With those simple words, myriad Jedi and Padawans had fallen under the trigger of a blaster. They were all but purged from the galaxy. Survivors, desperate to live on hid, in exile and scattered to distant, remote planets. The Galactic Senate had crumbled, giving way to the Empire.
But balance must return to the Force, and secretly, Jedi are roaming the galaxy to find Padawans, a new generation to train in the ways of the light side of the Force. A rebellion is forming and those once undiscovered in the Wild Space and the Unexplored Sector are now making their voices heard.
ScatterStar is a Star Wars crossover forum based RPG set in the 26th century and takes place between Episode III and Episode IV. Ever wanted a Vulcan Jedi? A Klingon with a BFG 9000? A Roswell Grey Sith? A Yautja bounty-hunter who collects the lightsabers of his kills? A Wookie ensign in Star Fleet? In ScatterStar, all this and more can be possible.
Because the Universe is a very, very big place...
Most users ever online was 14 on Sat Mar 05, 2016 8:55 pm
by Dvorak-Kevik-Vermin Sat Mar 25, 2017 4:27 pm
» Episode 1 Act 3 - The First Flight of the Paisley Squadron! (Riti, The Paisley Squadron)
by Dvorak-Kevik-Vermin Fri Mar 24, 2017 1:41 am
» Introduce yourself!
by Dvorak-Kevik-Vermin Wed Mar 22, 2017 8:57 pm
» Canon characters from other universes?
by Dvorak-Kevik-Vermin Tue Mar 21, 2017 2:35 pm
» Scattered Light - A Scatterstar story (Naboo)
by Dvorak-Kevik-Vermin Mon Mar 06, 2017 1:15 pm
Kevik walked the wide halls of the cantina, blending in as well as a Dug could. Occasionally tourists would stop him and ask if he was related to Sebulba. Sometimes he lied and said yes because it was a good way to get free drinks or the attention of a lady or two.
Today he wasn't in the mood to use words but rather loaded dice.
But first he needed a ship.
There were several games of Pazaak going on game tables and a few dice games as well. Kevik went into another wing of the cantina and surveyed the crowd. Surely someone would lend him an escape hatch.
Prawns, known for nothing but dirty slaves, were often beat up when walking into a cantina, as if they expected to get served. Strangely enough, here, this one seemed to be served, waited, and honoured. What had he done to deny his physic? What had he done to receive such worship and gawking, only to bluff it off like nothing nothing happened ~It almost seemed like he didn't want to be seen at all, waving his hand for regulars to leave him alone. Also, he kept his red-beady eyes to the corners of the room, scanning to see if something might be lurking there. Other than that, he seemed like a chilled prawn. [excuse the pun]
The past was known to come back and haunt us, and it seemed that Daryl, The King, knew that, noticing the red painted hunter's symbol on an unwanted visitor's leather jacket. Species, Aleena, and by the looks of it not very experienced. What kind of idiot hunter gave away his position with such a lame symbol? Regardless, Daryl was now aware that he'd been scoped out. The Hutts were on to his location, and he'd have to leave. Slowly, trying to be inconspicuous, the prawn made his way to the bathroom; it wasn't long before the Aleena hunter followed. To any experienced observer of scoundrels, what was going on would be plain as day, a little schism in the lavatories.
For some reason, not a sound could be heard from the loo. However, it wasn't long before The King showed his face again, coming out with a new-sounding jingle of credits in his pocket, and whipping his hand like the situation was cake. It took no time at all until the Prawn was sat back at his primary seat, where an lager-like beverage waited, accompanied by a speciality that was reserved for his visits, canned tuna. "Thanks!" He clicked in gratitude at the tender.
Kevik kept his eyes open and he noticed the Prawn, which was a species he barely knew existed and had never seen before with his own two eyes. He watched as the Prawn followed the smaller creature into the bathroom. It occurred to Kevik that one of three things were taking place in there: Business, pleasure or coincidence.
