequay shouted, then running towards him. Alan simply smiled and tried to block with his arm...

 

...An impact was heard. There was no blood and Alan didn't seem to be hurt at all. In fact, he seemed to be very happy while his enemy was very confused. The blade was stuck with him. He then slid down some of his sleeve, revealing his metal armor underneath the coat. Then, another impact was heard as the Weequay fell to the ground, blood coming out of his now broken nose and busted lips.

 

"Heh, that's what you get for messing with me," He said, taking out the vibroblade and throwing it to the ground. Now, any of you wise guys going to try anything or can i go my way?"

 

A yell. The circle closed on him. 'Guess not', he thought.

 

One was immediately defeated with another swift punch on Alan's part. Another tried to cheap shot him with an attack from behind however he ducked and then thrust his elbow onto the thug's chest. 4 remained. Next came the blasters. A Rodian came and shot at him, slightly hurting him. Alan then raised his arms and suddenly bullets came out of them, hitting the Rodian, making him fall to the ground. Another came, shooting at the parts where he was sure there was less armor, hitting him in his knees. Alan fell to the ground. As the thug came to him, he then tripped him with his feet, quickly walked to him and broke his neck. The remaining two, ran away, in fear of this display of brutality.

 

"Well then, someone needs to pay some more," Alan said, with a bloodlusting smile, approaching the Weequay and punching him some more, taking full pleasure on this ruthless beating.

 

---

 

After the brutal encounter, Alan finally made his way into a cantina, where he sat down for hours and hours, drinking and drinking. Nobody sat around him due to his scary appearance and eyepatch covering one of his eyes. While in his drunken state, Alan was either very rowdy or very calm. Thankfully, this was one of his calm days. He then looked behind him, watching HoloNet News. There was some story about some Jedi kid who had killed his fellow comrades and was now on the run.

 

A Jedi? Sounded like a challenge. And the reward should also be quite plenty. Why, this could worth the while.

 

Finishing his drink, Alan then got up and left the cantina, on the look for his new mark:

 

Jack Goren.

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Rena had a lot on her mind, trying not to think of nobody but her parents. Losing someone you loved was too hard to accept. Being alone was just scary... even living in the Undercity of Coruscant.

 

The young woman's hazel eyes brightened with tears as she ate and drunk her blue milk silently. Suddenly, she looked up, and saw a young man, probably four years older than her.

 

When she heard that his name was Jack and that he needed help, Rena sat there, pulling her bag close to her. "Uh.... um... I'm sorry. I... I don't talk to strangers," she said in a soft tone.

 

Rena knew something fishy was going on, but she kept her ground, staring suspiciously at Jack.

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"Uh.... um... I'm sorry. I... I don't talk to strangers," came the reply, something that fell upon the lines of what Jack was expecting to hear from her. He would have probably made a similar remark if but in her position but with perhaps a bit of swearing or a snappy put down.

 

Jack smiled at her respond before going into more detail by what he meant when he asked for her help. "Let me explain something to you. I'm a ex-Jedi on a mission to clear my name whilst on the run from some pretty nasty people who'd rather I be brainwashed back into their ranks. And as a Jedi, I have great senses and at this current moment in time, I can sense you have a light saber in your bag beating like a heart. I really need that light saber if I ever want to survive down here, so I wanna make a trade. At this moment I have nothing but the clothes I wear and I sorta need them too, but if you so desire I can get a good number of credits for you to spend on whatever you need."

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"Bartender! Give me another one!"

 

"No, you have no money!"

 

"Look, I'm not even drunk, and I need the drinks...now give me one!"

 

"No! Guards!" two bouncers turned up. "This man is bothering me, please throw him out!" The two bouncers took Hoban and draged him to the door and threw him out. Hoban hit the ground hard and had to stay on the ground for a minute.

 

When he finally was able to rise again, he clean his coat from the dust and looked around. He didn't really know where to go, nor what to do. Blast! Nowhere to go, and I don't even have money to get drunk...and I really need to get drunk right now...or a ship, especially my ship! Either way it's win-win!

 

Hoban just started to walk, wondering if his fortune would change soon. Bad luck had followed him lately, and betting the ship made him think, his luck would turn. *sigh* This planet smells worse than a Hutt's breath!

