The Azure Expanse

[K_Feldspar]

A uniformed man, Captain by insignia, stands behind a communications officer. Their small bridge is illuminated by dim red lights that lend the area and its denizens a sinister appearance. In contrast to this environment a small blue hologram of an old man speaks to the standing figure. “I believe that you are in error to allow her to live, but she is your agent. Do as you see fit.”

The red-tinged captain presses an issue of interest to him, “and what of the rebels fleeing from Yavin? Is there anything particular you want from them?”

The wrinkled old hologram, somewhat irritated, spits a reply, “Those rebels are outside your operational sphere. You would do well to keep on task.”

Stygian hesistates, but presses the issue. “Sir, I understand that this has been assigned to other teams, but we already captured and are interrogating several individuals. I believe at least one to be a high ranking officer!”

“Be that as it may,” the hologram now waving Stygian off, “I expect you to transfer those captives to your brother when he passes through the area next. Just start transmitting...” Static just then interrupts him. “…especially the hyper” The blue man shimmers, and then abruptly disappears.

“Lieutenant?” Stygian calls out to his communications officer.

“Already on it, sir.” Comes the quick reply.

The sweat that suddenly appears on the face of the communication officer gives away his trepidation. After just a minute—certainly much longer in his mind—the lieutenant’s face relaxes. “Captain, we’ve lost the transmission from the relay station. Ship’s systems are in proper order.”

A curt grin passes over Stygian’s face for an instant. “Indeed? It’s a shame then that our last set of orders were not received, isn’t it?”

“Uh, yes, sir. A shame.” Stygian barely hears his officer’s reply as he strides off the bridge with new prizes on his mind.
_________________
"I don't believe it!"

"That is why you fail."

[Zeek]

(click, pop,click, click) Hello componets of the galaxy I'm Zeek the tech for this ship. I repair both the ship and the crew at least physically. I didn't plan on this. my whole life all i wanted to be was an exotic dancer. let me explain.

i came out of my pod on an asteriod just outside of the Shatori delta. It was one of the rocks that was part of my planet before it went KABlooie light years ago. As soon as i rolled out they knew i was one of the smart ones so the sent me to work in the local ship yards.

I spent the first 10 years of my life up to my upper plates in lubricant working as a medic and powersuit operator. I hated it. Sometimes i would sneak off, which isn't easy with Verpine.net on all the time, behind the ship yards and stare at the sky feeling its rhythm. it coarsed through my veins and and i would dance. I felt so alive. I would dance sometimes for the drones but one day i drove them into a spawning frenzy (100 new drones and 10 smart verpine were made that day. Damn I was good!). This attracted my manager and one thing led to another until I wound up, hydrospanner in hand on an outgoing Verpine claim vessel ( a.k.a. s*** pile). I was forbidden to dance on the ship.

2 months out we were raided by pirates. most of the crew died or were taken captive by Captain Zhank. He was Verpine and had been sailing for years looting imperial ships. I was put to work in his engine room as well as in the med bay. Some of the crew found me in a corner of the engine room dancing. They reported me to the captain saying that i was to much of a distraction in the engine room and that i wasn't natural. Zhank forbid me to dance around the crew. He did however request private dances in his quarters. i happily accepted this and eventually we fell in love some times we even touched antenna. we kept our secret safe from the crew. Times were happy then looting by day dancing by night. That lasted for about 5 years till the ambush.

we came upon a light cargo vessel carrying fuel for the empire. When we fire our first shot a light cruiser came out of hyperspace. The Captin and crew fought off the first two waves of the imperial assault but then suffered a critical hit to our hyperdrive. Zhank found me and put me into an escape pod. I told him i wouldn't leave without him he just clicked at me and winked we touched antenna and i sped off. In all the confusion I managed to escape unnoticed landing on a nearby Imperial planet.