An ignorant Xexto walked passed the Dug, heading for the bathroom. Kevik tapped him on the shoulder. "I don't think you want to go in there." Kevik advised, shaking his head and smirking, his flat teeth exposed. The Xexto's round head tilted on it's long fragile neck then gave a wary nod. Maybe he understood, maybe he didn't.
By now, the Prawn exited the washroom alone. Kevik watched the Prawn as he returned to his seat and accepted graciously the minced fish. He was not able to enjoy it for long though before a Wookie batted his shelled shoulder with it's meaty paw.
"Hey!" The wookie roared. "That was my quarry!"
Kevik watched with interest.
Daryl prodded the canned fish with one of the tentacles attached to his mouth, thus contaminating the food. "Yours, I'm sorry." Thinking that quarry meant food. He scuttled his mouth piece, trying to form words the best he could. Instantly, the hairy creature tried to place his hand on the less hairy one. Before he could even lay a fat finger on him, the Prawn twisted its hand sounding a loud crack, shattering the bone inside. ^ad obviously had enough today; however, this left the others to imagine the condition of the Aleena crushed in the bloody dookied toilet.
"Leave. Eating!" Daryl clicked, slurping the can's substance all up with one gulp. Unfortunately for the Wookiee, its tempered racial trait played to a disadvantage. The coarse-haired creature tried to hammer fist the Prawn; however, being a fast species, Daryl punctured the tuna can past its flesh and into its fragile endoskeleton. Daryl was happy to know he had a firm outer shell, emotionally and externally. The crowd around exchanged credits and such, as they had placed bets and whatnot.
Time to go, he thought, commencing his strut for the door and to his state of the art ship; surprisingly, earned without dirty money.
Kevik watched the quick altercation. He looked at the wookiee who was now lying on the ground, and he watched the prawn begin to leave. Most of the other patrons had returned to...whatever they were doing before the quick showdown. Kevik held his breath, doubting the wisdom of his next actions. But he decided to take a chance.
The galloped after the prawn, skipping over the fallen wookiee. He skid to a stop, looking back at the wookiee. He'd make a good throw rug, maybe in front of a nice fireplace...
Once again the dug ran off, following the prawn. "Hey! Hey? Hey!"
Daryl walked through the steel western style doors, forgetting what the outside of this rural planet looked like. A forestry of fungus covered the planet, and acted as a canopy for the Prawn's ship. The intense growth had already began to attach itself to the vehicle, good thing Daryl didn't spend the night. He'd been grown in [Like Snowed In]. Fortunately, it kept the vessel hidden from the eyes of his hunters. Xagobah should have acted as a reliable hideout for the shrimp, but it seemed to be infested with criminals, and people he didn't want to affiliate with.
~Speak of the Devil.
Then, he heard someone calling for him. Swiftly, he turned, drawing his specialized homeworld blaster, which he refers to as the Hatchling. "What want Dug?" He clicked, speaking with bad grammar, as the ship's loading bay descended.
Kevik hated this planet. It felt like everything wanted to either eat him or grow on and in him. He could picture tiny fibrous worms wriggling under his nails every time he stepped on the mossy ground, into his gums every time he inhaled...
He reacted quickly as the strange blaster was trained on him. He raised his strong hands and stood on his comparatively small and weaker feet. Standing in a 'stick-em-up' position, he grinned. "Ah, sorry. Maybe I was too quiet and snuck up on you." Though in truth he had no idea how that could have been the case. "But I just wanted to know, do you have a ship onto which I could maybe acquire passage?"
Kevik made a point not to look at the obviously welcoming ship behind the Prawn, dressed in moss and fungi, he remained focused on Daryl. "My last ship was confiscated by the Empire for scrap to make armour for their unending lines of troopers. I guess, anyway. I ended up dropped here in this compost heap on a whim because of it."
Maybe it was the truth, it was certainly plausible enough, and Kevik's eyes seemed to hold a clear conscience.
