Flagg

Star Wars: The Heretic

@Flagg still have room?

@Color_Weaver

Absolutely

Star Wars: The Heretic

@Blitzyaccepted!

Star Wars: The Heretic

@Wrathhog accepted!

Star Wars: The Heretic

@seonhyang accepted!

Star Wars: The Heretic

@Fiscbryneaccepted. I have a few minor thoughts I’ll share on discord

Star Wars: The Heretic

"Beautiful," the man said, nodding towards the panoramic window behind the Admiral's desk, beyond which the asteroids of the Semiramis Cluster hurtled and spun through the void, bathed in the pale cyan light of the distant sun.

The admiral snorted and waved a beringed hand, "Rocks."

He stood by the drinks cart and poured himself and his guest glasses of Corellian brandy. He didn't bother with ice, just filled both cups nearly to the brim. His guest, somewhat to the admiral's surprise, accepted the drink with a small smile.

"To your good health," he said, raising his glass and taking a sip.

The admiral sat down behind his desk and took a long drink, running his hand through unkempt and graying hair. His guest sat.

"Only reason I haven't had you shot for what you've done is, serious people tell me you're a serious man," said the admiral, leaning back in his chair and hoisting black-booted feet onto his desk, careless of the dataslates sprawled across it. One snapped beneath his heel, "One I might want to think twice about crossing. I have to take their word for it, being not entirely serious myself anymore, in these inglorious times."

The other man gave a small, noncommittal shrug and took another sip of his brandy.

"You had to bring that Jedi garbage to sell here? What was wrong with Hutt Space?" asked the admiral.

"I was under the impression you were happy with our arrangement."

"Mining and selling those ludicrous crystals was our arrangement, not laundering the Emperor's most prized possessions!" snapped the Admiral, "The End is impossible for Imperial timeservers and our beloved local Moff to find, not so hard for that freak..."

"Vader."

"Yes, him," said the admiral with a shudder.

"You are running a rebel base," said the other man, lightly, "One you know as well as I they will track down sooner or later, once they net their bigger fish. You and I also know you have planned for that contingency. I haven't shortened the life span of your beloved home."

The admiral snorted, "Well I doubt they'll come in guns blazing, for the moment. More likely we'll be flooded with their spies and Jedi sniffers."

"Exactly," said the other man, and smiled.

Star Wars: The Heretic

@Auz accepted!

Star Wars: The Heretic

@Blitzy@Stormflyx@Tlaloc@Chev@Wrathhog@Auz@Fiscbryne@Naril@Blackmist16

aaaaand anyone I missed, OOC is up! roleplayerguild.com/topics/184403-sta…

Star Wars: The Heretic

Name: Adamantious Xen
Species: Human
Sex: M
Profession: Pirate lord who moonlights as a Rebel admiral
Reason for being present in the Bitter End: He runs the place

Looks

Personality Description: Scoundrel, borderline drunk, crazy like a fox, maybe a bit force-sensitive

Skirmish over Ulam

The long hull of the Ancestral Right cut through the void like an immense predator through the deep. A cloud of vulture droids swarmed around its hull. Agile, dumb and easily replaced, even TIE squadrons could slice with ease through these relics of the Clone Wars. Embedded in the swarm, however, were the Admiral's prized weapons: X-Wings in escort formation, dangerous not only to distracted TIEs but even to the Empire's beloved capital ships.

The rest of the Rebel fleet- an eclectic mix of aging Seperatist vessels, stolen Imperial cruisers, and a few Alliance escorts of modern design- followed in Ancestral Right's wake.

Admiral Xen stood not on his ship's bridge, but in the elevated observation chamber that made the Providence-class's profile so distinctive. Command staff of all races, even droids, bustled around him, busy with the business of looming bloodshed. Xen's eyes tracked the progress of his vessels across a holo-projection of Uslam's orbit, occasionally glancing to the chamber's large windows for confirmation of the virtual display, on which the red daggers were closing in.

The Moff's fleet was advancing on them from three sides, meaning to trap them against Uslam itself. There was a narrow gap in the Imperial alignment, highlighted on the holo-display- through which the rebels might flee without trading fire with the attackers.

Admiral Xen had a low opinion of the Moff's abilities, but not low enough to see such an obvious flaw in his opponent's formation as anything other than a trap. More to the point, he had no interest in retreating without killing some Imperials first. He studied the holo-display.

The VSD Punisher was the nearest vessel to hand, advancing in the shadow of the ISD Vronksr. Xen had his target.

"All vessels: the destroyer Punisher is our pound of flesh. She dies before we jump, and anyone who jumps before I give the word, I hunt down. You'll wish the Imperials had gotten to you," said Xen on the fleet's command channel, "Hutt formation, please- heavy up front, nice thin tail. You may absolutely begin firing when in range."