They questioned me and I told them that I had beeen abducted by pirates from my ship years ago and i managed to escape. They didn't prod me any further but put me to work for a nearby factory. Same role as before. If it needs fixin just call on the Verpine

That was 8yrs ago I don't know if Zhank made it out alive but i havent danced since that day. Dammit Zhank......Click,clik,pop,click,pop, cliiick why'd you let me go and i hope your okay.

After I got laid off from the company that was really it for me i was gonna turn off the ole circuits so to speak. Then one thing led to another and i wound up with Captain cherrywood and crew. They are odd creatures. Edj tends to hide in the escape pod alot when he is not drinking himself into oblivion. the wookie Rikka tends to be angry a lot and yell incoherently at me usually after Zod is playing around in the tool room. That young human componet carves food into things which amuses me. Drax the older human componet tends to know a lot about galafa birds ( nervously looks around). He may know where they hide. He better watch out they have been known to kill humans for appetizers. I spend most of my time reconstructing a combat power suit that i dug up from the junk heap. but sometimes late at night i go on deck and thing about Zhank and i wanna dance.(click, click,pop)

goodbye componets

[K_Feldspar]

I never knew Verpines to have such strong emotions for each other--seeing as how they're asexual and all. Zeke, your story is touching, tragic, and yet, somewhat uncomfortable. And so for your emotional story of loss and hope I award you 3 extra character points. I'm sure that somewhere (music plays in background now) out there, your Captain Zhank is still the proverbial fly-in-the-ointment to Imperial shipping lanes.
_________________
"I don't believe it!"

"That is why you fail."

[Petey4335]

<tap><tap>

<click>

<tap><tap>

err, hello?

oh hey, a mic. neat. The other ship didn't even have one of these. Maybe I could write a memoir. Put that lame education to use.

Anyway.

captains log. <giggle> I always wanted to say that.

captain? Jack it, I own two ships now.

Admirals log. whats the day today? Nevermind I've never been good with dates.

Today is been a fine day with the crew. We got to outrun one of those new Star Destroyers while on escort duty for the Rebellion. Edj and Rika tagged a few Ties before we jumped. Drax needs some work with the forward battery. YEah, battery. Not some pea shooter. This ship is way above and beyond what I expected when I decided to leave that the Gang. Swoops are fun, but having a huge mass of durasteel under the fingertips in the stary vastness is much more exciting. Heck, even today, the kid Zod caught a Tie in the tractor. It nice to have someone who reminds me of me when I was that age. So bright eyed and the galaxy is such a wonder.

I remember those days.

That was 13 cycles ago for me. Man, thats half of my life away at this point.

Mom wanted me to go to this prissy private school. I never really knew who dad was. But apparently since I don't remember mom working much, she must have gotten a check cut from somewhere. Although, I do remember mom never liking politics; Always turning off the holonet when that poodoo came on. Anyway, At least I got to meet Flyr there. Flyr wasn't like any of my prissy classmates. Flyr taught me how to ride. Wind in the hair; metal at my fingertips. Jack yeah, Flyr and I had fun skipping and ripping of the rich kids rides. Two cycles of fun it was.

Then life changes. Fast. One night we went out joyriding. 15 we were. We've outran cops before. This was a bad night for it though. Foggy. Lights behind us, wind racing accross the face and a power droid. What was a power droid doing out in the middle of the night? I'll never know. The power droid ended that night along with the stolen speederbike and Flyr. I tried to move out of the way, but i tapped Flyr into a collision course with the power droid.

What was I to do now? Run. I'm not going to be able to explain this. Theres nothing left for me here. I have a few creds saved up.

Goodbye Eclipse. Not going to miss you.

So what could I do out in this universe? Jacking A, I can ride. Maybe I can find others who like to ride, but far away from here.

So after a few hops with some seedy tramps and out of creds, I ended up on Baleus. Man, swoops were everywhere out here. This was my kind of place. Heck, they even had race tracks and betting places.

No creds, no ride. Heck, i still have some skill at filching someone elses ride. That was a big mistake. How was I supposed to know that a gold cylinder meant it was owned by some ganger for Salchichas de Oro?