 

Hoban stopped by a screen and noticed that they still sent out news about some Jack Goren.

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Upon entering a cantina, which Brent himself visited very often (meaning everyday), he heard the news about a suspicious character, Jack Goren.

 

Typical Jedi, Brent thought angrily, as he pushed through the crowded cantina, so he could order his drink, always attention seeking, no matter what the situation.

 

It was a harsh opinion, but Brent couldn't care less. In this galaxy, you had to look after number one. Yourself and yourself only.

 

Brent sighed, as he saw someone getting thrown out by two bouncers. Someone, no matter what they had or hadn't done was thrown out. Tonight was no different and Brent knew that there would be more following the someone being thrown out.

 

After so much effort, Brent finally made his way over the counter, much to the annoyance of the punters. In particular, one person was very annoyed with him. This was normal.

 

"Oi!" the annoyed someone shouted, "Stop pushin'!"

 

He pushed Brent backwards, knocking several glasses to the floor and in some cases, spilling glasses with exotic drinks, such as Juri Juice and Correlian Ale over many disappointed people. And it was because of this, a riot started. Brent didn't care. He had a problem with the someone who had started it.

 

"Listen sonny!" Brent yelled over the riot, "I didn't push in, you've just been drinking too much!"

 

"No, I..." the man argued, hicupping and stumbling from side to side, "You..."

 

The bouncers that had thrown someone out before walked over to Brent.

 

"Okay old man," one of them began sternly, "You've caused a disturbance of the peace."

 

Disturbance of the peace? Hadn't them or anyone else noticed that rioting was quite common?

 

"No, I haven't," Brent replied angrily, "I've just come in here for a drink and it isn't my fault that someone can't hold their ale."

 

"Sure you have," the second bouncer replied, grabbing Brent's arm and twisting it, as well as kicking the behind of his knees, "Now out, before we take serious action."

 

Brent couldn't do anything. With no way of fighting back, he allowed himself to be thrown out into the dirty streets, vunerable to the possible threats there.

 

"I really need to get away from Coruscant soon," Brent told himself, as he limped away.

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The cantina was, as usual, a bustle of vagrants, gamblers, and the typical whiners who had gambled away their last credit while half-drunk.

 

Pretty much run of the mill for cantinas on Coruscant these days. Shockingly, being owned by a fairly vicious Exchange boss didn't really make it any worse. Kossiyk watched the bouncers haul out some old man between them, flung him out into the walk, and then went back into the cantina. No guts. Josyk should look into some better hired help.

 

He entered, the Bouncers shying aside as he did so, and headed for the bar.

 

"Gizer."

 

"Fresh..."

 

"No."

 

He grabbed the Bartender by the hand, his sleeve slipping upwards to reveal the Exchange tattoo on his forearm.

 

"You'll find some."

 

Invoking The Exchange was probably not something Josyk would be entirely pleased about, but Kossiyk was in no mood to deal with a bartender too senile to recognize him.

 

A Gran walked out of the back room. "Kossiyk."

 

It was one of Josyk's less effective hounds. "What do you want?"

 

"Josyk. He wants to see you."

 

Kossiyk glared at him. The Bartender had just pulled out the gizer and poured. He was hoping for ten minutes' relaxation before he bashed in any more skulls. Kossiyk slung the drink back, letting the blue liquid run down his throat in a comforting trail of fire, then got up and headed into the backroom.

 

A holoscreen was up, with a Mon Calamari's face on it. "Kossiyk."

 

"He'll pay. He doesn't have the courage to do anything else."

 

"I know. He already made the payment to my account, with a small bonus. But that isn't what I wanted to speak to you about. Have you seen the news?"

 

The Mon Cal had an irritating way of beating around the bush before getting to the point. Kossiyk cut him off at the pass. "The renegade Jedi?"

 

"Yes. The Jedi Order has been extremely...irritating over the past several months, closing down a number of my operations. Before today, I didn't think there was anything I could really do, the Jedi are notoriously effective. Did you ever hear what happened to Goto?"

 

"Got his Yacht blown up."

 

"By a Jedi. A renegade Jedi could be a useful ally, particularly one as skilled as this Goren. A half-dozen of his fellow Jedi. Quite prolific. You should be impressed."