The comms channel filled with "ayes!" and "yes sirs!"

"Intruder and Cutlass Squadrons," said Xen.

"Reporting in," crackled the COs of two fighter-bomber squadrons noticeably absent from the rebel formation, hidden among nearby asteroids and orbital debris.

"You know what to do," said Xen.

"Yes Admiral."

"Sir," said a lanky Duro to Xen's right, "Transmission from the enemy fleet incoming."

The Admiral arched an eyebrow, "Let's hear it then."

A holo-projection of Moff Whyte replaced the battlefeed in front of Xen. He did not transmit an image of himself back.

“This is Moff Wyte. I advise you stand down and surrender now, fighting only prolongs the inevitable, this is your first and final warning.”

"We've been warned, gents!" said Xen to the command staff, to general laughter. Whyte's holodisplay flickered out.

"Would you like to respond, sir?" asked the Duro lieutenant.

Xen turned to the window, where the serrated dagger hull of the Punisher grew larger by the second against the huge white orb of Uslam. A flicker of turbo-laser fire, still inaccurate at this range, lashed out at the rebel formation from the ship. In the distance, the Vronksr was cruising at full speed to support its smaller cousin.

"We'll let our guns do the negotiating," said the Admiral, "Open fire."

****

The observation chamber was dark, like the nave of a temple, the only light coming from the blue glow of the central holodisplay, Uslam's pale radiance, and the turbolaser exchange taking place just beyond the thick glass windows.

Admiral Xen stood at the holo-projector, where the ferocious and silent battle outside was playing out in miniature before him. His head was bowed, like a man at prayer.

He was not praying.

His narrowed eyes were tracking the markers for Intruder squadron as they completed their run on Punisher. He watched as the squadron CO's X-Wing flashed red, then was gone, and as the XO's ship spun masterfully out of flak and tracer fire, taking out two TIEs in the same number of seconds.

Clang. The XO's callsign was Clang.

The Admiral tilted his head a moment, seemed to consider something, then straightened up. Outside, Punisher drew near, venting flames and atmosphere from at least four serious holes punched in her hull by Cutlass and Intruder. Good sized, but not fatal. Xen would see to that. Behind Punisher loomed Vronskr, already directing long-range fire at the rebel flag-ship, shrugged off for the moment by the Right's intact shields.

The battery exchange between Xen's battlegroup and the Punisher intensified as the rebels closed on the Star Destroyer. The Imperial vessel's forward shields glowed red, with ragged tears beginning to open along the energy seams.

"Alright, get in close and ugly," said Xen, "Keep Punisher between us and Vronskr."

The Right's captain shot back a terse acknowledgement from the bridge.

"All vessels," said Xen, "get your shots in on the Victory destroyer, then jump. Scimitar and Saber squadrons stay with me, keep those TIEs off the Right and use the vulture-screen to absorb fire. When I jump, you jump. Intruder, Cutlass, Broadsword and Stranger squadrons, get out of here."

Acknowledgments crackled in over the comms. The Right pulled alongside Punisher and let loose a catastrophic broadside, popping the Imperial ship's shields in a bloom of azure and crimson light.

The rebel fleet unloaded on the un-shielded Victory as one by one ships disappeared into hyperspace, fleeing to relative safety. Not all of them were so lucky. Vronskr's guns claimed the Corellian corvette Ashland and the Recusant destroyer Gamekeep as they powered up to jump.

Xen watched their icons disappear on his display. He spat onto the deck with a sneer.

Meanwhile, his flagship and Punisher danced, the rebel ship pivoting constantly to keep out of Vronskr's line of fire. The space between Punisher and Ancestral Right was a blinding flurry of scarlet and jade. Explosions raked Punisher's failing hull and the vessel began to come apart, its serrated-dagger frame splitting crookedly.

Vronskr- eager for a chance to take the rebel flag ship- fired on its lesser cousin, obliterating it and sinking a row of shots into the Right's prow, setting scores of decks ablaze.

There was an azure flash, and it was over. The Right was gone.

Xen had fled. The only rebel ships remaining were a handful of suddenly mindless vulture droids and the burning husk of Gamekeep spinning in the void, amid the vast smoldering ruin of Punisher.

Uslam's orbit belonged to the Empire once more.

****

"...and finally, Gamekeep, with all 120 souls," said Lieutenant Mavdi, looking up from his dataslate to the Admiral.

Xen sucked his teeth and shook his head, "Butcher always takes his bill."

The Admiral was quiet for a long moment. He was sprawled lazily across the Captain's Throne in the center of the command bay, legs draped over the left armrest, a goblet wine stolen from the Moff's cellars on Uslam in his be-ringed hand.

"Hers was higher, though," he said at last, and sipped his wine, "Not that she cares an ounce for her scraping little lackeys. She'd shoot 'em all into space if it got her an audience with the old witch doctor on the throne."