At least they didn't jacking cut my throat for it. Instead, they put me to work. 3 cycles they beat me, made me jack speeders; put me in the chop shop for awile and even run a few hits. I was never good at the chop shop.

After awile they started to trust me. Jack, sometimes we even stole a few small transports. More metal always meant more fun. Thats probably why I took Zod on. Last thing I'd want is another kid forced into labor for some gang.

For 6 cycles that was fun. Then Bliss came. Messing with property I can handle. Hooking some poor sap on Bliss made me feel like I was some sort of slaver. I was basically a slave. I know how jacking awful that is . It made me feel dirty.

So I bid my time. Saved some creds. Hech it only took a few more cycles and I had enough creds and sold my swoop and get my own transport. I thought maybe I can go legit. I'm sick of being poor.

Getting the crew was easy. People need jobs, I need people. Trustworty crew? Jack it. Is anyone really trustworthy?

Funny thing how life works out. Here I go messing with a swoop gang for all those years. Gotten into a few "accidents." Never much more than a scrape or a broken arm or something. Get a transport with all the nice "safety" features that transports come with, someone throws a grenade right in front of my ship and I end up with a wooden foot. At least its a nice cherry. Not like that jacking mahogany that prissy private school was all laden with.

Well, legit I tried. No money it it. Heck, go illegit and I got the Gathering Storm paid for and this Eye of the storm has much more metal. I even got me a new pimped out swoop. Sweet.

This Rebellion thing seems well funded and maybe mom would be happy I'm doing something against "the establishment." I wonder what happenned to her.

Probably will never know.

hmm. maybe I should just become a pirate? I've got a wooden foot already like I saw on those old Holos when I was a kid.

A'Harrr I be Admiral Rayne Gray.

hmm maybe this will sound better:

aaa'HAAAR Admiral Cherrywood I be.

<knock><knock>

Drax? what is jack is<click>

[Jedi Skyler]

Nice posts, fellas. Jacking creative, too!

[KassyGQ]

