Post by Cyberguy on Dec 12, 2006 23:47:16 GMT -5
The Core worlds had always had a single common aspect. They were now, and had, for millenia, always been controlled by the same government. In this case, with the New Sith Empire controlling Coruscant, Corellia fell too to the New Emporer, who had recieved that title after slaughtering the Keepers of the Peace, the Jedi.
Jedi Knight Holt Syren was never one for politics, it was just too complicated, and far too fragile. But, what he had learned about the Galaxy on Nelvaan was the nature of the Core Worlds, which, up until now, he had never visited. Though, in truth, this was not the fact that caused him to find himself in his current situation. The fact that had brought him here was one he had learned on Kashyyyk.
After the Jedi lost at Yavin IV, and Holt was told to flee to Kashyyyk by master Crane, he began to plan. It was all he had. Kashyyyk was a remote world, but still less remote than Rilia or Harruun Kal, or some of the other worlds Jedi hid on. Kashyyyk still had ties to the rest of the Galaxy, albeit through slavers and other less than noble means. This gave him a power that few other hidden Jedi had. He had a connection to the rest of the galaxy, to politics, to The New Empire. He was young then, but he knew his duty was to stop this empire. And, in hunting, one must know their prey. And so, Holt began to study the Empire through the wookiees and the slavers and the spaceports, being sure to be careful, disguised, and far from Imperials. He had succeeded.
He learned of the Emporer, of his armadas, and of his dark Executors. And Holt intended to do something about it. Now, he was no fool, and he was not going to do anything that could harm the Jedi, such as going after the Sith or their Executors. But the Armada, stationed out of Corellia, was vunerable. And so, the Nelvaan found himself outside of an Imperial Armada data transfer station. And, thank the Force, it had begun to rain.
Data Transfer stations were common on large worlds, used everyday by thousands, sometimes millions, of people. The Empire's were no different. It was used by grunts and low-level personell only. And so, with low-budget equipment came low-level maintenance. And so, there would be accidents. One such common accident, which Holt had the good fortune of knowing about, was the fact that, during rainstorms, lightning often struck the transmission spires, causing shutdowns that could last up to and hour.
Now, this sort of information was common and held no real importance to the Jedi. It was the fact that, when such shutdowns occur, a message concerning the malfunction is transmitted directly, via an emergency signal, to the Imperail Data Archives themselves, who then sent a relayed signal that would reactivate the DTS, that Holt found very important.
Nobody was around. And they shouldn't have been. There was no reason to. Holt stood on top of the average-sized terminal and faced the sky. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and illuminated him. It was perfect timing.
The Nelvaan hopped down to the data reception port and removed from his waist one of the only three items he brought with him, one being his lightsaber. It was a modified Datapad. He ran his palm across it and bowed his head.
[glow=white,2,300]"Raccawr... thank you....."[/glow]
The Jedi then placed the datapad into the reception port and faced the sky again, this time, far more focused. He watched as the lightning played across the sky. He then looked to the spire. Rain hit his face. And then, all of a sudden, it didn't. It was still raining, but the drops around Holt and the terminal were being collected around the tall spire. Holt cosed his eyes and continued to push them together through the Force, the drops creating a thread of water leading from the spire to the sky. Higher and higher this thread rose, until it could no longer be ignored. Lightning struck the column of rain, which carried it down to the spire. A sizzle. A pop. And the terminal died. The signal was sent.
Holt grabbed hold of the datapad and turned facing the already rising sun. He would have to run to make it back to Arili and Dak. He liked running. And so he did. The Jedi had come and left, having accomplished only one thing aside from disabling a fairly unpopular Imperial Terminal. The datapad he now held in his hands now flashed one hundred and thirty-three characters. The exact same number of characters as an Imperial Emergency Code.
(w00t! Yeah, so I bet you're wondering how simple old Holt knew about that, eh? And maybe who Raccawr is? And maybe where he got that Datapad? And maybe why they haven't made a box set for the NT yet? These Burning Questions and more, as I begin to reveal, more and more, through Flashbacks, the exciting adventures of Holt Syren during his twenty-year exile on Kashyyyk! Stay tuned!)