 

"I prefer bagging Wookiees to Jedi. Their pelts make better trophies."

 

Josyk chuckled, a waterly gulping noise that was profoundly irritating. "Be that as it may...this Goren no doubt has every Bounty Hunter and Jedi in the Galaxy on him. This could be a great opportunity for the Exchange, to hurt both the Bounty Hunter's Guild and the Jedi Order. "

 

"You want me to find him and get him to work for us?"

 

"No. That would draw attention to the Exchange. I want you to make sure he stays alive. The longer he lives, the more the Jedi spend trying to kill him, and if we're lucky, the more Jedi and Bounty Hunters die trying to apprehend him."

 

Despite how incredibly irritating Josyk could be at times, he was nobody's fool. This was a good plan.

 

"He's got Jedi and Bounty Hunters breathing down his neck. How am I supposed to find him?"

 

"Come now, Kossiyk, surely you've been watching the news."

 

Goren was a media sensation, much like a serial killer. Any sign of him would be immediately reported on the News...that could be ironically effective.

 

"This could get me killed. What're you offering?"

 

"Doran's dead. Fell out of his landspeeder. That means the position as underboss of the Manarai Heights is open."

 

The offer was incredibly tempting. He was fresh to the Exchange, and most people took at least five years to become an underboss even on a minor Exchange world, much less Coruscant.

 

Too tempting to pass up, even if this was suicidal.

 

"I'll do it."

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After hearing what Jack said, Rena began to believe that he really was a Jedi. It's been a while since she ever seen one. But hearing that he needed her father's lightsaber brought horror through her body.

 

"I understand that you need a weapon. And I would give it to you, sir. But you see... my father's lightsaber is more important to me than anything. I never knew who he was until my mother told me... before she died. I found my father's lightsaber when I was 14. I was so scared when I became an orphan. And now... I still am."

 

She sighed. Then she took out her father's lightsaber, and looked at it. "I wish I knew about the Force. Maybe... maybe there's a reason that this lightsaber is calling out, which I can't feel."

 

Rena looked up at Jack. "Maybe... I can help you..."

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Hoban heard some noise from the cantina and turned around. He saw how a bouncer threw out an old man. The walked towards the man and said:

 

"Been there, done that...and I'm pretty sure I got scars to prove it!" Hoban smiled. "Tell me grandpa, what did you do to be kicked out of this fine place?"

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Jack listened to every word this woman spoke. He wanted to frown when he heard her father was a Jedi. She probably had an image of him being a hero and a member of the old order, but considering her age it was more than likely he was he ruthless killer, much like Jack. But it wasn't his place to destroy this imagine in her head, this imagine could even be used as an advantage.

 

"Maybe... I can help you..."

 

Jack's smile brightened, "Thank you very much, I'll make sure it'll be put into good use for the good of galaxy, and it's much safer on you. Such a weapon in such a place like this can do more trouble than good. So much credits do you need? 100? 200? 300?"

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Vin looked up from his table to see the two bouncers throw out the poor old man into the dark streets of the underworld. Not like he did anything wrong though, the drunk was the one who started it.

 

With the news about this Jack Goren, it was a wonder if he'd avoid capture. With Vin however, it was different case; he himself left the Order when he was just given an assignment to investigate the work of the Exchange in the Underworld. Thanks to both the training provided by Atton Rand (learning how to block your mind by playing cards in your head) and strong tension of anger and hatred spreading throughout the Underworld, similar to that of Nar Shadda, Vin has been invisible to the order for about a week, before they would even realise.

 

During the week, Vin had employed himself as a freelance Mercenary, and was trying desperatly to find a job to get off Coruscant. Public transport was risky.

 

But what really was on his mind was the pulsations of the force leading to a Lightsaber. He looked through the rioting crowds of the Cantina to identify where it was coming from. Could it be someone from the Order hunting for Goren? Or perhaps for Vin? Or was it just someone who kept a Lightsaber to help them sleep at night?

 

Which ever the case, Vin thought it best to leave the Cantina and disapear once again into the darkness. He skulled his drink down, pulled his hood over his head, and left the counter. He accidently bumped into a man who was talking to a younger girl, talking briefly to one another.