So we were at Pyros and somehow Zeek got a hold of this computer/hyperdrive ball that can compute practically anything. So Zeek, Edj and I decide to go shopping for other kinds of metals used on this thing when I get this communication from Drax. Somehow the ship had some musak piping through it and they didn't know who did it or how it happened, 'cause no one on the ship did it.
You know what Drax said to me?
"Zod, as soon as you can, we're having an issue with the comm system on the ship, and we need you."
Hehe! Needed!
But I tried to not show my excitement. 'Cause I'm just cool like that.
So when we get back to the ship, I find out that this musical attack on us came from a group called the Correllean East Side Slicers. I guess we blew up their main computer base last week. The only thing is, how did they know it was us?
Anyway, I guess Karol stopped by, but that was shortly before we went to Suzuki where we met up with Blue Lightening and we got an escort mission to take some freighter to Hoth.
But I got to talk to Rika. I think I might be on this ship with these people for a while. Maybe I'd better get to know them a little more. I mean, of course I'd start with Rika. She's just super cool.
She's from Kashyyk, and she told me that the wookies there don't live on the surface, but in the trees 'cause they're super huge and they've got whole cities in the trees. She left, though, 'cause the planet came under Imperial rule and enslaved her people, so it's a pretty rough place right now. So she moved out to Baleus and worked at a docking bay with some guy named Mike, but then they got laid off. So they went to the cantina, 'cause adults tend to drink whenever they're upset, and they met up with Rayne. So I guess that's how she got hooked up with the Gathering Storm. Mike is on another ship now, too.
I want to go to Kashyyk someday. I think I will. Maybe someday we'll really be able to help the rebels DESTROY the Empire. That would be cool. Then the wookies will be free and I can see where Rika lived. Maybe I could stay there for a while.
The wookies are sooooo cool. They're like ultimate warriors. And Rika is humungous, and I guess she's big for a wookie, so I think I'll be safe with her. I think I'd like to be a warrior someday. A warrior with amazing communications abilities.
I've always lived on Baleus, and I've been in space for five months and seen more worlds than I ever thought I'd see. I wonder what else is out there.
So anyway, I asked Zeek for some rope while he was drooling over his hyperdrive computer ball--someone called it an 8 ball. I'm not sure what that means, but I think I'll just call it that because it's alot easier to say. So I got this rope and I hooked up a hammock from the ceiling in my room. If I'm going to live in the trees way high up, I have to get used to being suspended. Zeek made some sort of modification to it so that I won't fall out, which was nice. In a sort of creepy way. I don't know sometimes if he wants to club me or be friends.
But then we popped out of hyperdrive and these tie-fighters started shooting at us. The guns were all taken up, so I ran to the tractor beam. I GOT ONE! It was sooooo cool. But there weren't any other ships for me to throw it into, so I just shook the thing alot. I mean, if the guy inside is puking, it's better than if he's firing at us.
The others totally blew up the other tie-fighters. Then we took off and we dropped out of hyperspace at Hoth. I'm kinda glad we didn't get out on that planet. Baleus was kinda warm and Hoth didn't seem like it was friendly to species that need above freezing temperatures to survive.
So then we went back to the Azure Expanse and met up with the Blue Lightening again. Now we've got a new plan. We're gonna scout for a place for another base for them. They gave us 3 months worth of food and 5 torpedoes.
I think I'm going to check up on Rika. I think she was talking about making something called Jello shots with wookie juice and nerf hooves, or something. She makes some pretty cool stuff. I bet that she could really make a name for herself on Kashyyk if it wasn't under the Empire. She could open her own bar. Maybe I could help her out and do stuff in the kitchen when I'm not cruising in space.
I'd like to think of myself as a fine-artist of the dining room table. Mom hated it so much. My food would get cold, but it would end up looking really cool. I did catch her once, smiling at one of my monster creations. I managed to shape my side dish of stuffing into a bantha. Dad said it was really good. I used a picture of his to do it.
My dad used to work transporting fuel around the galaxy and he even once got to go to Tatooine, which is where he got the picture from.
But he made his last trip getting fuel when he met my mom on Baleus. Mom tells this story all the time. I mean, she used to. It used to make me sick and irritated, because she just wouldn't stop talking about that story. "Oh, Petran could have spent his old age in the stars going to any world at all, but in his vows he said I was his whole world and worth the trade!" Make me gag.
I...
I need to see what Rika's doing. Maybe she can put me through some more gunning simulations.
_________________
More wookie juice, please!

[Edj]

The ships comms are running so slow, and I'm so very lacking in the necessary expertise to expedite the flow of digitum across the thing... well, I hope I get this out before the screen blanks and I have to start again. Again.

Events are slipping past swiftly these days - perhaps a sign of age, perhaps a sign my recent lack of slumber is finally catching up with me. Perhaps it's the decay wrought by too much alchohol. It hardly matters.

I collect only scattered images of late - little bursts of fuzzy experiences, neatly perforated by small, red holes. Those fragments I can assemble tend to confuse more often than not, but at least it's still enough material to call my existence a life.

In the most recent assembly of my ransom note reality, I have taped together a run across the stars, a very cold world far distant, an extraordinary montage of ion cannon blasts, and utter, absurd insanity.

In the interests of entertaining you all however, on your journey across the tarpit of space - that endless cascade of star-scattered privation - I have drawn a stick-figure story from the fractured pictures in my head.

In the interests of maintaining anonymity, persons and places may have been altered, or possibly completely fabricated, to, well frankly, protect my own precious backside from "those who watch"; who in turn I suspect are likely "those who hold beverages and go 'whirrr'".

Grandfather called today. He asked if we wouldn't mind stopping by earlier this morning to assist him with a matter concerning Grandma - for whom we all care deeply. When we arrived, Grandpa explained that Grams had an appointment with the butcher, but couldn't make the journey through the back alleys alone, and mentioned that if we could spare the time to take her, he would be exceptionally grateful.