The command staff paid him little attention as they busied themselves with their tasks. The half-sober pontifications of Adamantius Xen were just another fact of life in the Alliance to Restore the Republic.

Ancestral Right was idling in deep space, the hyperdrive cycling and preparing to fire once more to take them to the Bitter End, the not-so-affectionate nickname rebel deckhands used for Xen's base of operations deep in the Semiramis Asteroid Cluster. Only a handful of the fleet from Uslam clustered around the Right, the others had made other jumps to pre-designated deadzones. It was Xen's practice never to jump directly between a base or stronghold and an engagement, to confound enemy trackers. Since joining the Alliance, Xen had been given jammer systems designed to prevent Imperial hyperspace plotting, but a pirate's instincts are hard to overcome with new toys.

"We're ready to jump sir," said Mavdi.

"Take us home."

Name: Callidus
Species: Human
Sex: M
Profession: Jedi Master? Sith Lord?
History: The man known as Callidus --or, perhaps, Darth Callidus-- was thought by some on the Jedi High Council to have been a Jedi Master named Valens Sarethi, who disappeared several decades before the Clone Wars. At the time Sarethi had been presumed dead.

During the Clone Wars, some on the Council discovered evidence that Sarethi was stil alive, fallen to the Dark Side, and had taken the name Callidus. Just why they believed this is now unclear.

Since the fall of the Jedi, only confused rumors remain, though the Imperial Inquisition are searching for a heretic dark side user they believe to be the same man.

Reason for being present in the Bitter End: Is he?

Looks

Star Wars: The Heretic

The Bitter End

Welcome to the Bitter End. Elsewhere in the galaxy, it's the height of the Empire. Things are looking bad for the nascent Rebellion. Luke Skywalker is just a kid on Tatooine.

But here, the Confederacy of Independent Systems still rules. At least the pirate-lord of the asteroid city, a dashing drunk known as Adamantious Xen, insists it does, and he's fighting for it. He's a big thorn in the local Moff's side, raiding shipping lanes and under-manned Imperial bases with his rag-tag fleet of Lucrehulks and Providence cruisers. A few factories deep within the bowels of the End still churn out reliable old B1s, giving Xen something of a private army.

The Rebellion is wary of him, but he's proven a useful (if less than scrupulous) ally on more than one occasion.

The End isn't easy to find, but if you're a smuggler or a pirate or someone connected with the Hutts, it's not impossible either. It's become something of a hub for outlaw activity in recent years, the place to go if you're looking to hire a bounty hunter, contract with a team of mercenaries, contact Rebel intelligence, or maybe just lay low for awhile. Despite the security risks, Xen has been tolerant of his base becoming a hub in the galactic black market. He skims generously off the top, the better to fund his one-man fight for the Confederacy.

Question is: why are you here?

It's rhetorical. We know why. You're looking for him.

For Callidus.

Some say he's a Jedi who went rogue. Others, more versed in the occult, that he's a Sith, that he considers himself Darth Callidus, that he was a student of Plagueis. Maybe both rumors are true, perhaps neither. One thing is clear: the Empire is looking for him. There was a break-in, you see, in the Emperor's own vaults. A number of artifacts were stolen. Holocrons, some say.

We know you're here for Callidus. We know you're here because one of the artifacts taken from Palpatine's vaults-- the ancient lightsaber of to a venerable Jedi philosopher-- was recently sold in the auction houses of the Bitter End for a breathtaking sum of credits. What we don't know is who you are.

A Jedi, on the run, seeking allies?

A Rebel spy, searching for a man capable of stealing from the Emperor himself?

An Imperial Inquisitor, looking to get back what was stolen?

An aspiring dark side adept, hungry for forbidden truths?

A lackey of the pirate lord, keeping tabs on who comes and goes from the Bitter End?

A Hutt retainer, looking to make a deal on the Emperor's stolen property?

Bounty hunter? Assassin? Smuggler?

Who? Who are you, and why are you seeking the heretic Sith?

Discord

So you have pretty wide leeway in terms of character creation for this RP, which is set between Revenge of the Sith and Rogue One/A New Hope. I'm not too much of a Star Wars lore stickler, so we can take this plot in any direction players would like, though there will be an initial plot to get players pursuing various related goals. Any questions or to talk thru ideas, hit me up here, by PM, or on Discord. I encourage folks to collaborate to give characters shared backstory & existing connections.

Character Sheet:

Name:
Species:
Sex:
Profession:
Reason for being present in the Bitter End: some characters should be seeking Callidus, but I'm open to some players being at the End for other reasons.
Looks: (pictures acceptable)
Personality Description:
Character bio: in four bullets or less
Short IC scene (optional but welcomed): you can skip looks, history and personality description if you can write a brief scene that communicates some of the key info about your character.