From Ashes - Star Wars RP (Open!)

The captain fell to his knees, gasping for breath. A pair of soldiers slowly approached him as he stood back up, blasters trained on Makra's fallen form.

"S-secure--" he coughed, massaging his abused throat. "... Secure her. I... I think there are a few Inquisitors left alive. They might get where the new Jedi temple is located out of her."

The hatred visible on her face continued to haunt him, however. The Padawan was nothing like that.

The three approached her, slowly. "How did you know that was going to work?" one asked, evidently Rookie.

"I didn't," Bal grumbled, hating having to speak through his deformed throat. "She looks like she's out cold. Who has stun cuffs on --"

A war horn tore through the air audible even throughout the base, a hauntingly familiar staccato that stirred up old grudges and loss in Bal. "Ewoks. You've got to be kidding me."

"What?" Rookie interjected. "What are--"

"You, with me," Bal cut him off, pressing a finger into Rookie's chestplate. "094, 282, secure the prisoner for extraction. 682, 342 disable the spacecraft in here. Everyone else, with me." With that said, he stormed down the hangar, tuning up his blaster for maximum power. It didn't take that much power to fry the little fleabags, but it would feel good. "I am sick and tired of Endor."

With that said, the hangar soon became silent, besides for the aforementioned Stormtroopers. Two of them stood over Makra.

"Did you bring your stuncuffs?" one asked the other.

"No. I lost them two weeks ago," he replied.

"You idiot. We need to cuff both her arms and ankles for max-security," the other groaned.

"What about covering her eyes? Or her mouth? So she doesn't do the space magic thing again."

"That's not how the Force works!"

( Hmm, completely up to you. I'm horrible with choices lol )

Makra was definitely out of it for a little while. She began stirring while the troopers were getting to work trying to decide how to detain her. She made her presence known by groaning, most of her body slowly recovering from numbness brought on by the explosion. She looked from one trooper to the other, grumbling under her breath. 

"Do you ever take those stupid things off?" She asked. "Or is it similar to the Mandalorian code, where taking it off means death. Or, something like that." She was surprisingly casual despite the situation.

( Hmm maybe plug it into a spinner thing online to decide, that's what I usually end up doing )

Despite her state, Makra quickly swiped the firing trooper's legs out from under him. The shot missed her entirely. She was about to slam a fist into the trooper who remained standing but decided against it. A broken fist wouldn't be very pleasant. Instead, she grabbed either side of his head and launched him to the ground, looking around the hangar for her fallen lightsaber. Thankfully they'd been interrupted by the Ewoks, leaving it forgotten on the ground.

She used the force to bring the weapon to her hand and ignited it, brandishing it alarmingly close to the troopers. "Clearance codes to get off this planet. I know you've got them." She narrowed her eyes. "And unless you wanna find out what a lightsaber feels like as it pierces your heart, you'll give them to me."

It rolled Kel Dor

Chol Brehn // 33 // Kel Dor // Male // New Republic // Jedi Knight of the New Jedi Order // Force Sensitive? Yes

Physical Description -
Chol possesses an imposing, totally alien appearance, standing at 5'10", which peach-tinted skin and a particular combined and malleable antiox mask and goggle set that covers up from his extrasensory tusks, to his mouth, his silver-on-black eyes, up to his eyebrows. His right hand has 3-and-a-half fingers, rather than four, missing half of his index finger. His dark, navy-blue cloak is not as thick or expansive as the Jedi of old, but nevertheless gets the job done. Underneath is is a light-blue piloting jumpsuit

Equipment -
Chol carries precious little besides his indigo-colored lightsaber and basic survival supplies. Chol's lightsaber is a dual-phase design, possessing a single emitter, but adaptable focusing lenses allowing the blade to reach a long length or shorter length. The design is exceedingly simple and functional with barely a hint of ornamentation -- it even is composed of a dull durasteel finish. Chol to utilize Form III (Soresu) in combination with Form IV (Djem So), with Trakata cleverly used in-between.