Now, we're all fine people here - not a hooligan in the group, and so we agreed to escort the aging lady across town.

The journey was pleasant at first. Childhood memories, a bright morning sky, sun, puppies prancing about. It wasn't until we rounded the corner of Imperial and Empire that things became less... good.

Four men in bow-ties, fighters to the one, rounded on us with bats, knives, and scowls of disdain. They swung ferociously, but we managed to spin Grammy from harm. Liitle Timmy, the youngest of us, caught sight of one circling behind us, and he took it in his head to grapple the brute - giving him quite the shakedown. The rest of us did our level best to dish out more than we took while Danny Copperwood circled our precious elder, successfully keeping the brigands distracted. In the end, the men fell, writhing in agony and shame.

Alright, in the end we caught sight of much larger gang of toughs running at us, so we scooped up Grams and ran away quite swiftly, but she made it to the butcher damnit. Cold place that. Didn't stay long.

On the way back, with dusk settling, we started seeing signs the goons at I&E weren't the only folks interested in our group. It appears a terrifying squad of prepubescent datheads had figured out that they could inspire annoyance by painting such witty repartee as "eside slic3rz iz phat, yo" and "y00z wuz 0wnd" , whatever that might mean.

I supposed at some point we'll need to deal with that, but for now, I'm just hoping we make it back to Grandpa's before dinner.

[Edj]

Sentience, I have heard, affords those with insight and creativity the power to shape the universe.

Through careful reflection of past experience and the application of such reflection towards solving related endeavors, we find we can advance ourselves to new heights.

Then again, often we just stumble onto some really keen tech we previously overlooked and sort of, well, absorb it.

I'm not much of a mechanic, as anyone who has watched me attempt to manipulate anything more complex than a com can attest to. I'm likewise not much of a technician. Ask me how a shield generator generates, or a hyperdrive drives and you'll likely send me into apoplectic shock.

Still, I live with these things, and in doing so, I have attained a certain degree of apathy towards their existence. I push this button, this thing happens. Cause and effect, and that's where my understanding ends. Who needs more?

Still, there are times, as was the case very recently when even matters to which I normally just shrug and accept, blow my feeble mind.

For example, I understand that if a light shines red, there is a bulb of some sort, very likely of a red color, somewhere in the mix, and that there is a flow of electricity to power it. Power goes round and the bulb goes on.

I also understand there are a variety of mechanisms with which we can generate electricity. I don't know what they are precisely, or how they work, but I know there's more than one, and that they often seem to require a large spinning or pounding device behind a set of doors that says "Danger" followed by a pictogram of a Twi'lek with its headtails melting - though that might just be our ship.

In any case the principle is fairly basic: You gas up the engine which then makes power that flows over thousands of wires to light up hundreds of little bulbs and the fine autochef in the lounge.

Sometimes you can swap out the engine for a battery, but the idea stays the same: generator then wires then twinkly bits.

Similarly, I understand the general idea of gravity. Something packs on a few pounds, and that creates a force that pulls other things towards it, more or less. Again, a simple principle - plump and stick.

As an aside, I don't care about theoretical diversions that attempt to explain these phenomenon in more accurate detail. The Verpine tried to explain gravitational theory to me once and when I came to I had lost almost three hours. No memory of the time - nothing but a fleeting recollection that near the end it came down to a big shrug anyways. Three hours. Poof!

To continue however - it appears you can take these two ideas: gravity and electricity - smash them together with some fancy math, pull at the edges, fold some of the corners, and come up with a very disturbing hybrid in which gravity makes lights twinkle. Gravitricity you might say.

Why do I think this is possible some might ask? Its lunacy after all, right? Gravitricity indeed. I'll tell you I have it on the very best authority however. The Verpine told me the illegible text of the dead humanimals on the electro-magnetic-cyborg-insect infested, blown-up space station explains the whole shebang.