Jedi Knight Holt Syren was never one for politics, it was just too complicated, and far too fragile. But, what he had learned about the Galaxy on Nelvaan was the nature of the Core Worlds, which, up until now, he had never visited. Though, in truth, this was not the fact that caused him to find himself in his current situation. The fact that had brought him here was one he had learned on Kashyyyk.
After the Jedi lost at Yavin IV, and Holt was told to flee to Kashyyyk by master Crane, he began to plan. It was all he had. Kashyyyk was a remote world, but still less remote than Rilia or Harruun Kal, or some of the other worlds Jedi hid on. Kashyyyk still had ties to the rest of the Galaxy, albeit through slavers and other less than noble means. This gave him a power that few other hidden Jedi had. He had a connection to the rest of the galaxy, to politics, to The New Empire. He was young then, but he knew his duty was to stop this empire. And, in hunting, one must know their prey. And so, Holt began to study the Empire through the wookiees and the slavers and the spaceports, being sure to be careful, disguised, and far from Imperials. He had succeeded.
He learned of the Emporer, of his armadas, and of his dark Executors. And Holt intended to do something about it. Now, he was no fool, and he was not going to do anything that could harm the Jedi, such as going after the Sith or their Executors. But the Armada, stationed out of Corellia, was vunerable. And so, the Nelvaan found himself outside of an Imperial Armada data transfer station. And, thank the Force, it had begun to rain.
Data Transfer stations were common on large worlds, used everyday by thousands, sometimes millions, of people. The Empire's were no different. It was used by grunts and low-level personell only. And so, with low-budget equipment came low-level maintenance. And so, there would be accidents. One such common accident, which Holt had the good fortune of knowing about, was the fact that, during rainstorms, lightning often struck the transmission spires, causing shutdowns that could last up to and hour.
Now, this sort of information was common and held no real importance to the Jedi. It was the fact that, when such shutdowns occur, a message concerning the malfunction is transmitted directly, via an emergency signal, to the Imperail Data Archives themselves, who then sent a relayed signal that would reactivate the DTS, that Holt found very important.
Nobody was around. And they shouldn't have been. There was no reason to. Holt stood on top of the average-sized terminal and faced the sky. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and illuminated him. It was perfect timing.
The Nelvaan hopped down to the data reception port and removed from his waist one of the only three items he brought with him, one being his lightsaber. It was a modified Datapad. He ran his palm across it and bowed his head.
[glow=white,2,300]"Raccawr... thank you....."[/glow]
The Jedi then placed the datapad into the reception port and faced the sky again, this time, far more focused. He watched as the lightning played across the sky. He then looked to the spire. Rain hit his face. And then, all of a sudden, it didn't. It was still raining, but the drops around Holt and the terminal were being collected around the tall spire. Holt cosed his eyes and continued to push them together through the Force, the drops creating a thread of water leading from the spire to the sky. Higher and higher this thread rose, until it could no longer be ignored. Lightning struck the column of rain, which carried it down to the spire. A sizzle. A pop. And the terminal died. The signal was sent.
Holt grabbed hold of the datapad and turned facing the already rising sun. He would have to run to make it back to Arili and Dak. He liked running. And so he did. The Jedi had come and left, having accomplished only one thing aside from disabling a fairly unpopular Imperial Terminal. The datapad he now held in his hands now flashed one hundred and thirty-three characters. The exact same number of characters as an Imperial Emergency Code.
(w00t! Yeah, so I bet you're wondering how simple old Holt knew about that, eh? And maybe who Raccawr is? And maybe where he got that Datapad? And maybe why they haven't made a box set for the NT yet? These Burning Questions and more, as I begin to reveal, more and more, through Flashbacks, the exciting adventures of Holt Syren during his twenty-year exile on Kashyyyk! Stay tuned!)