"I don't believe you. But, things lie when need help. I know that. But, You not here'ta kill me, I can tell that." He attempted to sound clear, it wasn't easy with his mouth.
"My ship?" The prawn questioned, being somewhat skeptical of who was going to join him. However, this doug spoke much better common-tongue than he did. Perhaps he could provide good bargaining for needed appliances along the way. With that thought, ^ave a big sigh before having to speak his best, and said~"Fine. But you stay with me until I say otherwise. Tell you why on ship. Things watch here!" He explained. His new job was classified, and couldn't be overheard by some bounty hunter, or worse, an imperialist.
The Doug hadn't made it on because of his smart tongue. He'd hitched a ride because Daryl was a sucker for kindness, and had learned that kindness payed back to those who gave it freely. The prawn started up the ramp to his ship, putting his blaster away and turning his head back at the Doug. "You better not try'ta kill me me! You won't succeed!" He grumbled.
"Things watch everywhere." Kevik pointed out, slowly moving his arms down then using them to hastily walk onto the ship. He wasn't going to argue the point.
He turned to face the prawn as he was walking up the ramp. "Don't worry, I don't want to kill you," he assured him. "If I failed, I wouldn't want to end up on your hit list." Another grin. He was a remarkably amicable individual, especially for a Dug.
Daryl went and sat in a blackish-green gel pilot seat, like store bought cricket food, that warps around the body for comfort. Then, he put his hands out together in front his him, and spread them wide to show a holographic touch scream that whirled wildly. It was all written in his natural language, but the actual flying controls were simple. Swing left, Swing right, Swing Down, etc. It all seemed quite easy to use. Prawns were known for their efficiency, along with there aggressiveness.
"Do you want to know who am I?" He asked, watching to see how the Dug faired inside the foreign environment. After all, this technology was probably unlike anything he'd ever seen.
Kevik looked around, his brown eyes open wide. He held his feet close to his chest, making sure not to touch anything. As he moved his head around, the beads on his wattles rattled a little. His ear fins fanned out in interest, extending, retracting, as he explored the exotic ship.
"I know you're a prawn." Kevik answered, finally looking at Daryl where he sat. "I think anyway. Why, should I know?"
"Am I?" He asked pretending to pull off a mask, grappling onto the shell of his neck. "Nah, am just shitting you!" The prawn began to click violently, laughing so hard he almost fell over. He wasn't very good at jokes, but he tried.
"Now, Serious!" He said, trying to die down his laughter with all his might.
"I fit into strange niche. I'm a good scoundrel." The words seemed to contrast no matter how many ways you places them together. Scoundrel-good, good-scoundrel, scgoodoundrel, it just didn't work. "Honest, 'am a smuggler for the remaining republic. Wanteds take 'board to past Empire space. Recruits, doctors... Jedi."
He blinked. "There are still Jedi running around the galaxy?" Kevik asked in surprise. He waddled closer to the prawn's weird jelly chair and looked for a place to sit. He looked up and saw thick, strong, dead cables. He reached up with his hand, balancing on the other, then he pulled himself into the cables, sitting like he was in a swing. "How's the pay? I mean, that's why you do it, right?"
"They pay? No better than good bounty, but more consistent!" He clicked, getting somewhat irritated that the Dug was climbing about in the wrong places. Then, he went silent, and prepared for take off. "Going to uncharted places. Hope you've got nowherebe?" He asked, but didn't expect a reply.
"Going 'cause, I'm prove you there are jedi!" He said, as the ship started to move; it was a mimic to the movement of Daryl's hands.
"Consistency is good. I like consistency." Kevik nodded. A steady flow of income was always desirable. "And I do have a place to be, and it's away from this festering planet. Any place but here." He gestured with his hand,crossing his feet at the ankles and leaning back on the cables as if they were a hammock. "So go, my good man. Show me these mythological jed-eye you speak of."
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Join date : 2013-11-19