Welcome to Gaia! ::

Mordranna's eyes lit up. "A race, you say?" she asked Neb with a hint of amusement.
"Where to?"

"Oh, and Ganil? If you feel confident enough in your skill, you can always try to lift an Xwing or a Starfighter in the hangar. I'm afraid the cruiser I own is a bit heavy for one person, even the masters on the council... but I guess you could try lifting one end up. I have a race to perform to get Mor's speed up."

Neb turned to Mordranna, before looking around. "The race will basically be a foot race. I'll go slow enough for you, and you basically have to keep up with me. We'll increase the speed until you can keep up at a decent pace... I'm pretty fast naturally, but If you can keep up, you'll be fine..."

"No place in particular. Just... leave it to chance." Neb stated, taking off at a jog and speeding up gradually.

"Selk!" A woman was pounding after him, her oil and grease-stained jumpsuit flapping and picking up drag as its wearer desperately pursued her quarry. "Selk!" she screamed again, trying to keep herself calm. But none of her Jedi training had prepared her for things like this, for real life. She rounded a corner and saw a man who looked younger than the Selkisto who stood in Sharba's armory, but was somehow more tortured, panicked, and misdirected.

He was staring down a deep chasm by one of the larger CEC factories. It was immense, and at its bottom was a ring that spiraled out, twisting and churning to provide power for machines and robots and control systems and who knew what else. Selkisto was almost in a dreamlike state, and it made him appear wild; his eyes and hair looked like those of a madman. This was the effect of a rough night in a pub and copious amounts of alcohol, but he had calmed down considerably, though his appearance could never have proved that. His focus was on the twisting motion of the machine a good kilometer below; it was mesmerizing, it tempted him to look closer.

He knew that to fall to meet it would mean instant death. The area was sealed off by the CEC, so there were no safety precautions to keep people from falling, and this was a situation Selkisto wished to take full advantage of. The void that appeared to be only inches in front of his boots was calling to him. It would end his misery, take away his past, and make him eternally oblivious to pain and suffering, two things that had haunted him since his childhood.

Selkisto continued to stare into the gyrating machine, thinking back to the first time he got the idea to kiss its wide maw. Yes. Yes... when he saw that girl laying in the alley, covered in her own blood and other body fluids, legs splayed open and a vacant look on her face. What disgusted him most was not the image itself, but the fact that he was able to shrug and walk on. That he had been so conditioned by his miserable life to ignore these things, without any pang of compassion. His world was so full of ugliness and festering disease, so unwelcome to all walks of life who tried to inhabit it, that it no longer seemed worth living in.

He thought of that as he walked by the CEC grounds for what must have been the umpteenth time. He suddenly got the urge to investigate the strange metal-wrenching sound that echoed from beyond the markers that declared the boundaries of Corellian Engineering Corporation's ownership. The boundaries were easily passed through, and a quick jog up to a ledge of a cliff lead to a spectacular and breathtaking view of CEC's wealth and power.

But Selkisto had come to investigate that noise. He found its source and was enthralled from the moment he laid eyes on the thing. It had an air of death about it, a sinister aura that promised eternal rest with a wink and a grin. He hadn't seen or reacted to anything quite like it, and he stared at it for a long time, wondering how much life was worth in the world outside its cavernous belly.

He returned home long after that. The house seemed deserted, but a woman was sleeping upstairs. Not just any woman of course, a Jedi woman. Why did that fact seem so much more important to him than the fact that she was his wife? He shook his head. He'd done enough thinking for that evening. He nabbed some food from a modest refrigeration unit in the kitchen, gulped it down, and crashed noisily on the woman's bed, leaving a dent where his body lay on the side opposite hers.

She noticed that he was different, but didn't say anything. Those Jedi were always the ones to stand back and watch quietly, waiting for things to play out. That's supposedly what came with wisdom, the ability to passively affect one's environment.

It made him sick. He could have no such peace.

He passed by the CEC compound again every day for the next few months, stealing a look at a black network of gnashing metal before forcing his wistful gaze away and marching to work.

His job was not unpleasant, but had been degenerating as time wore on. What had once been a thrilling and exhilarating feeling spawned from the joy of speed and fast-moving air was increasingly reduced to a paltry, meaningless activity. There was no joy or passion in it anymore, no glee to be found in pushing these hovering hotrods to new heights and breaking new barriers. It had become merely his job, and simply that. Selkisto did as he was told and performed his actions by rote for hours before walking away to get drunk.

The next event that hit him was another one not important for the image it left. Selkisto was limping back home, planning to take a quick look at his new obsession, when he saw a small child begging in the street. It was a fairly common sight; though Corellia was one of the worlds where the general standard of living was high and poverty was low, there were always those at the bottom of society, feeding off the trash it had dropped and crushed underfoot.

The child, who could not have been older than seven, was staring at passersby, wide and bright blue eyes pleading silently. His older sister was curled up next to him, her waif-thin body barely visible above the walkway. He'd seen kids like this at least four times today, but was always lost in his own thoughts until now. Now he simply stopped and stared, yearning for an end to the bitter cruelty of the world.