How could anyone argue with something like that?

It comes down to this: you push the red button/light and it turns yellow. You push the yellow button/light and it makes the blue and orange buttons and the hall lights come on. Its as easy as that.

Nobody knows how to reverse the sequence of course. Once the lights are on they seem to stay that way unless we pull at the pipes behind the walls (I think they're similar to the wires our equipment uses).

Of course there's detailed prattle between the Ver and Drax about atoms and mass and attraction and neutrinos and tying it all up with some strings or some such, but that's all beyond me, and quite frankly gives me a tremendous headache.

For all that, it does appear to be quite a step forward however - another tool for us to use, and who knows what problems we'll overcome with this new option now available?

Other than discussing the possible reproductive nature of Vercoon sized steel-carapaced, biologically electro-magnetic, hopefully now extinct cockroaches, establishing a fancy new gravilectric home for Grandpa and his poker buddies, and discovering that I, through careful study, can now put away a tremendous quantity of Autochef Caraway Gin, nothing much has happened.

[K_Feldspar]

A long time ago, no even before then, in a remote corner of this particular galaxy a furry dog-faced humanoid had a thought. That thought led to several others, and with help from several number crunching machines that thought blossomed. The universe’s greatest secret was unlocked, and for years an entire race found they could manipulate space and time expending only enough energy as would light up a glow rod.

Now this discovery has applications of course. A lancing beam of energy meant to cause death and destruction could be constructed as easily as a glitter flower—or entire star systems for that matter. Travel became meaningless. Any one point was just as close to you as any other. It’s clear though that there’s no place like home, and they were, however, much more interested in star systems and glitter flowers.

Around every one of their favorite stars they built themselves a grand cathedral in space—a shining beacon, if you will. In all, they built six of these massive palaces of commerce, revelry, and tiny botanical delights.

Their grasp of physics and technology was unsurpassed, but there experience in interstellar sociology was zero. So it came to pass one day that the dog-faced man met the feathered-man. At first, everything was lovely. Trade burgeoned, friendships were made, and knowledge was exchanged.

Now most species develop a parable, short story, or something that teaches not to kill the crocodilian that lays the golden egg, or bite that hand that feeds you. You see, though, the feathered-men had no such parables. So one day their leaders, of one mind, decided that the dog-faced men should be enslaved. Now, no one likes to be enslaved, not even dog-faced men. So they fought back.

Awesome victories were won and lost—space battles the likes of which have not been seen since. The effects of these can still be witnessed to this day throughout the galaxy. Although to everyone now it’s a mystery why so many stars went nova or worse within a span of 11 standard years inside The Azure Expanse. It sure has created a beautiful site though.

Eventually wars stop. Sometimes they stop with a treaty, an accord, even sometimes an overwhelming victory. This war stopped, but with a more dramatic ending. They fought to the last. Every last one of them died. It seemed as though the universe decided that no one should know its secrets if they would be used only to destroy the universe. Perhaps it could be inferred from this that the universe too has a will and an ethic. It might be frightening to learn that the universe has an ethic.

Only one star escaped complete madness and destruction. Though three planets there were destroyed. Each a brilliant orb in space with millions of creatures on each. Each destroyed by the cathedral that watched over them. The cathedral is left—twisted, infested, dark, dank, quiet and forgotten. Recently, however, it became louder, and brighter. It’s still twisted, and somewhat infested though. The infestation has changed just recently. It remains a monumental monolith of death and lost hope.
_________________
"I don't believe it!"

"That is why you fail."

[entropy]

Poor Morris, sitting there in a coma, and most of his crew dead. I can't help but feel we're somewhat responsible for this. I mean, we knew about the ISB agent already. She had gotten onboard our ship once before and gave us a beating before she escaped. It stands to reason that she would come back, either for the coffee table, or to figure out just who the heck we were. We shouldn't have let him use it for cargo runs.