 

"Sorry, sir..." he apoligised, but didn't have time to look at the face. He walked out of the Cantina and into the night air.

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Rena was happy to know that she could keep her father's lightsaber for good use. If Jack needed help to clear his name, she was willing to help. Finally, she could have an adventure!

 

The young 17-year-old sat there, wondering if she should take any credits from someone she just met. "Are you sure you want me to have any credits? I don't want to be a burden."

 

She stood up and smiled. "I almost forgot. My name's Rena Young." She extended her hand out towards him for a handshake.

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Aryn was getting impatient. She strode forward, just as the young girl introduced herself to Jack. "Rena Young, the man you speak to has introduced himself as Jack. I am Aryn Vexxlin." She put her hand on Jack's shoulder. "Much as I'd love to let you keep up this quaint little conversation, we had really better be going."

 

To Rena, she added, "We have precious little time. Either give Jack your father's lightsaber, take his money or..." She paused, as if startled that she was considering a third option. Finally, she nodded and concluded, "... or come with us."

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Kossiyk walked out of Josyk's backroom reception area into the main cantina, into the comforting and familiar atmosphere of Jizz-Wailing and the scents of stale booze, stale clients, and the whiskey-soaked vomit of the overindulgent.

 

If this felt like home, he wasn't going to be sad about leaving.

 

Goren. Jack Goren. If I was a Jedi on the run from other Jedi, what would I do?

 

Escaping Coruscant was out of the question, the planetary defense grid would fry him unless he had proper authorization and someone else to man the speakers. And if you can't go up on Coruscant, you've still got five miles to go down.

 

So it would be the depths of Coruscant, the dark underbelly that Kossiyk knew most that he would find his 'prey'. A pity that he didn't know the human's scent, or he'd be on his trail already.

 

He left the bar, headed out to his speeder and tuned in to the 24/7 Coruscant News Service. Panicky reports about Dantooine wildlife savagings, a minor uprising on Qiilura that ended violently with a considerable number of dead, and an entreaty to enlist in the Republic Navy.

 

At least you'll be doing the killing instead of getting killed.

 

He snorted as he entered the apartment complex he called his home. Kossiyk, again, switched on the news service to play while he headed to his 'Storage Area'.

 

The Storage Area was a rather chilling sight. Floor to ceiling, five feet wide, weapons. Standard blasters and vibroblades mounted alongside saberdart launchers, ryyk blades, a Bowcaster, and other esoteric weapons. About the only thing he was missing was a Lightsaber and a Sith Lanvarok, and he had a lead on a Lanvarok.

 

This was a case that would require precision over raw firepower. A Merr-Sonn MSB-C7 Blaster Carbine was the ideal choice, accurate and deadly. He slung the carbine across his chest, putting the shoulder strap on as he did so to hold it in place. An extendable vibroblade was another good choice, particularly if he had Jedi to worry about. This particular blade had once been the property of a rather paranoid fellow, custom-made with a cortosis weave. The collapsibility was handy, too, able to store something the size of an average ryyk-blade into a spot the size of a blaster pistol. Kossiyk slid this piece into a sheath at his left hip.

 

As for his backup..

 

He unholstered his slug pistol and looked at it, ejecting the clip and counting the bullets. Seven, out of a capacity of twelve. Good. He slid the clip back into it.

 

A Blas-Tech DL-6 was the obvious choice as a backup. It didn't pack as much raw power as the MSB-C7, but it had enough to blow through unarmored targets like Jedi and it had a huge charge. He slid this into the holster on his right thigh.

 

Armed to the teeth, Literally. Kossiyk headed back out to his speeder, powered it back on, and waited. Goren was young. He couldn't wait forever.

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The pale fingers grasped the soft skin on the neck of a human man. The pale fingers burrowed deeper into the neck, lifting the man who was like in a trance. In the shadows of the Undercity nobody cared if you screamed. But the human did not scream even as two equally pale worm-like tentacles moved up his face. The pale man holding the human grunted, pleased as he fed off the soup of the human. A minute passed by before the human was let to slump to the ground of the back street. The Jedi robes were still like pristine and the human within them looked peaceful. The two tentacles slid back into their covers that folded against the predator's nose. As further protection from his true kind being found out, the pale man covered his nose with a cloth going back to his neck and then continuing along his shoulders.