Brief Personality -
Chol possesses a strong sense of justice, but his experience in the Rebel Alliance and wide... variety of allies gives him credence to consider the gray areas between the black and white, and overall Chol desires a strong, pure connection with the Force. However, any true Jedi contends with the Dark Side his entire life, and Chol is no different: he holds a strong grudge against the Empire and Inquisitorius that tore apart his family and ripped him from his homeworld of Dorin, a lingering darkness in his soul that he cannot yet purge, nor is able to fully accept within his being. Chol also fights against his pride, a fortunately successful fight that too yet lingers.

History -
Chol's early life was empty and, in his eyes, devoid of purpose as quickly lost his parents to the Empire on suspicions of hiding Force sensitives, hidden by relatives that ferried him away from Dorin. To be clear -- he was not clearly Force-sensitive at this point of his life, but his family believed him to be due to the cultural significance of his eyes.

The Kel Dor found himself, eventually, running supplies to nascent Rebellion cells, before eventually joining one himself. He was able to guide his new erstwhile allies with exceptional clarity
, until they joined up with the greater Rebellion himself. Chol's growing abilities of divination helped him to distinguish his starfighter squadron during the penultimate battle of the Galactic Civil War, the Battle of Endor, shortly after which he was identified as a Force-sensitive for the restored Jedi Order.

The Force was like a gateway for Chol Brehn -- it provided clarity, peace, and soothed the growing unease in his rebel guerrilla heart. In the five years since the Battle of Endor, Chol was quickly dead set on the path of the light side, and eventually left to his own machinations. However, the recently-ascended alien Jedi Knight sense a disturbance in the Force, something crawling from the remains of the Dark Side that so threaten his own new Jedi Order and New Republic, themselves only risen out of the ashes of their previous selves.

(Somewhere in the galaxy Cole suddenly gets a feeling that there is a Jedi somewhere XD)

A Jedi that hates the Inquisitorius  )

One of the original troopers defeated by Makra groggily lifted his head up shortly after she left, pulling himself out of the debris with a groan. He surveyed his destroyed surroundings and numerous fires around him.

"Blast. I shouldn't have forgotten my cuffs."

~~~~~~

Bal was leading a clean-up crew through the outskirts of the base, trying to keep their extraction zone clear.

"Y-you're kidding me!" he heard Rookie cry out incredulously. "These things defeated the Empire?"

Bal saw movement in the corner of his eye, taking aim and firing a shot with his E-11 in the blink of an eye. "Yes."

"But they're teddy bears! They just have sharp sticks! And rocks!"

"Shut up and focus," Bal growled as he let loose another shot, but his revelry was cut short by a cascading explosion in the base. The back-and-forth fighting in the base stopped temporarily.

Bal was felt struck. Destroying the base wasn't necessary, just ensuring that the Rebels were wiped out and there would be no evidence they were there. What were they doing?

The captain lifted a finger up to his helmet. "Report! What just happened?" No response.
"I said report!"

"Puh... prisoner escaped. Explosively," came a groggy voice over the comms.

Bal quickly turned and unloaded a half-dozen blaster bolts into the general direction of the nearest teddy bear, before opening his microphone again. "Signal the Weylight. Jedi loose on the ground, mission critical and at risk. Atlas Protocol is in jeopardy."


Sorry Hawkeyes258, but this could be the perfect time for your character to jump in.)

It had scant been much time since the Star Destroyer Weylight sent an SOS from the ground team. Force-users, Bal thought, where uncanny and dangerous no matter whose side they were on.

Bal lifted his gauntlet up from one of Makra's footprints, as if inspecting its freshness. "Inquisitor," he rumbled neutrally. "The Weylight has the local 50 square kilometers jammed. Local short-range comms are our only options at the moment. Rookie?"

The greenhorn trooper nicknamed Rookie piped up. "There, uh, is no reliable way to track her. The locals are... agitated, and this forest moon is crawling with enough life that scanning for her vitals doesn't work."

"Your Inquisitorious failed to take her down before," Bal growled. "But I didn't. I'd say you might have your work cut out for you."


(To be honest, I am totally ready to have a plotline centered on why these Remnants were so dead set on trying to wipe out the Rebels in this sector and what they were trying to hide. Also, don't worry -- Makra will get her help soon.)

After some time, it became apparent that Makra was not entirely alone among the massive timber spires of Endor's planet-spanning forest. There was some scuffling there, whispering there, and cracked twigs here.

Eventually, the moon's fuzzy natives showed themselves. An ewok practically came out of nowhere in front of Makra. "Ee chu ta!" it called, trying to grab her attention. Evidently, they still remembered their allies from five years ago.