They never saw it coming, what with her distortion field suit. She might as well have been invisible. Heck, if not for Zeek's quick thinking and that DEMP cannon on his powersuit, we'd probably be in the same position. I'm sure the Empire recruits all kinds of people, but she certainly didn't act like an agent. She bounced her knife off my coat twice in the fight, and didn't switch to a more effective weapon. It's almost as if she was trying to prove to herself that her techniques were good enough, rather than adapt to the situation. And that crazy glowrod that Karol says is a lightsaber. I nearly took my hand off turning it on. What was she doing with that, and why didn't she use it?

Now it doesn't surprise me that the Empire is hiring sociopaths as killers, I hold a pretty dim view of them to begin with. But I think this is a sign they're overextending themselves. Karol said you need to be a jedi to use a lightsaber. That makes Marla a jedi. This "Krad" character who is harassing Edj is apparently a dead jedi as well. Karol himself is a jedi, and seems to be training Edj to be one as well.

That's four jedis in as many months, who are these people, and why haven't I ever heard of them? I swear I've watched every alien horror holovid there is. These things certainly should be in the horror vids, appearing out of nowhere, swords that cut through anything, haunting people with apparitions even after they die.

If they've been around for thousands of years, someone must be supressing the movies about them. I mean, come on.. "The Day the Curbs Rose" was a hit on Bothwai for months, and that's basically a vid about the streets sinking a centimeter and Bothans tripping over them and splitting their heads open. Surely these jedi are a scarier subject. I'm going to have to talk to Zurra, she was always into the underground vids, she ought to know something.

At least these events weren't a total loss, though. The info on Marla's datapad gave us some new insights into that Death Star the rebels blew up by Yavin. Also that there's some precious cargo floating around out there. Perhaps it's worth a trip to investigate. And the crew has really come around regarding Starbuck, no one complained at all when I suggested turning him on to analyze the encrypted datapads. Let's just hope he's on our side.

[entropy]

What was it, a year ago, Edj? Running out the back of the cantina after the green droid gang shot up the place. Hopping into their landspeeder and flying off with the wookie. If someone would have told you that day where we'd be in a year, what would you have said to them?

You've really come around with regard to Starbuck, You haven't suggested destroying him in weeks, and you're even suggesting he can help us now. You and Rika seem to be getting along better as well. And you look like you've been sleeping again. Maybe this whole meditation thing Karol's got you doing is helping after all.

Don't get discouraged by the whole Kr.. err.. recent incident. It could have been triggered by any of those things that happened yesterday. Going back to The Gathering Storm, the red emergency lighting, that vinegary smell we never could quite get out of the cargo bay, even seeing Marla again could have touched it off. Just hang in there, and keep working with Karol. I'm sure you'll get through this.

But I've got to say, that's the fastest I've ever seen you move when you almost shot yourself yesterday...

-Drax

[Edj]

Karol is training me to be a Jedi?!

I thought I was helping him with his drinking problem?

It makes some small sense now that you mention it however - the seemingly absurd "controlled detoxification" meditation that surprisingly works quite well, and the incessant babbling about staying calm and using force to solve my problems (something I have generally been opposed to, erm... yes.)

The calm application of force to solve problems. Isn't that generally considered a hallmark of sociopathy?

Are you sure he isn't maybe training Rika instead? I mean, there's a creature that almost genetically understands using force to solve problems - look at the way she lumb... erm, maladriotly approached the recently deceased recondite valkyrie and bear-hugged the vixen into temporary submission.

I simply don't believe I'm posessed of the upper arm strength necessary to the adoption of that kind of philosophy, and I wouldn't suspect Karol to be a champion strongman either. He seems rather spindly. And quite, well... aged. Perhaps that explains the origin of those laser swords though? Compensation for less-than-Wookie muscle?