 

Only a few moments later, Kilmor Rythe entered the cantina nearby. He was the owner, so no wonder he would do this. The bartender greeted his boss and a waitress droid scurried by.

"Had a good lunch, boss?" the bartender asked from the man who simply nodded, silently in his mind chuckling at the blissful ignorance of all those around him. Despite this, he felt nervous. Jedi were digging around everywhere in the Undercity because of some rogue Jedi, his cantina being famous to the Jedi as a den of such scum, thus having them concentrate on the nearby areas instead of spreading out all over the Undercity. If they only knew how right they were on the scum part. If they only knew that the owner himself was like he was, they would no doubt forget any peaceful approach to the matter.

 

It was time for the owner's walk-through of the cantina, approaching the closest table and chatting a few words with them before continuing on. Eventually he walked over to the table of Jack Goren and his companions.

"Hey there. I'm the owner of this here establishment. You enjoying yourselves alright? Great! You need anything, get in touch, yeah?" he said swiftly, giving no time for them to answer before departing again to the next table. However, the table party left a gnawing feel to his gut. Something that alarmed him of danger and something that he rarely dismissed lightly. Due to this, he glanced several times at the party while going through the rest of the tables. Unfortunately for Kilmor, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

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Rena suddenly looked at the other girl who started to talk to her. She looked a little younger than her. But it was a surprise that someone her age was so tough in the Undercity.

 

The young girl rubbed her neck nervously. "I... I can join you all. With my father's lightsaber, I'll be loyal to be on your side, Jack." Rena smiled. Then she saw the owner of the cantina speaking to the trio.

 

"Hey there. I'm the owner of this here establishment. You enjoying yourselves alright? Great! You need anything, get in touch, yeah?"

 

Rena nodded. Then she turned back to Aryn and Jack. "Okay. I think everything's settled. But Aryn's right. We'd better be going."

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"I... I can join you all. With my father's lightsaber, I'll be loyal to be on your side, Jack."

 

Jack couldn't believe what Aryn had offered. Jack planned to the edge of the universe, which was no way a safe place for a young girl like Rena. But he needed the light saber if he wanted to survive this place and the harsh galaxy around him, so instead of expressing his complaints, he smiled just sheepishly and said "Ermm Great"

 

With Rena joining the duo, now trio, Jack stood up and headed for the door. He knew that his pursuer would have left by now and would return to the hunt after a while. Jack knew this assassins style, and would probably wait for Jack to be alone before he went for the kill, more than likely in some sort of arena battleground. As the trio left he crowded bar into equally as stuff outdoors, Jack told the other two what his plan was.

 

"Alright, the plan is to get ourselves a spaceship, once their we need to go to Queyta to meet an old friend of mine," Jack explained, before drawing an artifact covered in clothe from his pocket. He pealed away the clothe to reveal the glowing red artifact, it glow had a strange effect on Jack's two companions, they were almost hypnotized by it. Jack noticed the raising hands of Rena and Aryn, both wanting to touch it, causing him to realize the potential dark power this artifact seemed to have on people. But why didn't he feel any different when he looked at it?

 

The recovered the artifact and slipped it back into his pocket.

 

"My friend is an archaeologist, he'll be able to study it and figure out what it is, and why this damn thing has seemed to make me enemy number 1, any questions?"

 

((Note, sorry for the bit of character control, but this artifact's hypnotic power is story element and I wanted to introduce it now, before this baby really does the bad stuff))

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((No problemo, steven. :) ))

 

Rena was outside with Aryn and Jack, along with her father's lightsaber in her bag. Jack told them his plans, when all of sudden... she saw a red crystal he held in his hand, in a piece of cloth.

 

The young girl was so hypnotized, that she raised her hand to touch it. Her eyes glowed red a little. But suddenly, the red crystal was gone. Rena shook her head and placed her hand on her head.

 

"My friend is an archaeologist, he'll be able to study it and figure out what it is, and why this damn thing has seemed to make me enemy number 1, any questions?"

 

"Yeah... what just happened?" Rena said, coming back to her conscious.

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