No one stopped to offer them anything. Few even noticed the two orphans. People strode by, laughing, holding hands, chatting casually to each other in front of the two starved children. Selkisto almost began to break down on the spot, but he composed himself and saved his anguish for the machine at the bottom of the cliff.

That was only a couple of weeks ago. The event that snapped his last nerve and made him lose all faith in the 'civilizations' of the galaxy had occurred not long ago. What was it? It escaped him so easily, now that his mind was filled with wonderful happy thoughts of death. Oh yes, the Jedi. The woman who never said anything to him anymore and slept on the other side of the bed. What had she done? Oh, that's right. She yelled at him. He was losing his job again. She couldn't keep him working at CEC anymore because he was a drain on the company. How ridiculous, him alone making a significant dent in one of the largest corporations in the galaxy! And then what? She did something...

Oh, she'd hit him. Smacked him across the face. Could Jedi do that? No, they couldn't, could they? But could wives? Yes, they most definitely could- his mother had done it many times. What did he do? He ran away. Here he was, standing on this ledge, because he ran away. His father would have hit back. But then, his father didn?t really love his mother, did he? And she never really loved him, did she? Neither of them loved him; that he was certain of.

He stared at the opening just beyond. It looked so warm and inviting. Happy, joyous death. He scolded himself for distracting his thoughts away from it. What had distracted him so? His wife? Yes, that was it. She didn't love him. She didn't understand. She was too busy to love him, with so much work. She didn't even try to find out why he was always sad, did she? Did she?

"No, she didn't." Selkisto took a deep breath, a breath he quickly spit out. He didn't want anything in him to remind him of the horrible place he was about to leave behind. He leaned forward.

"Selk!?" the woman screamed, running towards him. Reacting instinctively, he twirled around, catching her by the stomach and grabbing her, doubling her over. She had her lightsaber. She was going to attack him! Stop him from meeting his fate! He pulled the lightsaber from her belt, tossed it aside, and screamed at her. It was an incoherent roar that surged through his veins, filling them with the blood of a drunken animal. He was angry at this woman, angry at her for not knowing what was wrong with him. Without a thought, he pushed her towards the cliff, snarling at her for her failure.

She fought back. She had lost her lightsaber and had tears streaming down her face, but she fought back with the will of a dozen animals. His will was stronger, his body fueled by liquids that delayed pain for a later time. As they fought over the edge of the outcropping of rock, the metal demon at the bottom grinned in delight, goading him on. Finally, he could take no more of it. Wrapping his hand around his pistol, he decked her across the head. She fell, limp, and tumbled off the cliff into the greedy mouth below.

"Oh, god." He didn't want her to die. He never dreamed that she could. He didn't have the strength to turn his head away as the only woman he ever loved was sucked into the greedy gullet of the machine that had tormented him for the past months.

Selkisto crouched on the edifice, wringing his hands and burying his face between his knees, screaming in anguish. Why did he do that? He was supposed to die! He was the one that deserved death, that was so consumed by pain and sorrow that he couldn?t bear to live, not her. She was beautiful and sweet, and represented all that was good in this world. Now she was gone, and never again would he have the chance to appreciate her knowing smiles or casual glances. His skin would never be caressed by her lips and her laugh would never echo through the home that stood empty, miles away. He had lost everything again, and again it was dumb luck, a cruel and terrible mistress, that escorted him through peril so that he could stand on his feet and watch as those closest to him were torn away.

"Salvai..."

He moaned and sobbed, his tear stained face coating him in salt water that remained layered there as he cried himself to sleep, dragged into a restless and hellish world of nightmares.

((oh god im so sorry guys!!!! this internet is sooo bad i cant begin to tell you. my all apologies....also tell me if ive missed something...cuz just opening a page is murder so im going by memory...))

"Drako..Drako..Drako...let's forget old girevances shall we? Come back to me, we can conquer the galaxy once more. I'll soon have an army, a secret I'll let you in on if you accept my deal. With Angel as my left hand, take back your place as my right. What say you Drako?"


((Nelo Angel and Oryo: If I dont come on within the next...5/6 days and you need to, puppet me. After that, Ill be back in good old San Diego with broadband again so the old FP will be back))

Drako looked down at his old master. The vents on his back went off making the cloak he had on kick up. He bent over slowly and got to Hos old masters level.

" Know this......I am no ones ......RIGHT hand. I am my own body. But......"

Drako stood up strait. He tapped a claw on the ground thinking.

" I am no fool.....i will not be tricked again. You have me at your command."

Drako tapped his comm. He spoke softly.

" My men are coming."

"Very well. You're Mandalorians will be my elites. And you shall have the privelage as their General. Now where did ANgel go?"

Drako continued to tap one of his tallons on the ground. ' Tink Tink Tink'

" General? Hrmmm......I like that. General Drako Prime. Know this......you are not my master. " Prime glared at Phoenix.

" Novara will be here shortly....he was still unable to find ....some one. He and his men will pick us up. Lest you have transport? Oh.....and we will have company soon. In teaching Angle....i pissed off a band of HK-47s. We must leave."