Welcome to Gaia! ::

Link made his way through the thick forest growth, passing with ease through the brush.
He was going on dead reckoning since he had only briefly glimpsed some kind of settlement from the window of the pod before it crashed.
But he was certain he was going the right way. The Force was his guide, and it had yet to let him down.
He wondered about what he would find, what dangers his ancestor might have left behind for robbers to find, and what clues he would find regarding his ancestor's treasures.
Though his mind puzzeled these thoughts, they did not distract him from his current situation. He was alone on a vibrant alien world. Its dangers were totally unknown, and as such he must remain alert.
For several hours he hiked, quiet, attentive to the ebb and flow of life in the forest. At last he spied a clearing ahead of him, a clearing that possesed several overgrown buildings that he could view from his vantage point.
As he neared the clearing he caught sight of... a ship. A modern ship.
And a camp. And what looked like a band of explorers. And among them was a very familiar looking Museum Guide he met last week.
"Da'shiong bao'jah'shr duh la doo'tze." Link cursed as he plunged through the foliage towards the group.

((CW: How bout we fast foreward to the next day? I've run out of stuff to do 'today', lets move on to 'tomorrow'.))

(( G'd idea. ))

Freya awoke the next morning.
"Good morning, Lady Starsinger," Kalnar greeted her. "Today, we shall meet with the senate,"
"Allright." Freya said, "But, first, I totally call dibs on the 'fresher!"

A couple hours later, Freya and the others arrived at the Mon Cal senatorial building, with Kalnar in the lead. The group traveled down a hall of marble, said marble being a beautiful blend of light and dark blues, akin to the sea the Calamari loved.

"Order, order!" chimed in the Calamari Head of State. "We shall now hear out the petition to reform the Galactic Alliance, and align with the Community,"
Casting a sympathetic look to Freya, the Chief addressed her first. "Lady Starsinger. It is my understanding that you wish to continue your father's work?"
"Like, of course!" Freya replied. "The Empire seeks to totally have control of the galaxy, with no thought towards the little guy!"
The Chief sagely nodded, considering Freya's words. "But, of course," He then looked to other senators in attendance. "However, be mindful that the corruption of the Empire is not from Fel himself, but with the Moffs."

With a flash of pseudo-motion two Kar Asp starfighters dropped out of hyperspace at the just beyond the Ord Mantell no-jump zone. Their ships were unchallenged as they headed for the planet, weaving between occasional freighters and larger craft. Within an hour they were in orbit.

Revak Valar studied his sensors as he read the computer’s entry on the world, “Alright Calra, we’ll need to replace the equipment we lost. So our first stop is the junkyard, then we’ll head to one of the spaceports and try to find a means of employing our skills.”

“Roger that, I’ll follow you down,” She answered smartly.

Within moments the two fighters had found a tiny space which would fit their craft in the middle of a debris field which stretched for kilometers in all directions. With a hiss the landing gear dropped and the nose of the fighter canted forward bringing it to settle against the hull plate beneath it.

When the cockpit rose and admitted the local atmosphere in Revak’s nostrils flared, and he immediately sneezed from the powerful onslaught of fumes. He hastily pulled out his helmet and slipped it back on and sealed it against the local air, behind him Calra sat in her open cockpit leaning back lazily in the cockpit apparently unaffected by the fumes.

Warriors! His mind roared, but he cut off the thought just as quickly… That wasn’t kind to Calra, it was her loyalty that had kept him alive through the coupe. With that he shoved both thoughts aside and set to work.

Almost any piece of scrap was enough for him; it wasn’t the parts he wanted but the component elements in them. He grabbed a rusty old Blastech A280 whose trigger had rusted out. Through the force he shattered the molecular bonds that had held it together and separated the elements from each other giving him a pile each of carbon, silicon, iron, and a dozen other minor elements.

It was the work of another hour finding enough of the rarer metals in the scrap required for the items he had planned. With that done he sat beside the materials he gathered and closed his eyes thinking… Then he began to work, with the force he drew out four round clumps of carbon and began to structure them, imprinting a crystal lattice in their form and forcing the atoms closer together, like a ring of diamonds. Within ten minutes four gleaming focusing crystals sat ready.

Over the next eight hours an arsenal began to appear at his feet, first was a Kar Vak Lightsword, it was quickly joined by a pair of light-disks and a Kar Vada Plasma Pistol. Most of these items disappeared into Calra’s pockets and holsters, but the last two items took more time, a Plasma bomb to replace one which had been stolen as well as a Cluster Missile double mount that was compatible with the Kar Asp’s central hard-point. Finding the materials for these, especially the hydrogen and explosives had been a challenge, but as the sun was setting they were ready and were quickly mounted on the starfighters before they blasted off into the night.

The Corridors of the ship were streaked with blaster charr marks and the stink of burning tibanna.
He stood there, watching the monster feed upon the crewman, his horror and disgust only matched by his anger.
His lightsaber thrummed to life and with a roar he charged as the monster turned and raised a black metallic hand...

Something was wrong.
The birds and insects were quiet.
The force was trying to warn him of danger.

He lept down from the tree he had fallen asleep in and landed in silence.
He drew his sword, eyes searching for what had silenced the life in the forest.
He heard it, a shuffling through the brush, a staggered gait far off.

Then he spun about in a flash, sword extended.
He held his pose for three heartbeats.
There was a flash of sparks and electricity and with a groan an armed P1 collapsed to the ground.

"Of course. Naturally there would be more here." He muttered.

The Explorers.
He flicked a glance to the ship and saw shuffling zombie-like figures congregating near the hatch, vibroblades glistening in the light of the sister moons.

"Long night ahead." he muttered as he adjuisted his grip on his vibrosword.

"Not fer you dirt lubber!" A P1 howled as it sprang at Link from his left.

Link's sword flashed and there was a shriek of slicing metal as his blade hacked the droid down.
"You seem to be mistaken." Link said calmly.

"Oy! He slotted Rubben!" One of the P1's near the ship said as it pointed at Link. The majority turned and faced him, blasters armed.

Link's expression didn't change. He faced the droids and assumed a stance, holding the sword in his right hand, tip pointed down, his left hand gripping the sheath at his belt.

Emotion, yet peace.
Ignorance, yet knowledge.
Passion, yet serenity.
Chaos, yet harmony.
Death, yet the Force.

And then with a shout he charged.

Gorwooken sat next to Freya's chair in the senate, watching the preceedings. Truth be told, he was a little uncomfortable being watched by so many people. It was kind of funny that he, a Wookee warrior who used to tear Stormtroopers limb from limb during the Civl War, should feel so uncomfortable just by being looked at...