As for Kra... Kr... (shudder) the red man, lets you and I simply make a kind arrangement not to discuss the matter. I highly suspect you are very possibly lacking the faculties necessary to grasp the nature of that being - those faculties being most namely raving, illogical fear, abject paranoia, and a solid belief that while most things are likely improbable, everything is certainly possible. You are an established, well-adjusted, grounded young human, and you admirably have neither the practical time nor the cerebral latitude to devote even a corner of your life to something that in most respects resembles some creepy bugger from a childhood tale.

That said, if you could teach some of the attributes that keep you so well adjusted, I'd be deeply indebted. I could, perhaps, maybe relax some of the starch-rationing to really make that trenchcoat snap next time it goes through the wash? How does that sound? Further, I noticed in the brief burst of firelight while we were being blown back down the adjoining hall after that spectacular grenadier work of yours that one of your socks has a small tear just below the elastic. That could easily be stitched. Good as new. What do you say?

Starbuck worries me still, have no doubt - it is an ISB mole after all. I mean, it's stamped right on his sinister black carapace - "ISB Mole Mark IXV". And while I've never impuned the usefulness of our marvelous digital tea-tray, I have a strong preference that it offer what service it can from a slightly less proximal location. Say a small, possibly still volcanic chunk of rock recently formed in a galaxy far, far away?

Have the procyonid dathead punch us in another one of those delightfully abbreviated hyperjumps to such a world, we'll drop off Starbuck with a toast and a smile and ion-pop our way back to ye olde lande of plastocene troopers and malevolent beaurocracy. We can swing by every once in awhile with a couple questions and a new battery. It'll be keen.

Yes?

[entropy]

[K_Feldspar]

Captain Stygian stands behind a seated bridge officer who is fumbling furiously over some controls. Finally, the officer turns. “No sir, we’re still not receiving any telemetry from that sensor at all.” Stygian turns quickly and stalks off the bridge towards his office.

Another bridge officer walks over to the first. “I’ve never seen the Captain that angry before. That agent must have been really important. Who was it?”

“It was Marla.”

“Oh no.”

Stygian is upset, quite upset. In fact he can’t quite remember when he was this upset last. One of his agents has failed to complete an assignment, and that always upset him.

“It was a simple assignment…” he mumbles to himself as he strides into his office.

The agent’s transponder stopped working so now he can’t even track her down. That frustrates him all the more, because he must start the work all over.

“Why did she always have to make things so complicated?”

His commanding officer is expecting a progress report within the next two days, and he has only this disaster to report. That makes Stygian worried for his job and his safety.

“The Admiral will be very terse with me.” Stygian thinks to himself as he walks to his office window.

…but most of all, Stygian is afraid Marla is dead. He misses her.

“I should have…” Stygian’s voice trails off. His face turns red as he slams his fist into the window. A thud and a series of quick sickening cracks reverberate through the office. He winces slightly, and his eyes water for second.

“I will kill them myself.”

Then he walks out toward the medical bay.
_________________
"I don't believe it!"

"That is why you fail."

[Edj]

You may have watched a hundred creature-ridden holovids - but how many have you believed in?

I don't think slapping a double coat of eggshell nihilism on the demon in my skull will prove any more effective at removing it than brushing a topcoat of Trooper White Semi-Gloss on Starbuck has, in fact, actually removed the ISB earmark to which I previously referred.

Run your fingers lightly over its surface and the presence of the tyrannical stamp becomes clearly evident despite the flattering alabaster veneer.

This is, I suspect, because unlike the monstrous antagonsists of Holowood, but very much like the concealed score on Starbuck, the beast in my brain is at least in substantial part not exceptionally unreal.

It may cloak itself in bits of my imagination, using my personal fears to provide itself a more effective presentation, but I assure you, it is, at base, far more valid than horn putty and poor wire work.

That said, the idea you present does have some merit. A deeper exploration of the ghoul's methods may be in order, and perhaps that begins with the process of removing some of the contrivances it has pulled from the toolbox of my personal naivety...

Yes... I think perhaps I'll take you up on some of those holovids after all... cripple the bugger with knowledge as it were.

So, this Euclid guy you've mentioned before, how did his stuff work again?