~~~~~

"Of course, Lord Inquisitor," Bal said stiffly, before pointing in a particular direction. "She was last heading that way. Our lander came with some three speeder bikes. With your permission, while we're still purging this outpost of our presence, I will use it as a staging area to launch some mounted patrols to comb the woods and run interference for you."

The little being seemed extraordinarily pleased with itself. "Chu!" it squawked, grabbing her hand with its fuzzy, calloused teddy bear paws. "Chu ta!" With that said, it started to walk away, gesturing at Makra to follow it and seeing if she was.

Wherever it was going, it only appeared to be deeper within the forest, but it would certainly throw off the Imperials for a time.

“Chu ee ta!” the little creature replied enthusiastically in misunderstanding, then whooped loudly. Numerous Ewoks hollered back in return from the forest around them, before it suddenly started pulling her in a seemingly random direction.

It was prophetic, almost — the roaring engines of speeder bikes zoomed by parallel to their original path, before fading out in the distance.

The walk went on, and the evening grew darker. The sounds of the forest grew sinister, with hidden beasts calling out in the darkness.

Eventually, the Ewok led her up a flimsy-looking wooden bridge, that was pulled up with ropes as soon as the stepped onto a wooden platform, or rather a miniature village of them. The little creature led Makra through huddled crowds of fuzzy little bears — the atmosphere seemed quiet, almost mournful. Then, it led her to a suspended fire pit, attended by a larger humanoid figure surrounded by the little creatures.

He turned, revealing an utterly alien Kel Dor face. “Greetings,” his voice reverberated. “The closest Republic outpost is over a dozen miles away — you must be tired. But before you rest, please explain why—“ he gestured at the Ewoks around them. “— our mutual friends are so agitated. I have not been able to get a good reading for a few hours.”

I was at work for most of the day -w-)

Even with one so inhuman, one could easily see him tense up from surprise. The Ewoks around whooped and screeched, crowding away from the two.

The alien pulled his hood down, but otherwise made no movements to attack or defend. Besides the crackling of the fire, the treetops seemed deathly silent, as he seemed to consider her lightsaber, before he held out a hand hurt by some ancient wound long ago in greeting.

“There is no cause for alarm,” his voice reverberated softly. “Especially if you serve the Republic. It is a distinction I formerly shared with you as well.”

His lightsaber was visible from under the folds of his cloak.

“My name is Chol. I do have questions, as assuredly you do as well. Please, put down your weapon — you’re scaring the little ones. Do so, and I will answer whatever you ask to the best of my ability.”

"Good!" Chol said as her weapon shut off, moving back to take a seat by the fire pit.

"Now, I am not 'supposed' to be anywhere," he began, folding his arms together. "I simply am where I feel I must be, but I too need clarity. A celestial body such as Endor is rich in life and, as such, flows freely with the Living Force. Endor does not have a monopoly on life-bearing planets, however -- I could've just as easily went to Kashyyyk, or Onderon, or perhaps remain on Yavin IV or even visit the ancient Jedi Temple on Ilum. But the Force drew me here to Endor."

"Or, perhaps you meant here, specifically. This tribe of Ewoks allowed me to stay as their guest after I arrived -- they saw my lightsaber, and a certain, particular Jedi Knight must have made an impression on them, even though we cannot speak each others' tongues. It helps that I cannot eat their food, I suppose."

"I may, perhaps," Chol returned coolly, not answering either question in particular. "I have not been able to get in contact with my droid since shortly after the tribe gathered to go save your outpost. If it has anything to do with the Star Destroyer hanging in the sky, then we are being jammed." He stood up, giving a subtle gesture at the fuzzy little Ewoks hiding to stay away, an imprint of the Force imparting the feeling.

"Be patient," he scolded Makra softly. "There is something significant going on that is not obvious to the naked eye. Try to remember... when was the last time your outpost signed off to Sector Command?"

(Hawkeyes258 need a bit of help?)