IC: I jumped to the side as another chunk of Nal Hutta smashed into the road before me. My black and silver armor absorbed the shock of a few stray pebbles without incident, but I really didn't feel like testing the material against those Plasma ejecta that were causing the destruction.

The only safe place at the moment was the sewer or, relatively speaking, in one of the refugee ships making a break for it. I would have loved to take my third option, my own ship, but unfortunately it appeared that refugees has beaten me to my modified blastboat and appropriated anything useful by way of launch gear from it. A pile of bodies near it stood honor to my ship's defenses, but overwhelming numbers had taken those down as well as my sub-light engines and repulsors. The former would be difficult to replace, the latter simple enough. Assuming I survived.

More ejecta rained down and I continued to run with no clear-cut destination. I had no intention of standing and fighting, or even fighting in the first place if I could help it. This was a powerful force, and one that the Mandalore was planning on goading along under a pretended alliance. A smile cracked my lips.

Maybe I should be fighting them. The fact that I was an outcast from the society, one who traditionally broke honor codes and the like, sometimes just for what appeared to be the fun of it, my further the Mandalorian cause. Yet again: Assuming I wasn't killed.

A massive crater the size of a small apartment erupted twenty meters in front of me as a coralskipper spiraled, out of control, into the street. The blast sent bodies and parts of bodies flying, eliminating any nearby traffic problems. I quietly thanked both the dead pilot and the one who'd shot him down as I felt I might owe them both something. Maybe a large something.

At the lowest point of the crater, below its relative meniscus, was a minuscule access point to the sewers. Not large enough for a high degree of traffic, and certainly not large enough for half of the species trapped on this world to squeeze through, but at the moment it was a quick, unobstructed entrance to safety. The only issue was that the entirety of the crater still glowed red and white with heat, with the occasional mixture of Vong plasma along its length.

I shrugged and jumped as far as I naturally was capable, aiming for the small hole in the center. My aim was fairly close, and when I was within a meter of the crater's surface I gave a quick, short blast of my jet pack's thrusters to carry me the necessary distance to slide smoothly into the hole.

I landed with a splash in what, according to my helmet's HUD was slightly toxic sewage. The fact that a bit of stench came in through my helmet's filtered air intake indicated how bad the air quality was down here.

I glanced above to where ships were being obliterated as they ran for safety and people were turned to steam in massive bursts of energy. Bad air wasn't as bad as it could have been.

I turned from the scene and ran again, aimlessly down the sewer searching for any survivors I might find.

-----------------------------------

The Visit

“Synthetic organic replacement has come a long way in the last five or so years. Whilst it doesn’t hold the 100% success rate, or the low price, of prosthetic replacement you cannot argue with the product. That metallic skeleton sheathed in synth-flesh might fool the eye, and even the brain, but it does not fool you.”

Bromé Maber grunted in response, still not looking the Doctor in the eye. Yet, he could feel the Doctor’s unblinking gaze burning into the top of his head. But Bromé’s eyes were focussed on the human hand floating in tank on his desk. Illuminated blue, it was an eerie feeling staring at the hand. A hand so life like, and yet it never truly belonged to a living body. To a real person.

“So, what’s the process again?”

“We take cells from your body and use advanced cloning technology to reproduce a copy of the hand you lost. This process takes several days in order to ensure the quality of the new hand, but once ready the hand needs only be re-attached, sorry, attached as if it were severed in an accident. This procedure is done by droid with several physicians standing watch. All in all the process takes just under two weeks for the new hand to be attached. The ‘rehab’ takes a little longer - closer to a month.”

“And what happens if it don’t take?”

“Several years ago this was of high concern – now it is more of a moot point. For varying reasons, a host sometime will not accept the grafted replacement.” He said interlacing the fingers of his two real hands. Even though this was the third time he’d asked the question, the Doctor didn’t even flinch with annoyance.

“It is simply removed and the prosthetic replaces it again. I realise your concern Mr. Maber, but you needn’t worry so much. Grafting technology took a leap forward after research into the Yuuzhan Vong’s techniques - improving operation time, improved probability of success and reduced cost to you. Of course, that’s not to say it’s perfect. Even their biotech didn’t guarantee the success of a graft, and again it was to do with the host’s body, what they called ‘Shamed Ones’. However, our modern technology can predict the likely hood of success, and you rank very high. Our techniques are arguably better than their biotech counter parts now. Success is all but guaranteed.”

He begrudgingly grunted again, eyes never leaving the hand in the tank. The hand that could be his. No longer would the cold metal on his forearm frightening him when he awoke with a foreign object on his body, haunting him, teasing him with realities faults. Ever since the war with those bloody Vong scum, those alien bastards, he has shared his body with a machine. The Army only allowed prosthetic replacements in their health care, thanks to the cheap price and guaranteed success of the parts.

“Thanks Doc. Maybe some other time.” At last his gaze left the tank as he rose and began to leave the room. Would a new hand really fix his shattered mind?

Draped in a heavy coat and less the expensive clothing, Bromé made a less than admirable attempt at blending into the doctor’s brilliant looking office. Curves, arches, fine details and ceramics shades of white and blue littered the room’s architecture. High tech gizmos sat on his glorious Oaften white wood desk. It was a stark contrast to the barrens he was forced to live in, the stagnant part of the planet born of refugees flooding any planet that would give them shelter.

“Err, Mr. Maber.” The Doctor faulted in his speech. “This is the third time you’ve seen me this month alone. How long have you been on Avsgot Vale now? How long do you intend to stay? I see people like you a lot more than you must realise. You’ve fought the good fight, come out alive but scarred mentally and physically and are looking to cleanse yourself someway. I know this will sound like a sales pitch, but from my experience, you will get some of your life back with this procedure. You needn’t torture yourself, constantly aware of your physical impairment.” There was a long pause as Bromé didn’t react to the doctor’s words. He just stood there, staring at the doorway leading out of the room, held in his place as if bound in place by an invisible force. Finally the doctor spoke again. “Do you even realise every time I mention the word ‘hand’ you stroke your prosthetic?”

Bromé looked down and sure enough his good hand caressed the bad. He stood still for a long, pensive second, then all of a sudden, as if the words broke his bonding to the ground, he curtly nodded and walked to the door.

“Thanks Doc.”

And he proceeded to leave with the thought burnt into his mind, All I need now is the money.

How does this sound for an RPG? Set during the Yuuzhan Vong war you portray a character on a planet in Vong territory. You can choose to be a "new" Rebel Alliance character, inserted through Wedge Antilles, a member of the resistance taken from the local populace, a soldier who never got off the ground, a simple survivor with no interest in fighting, a Peace Brigade officer, or a Yuuzhan Vong. If anyone thinks of a neat idea for another genre of character they can feel free to offer it to me.

Characters can be on the same planets, or even in the same cells, and can operate together or independently. If anyone would like to propose an overall plot arc (Beyond what the NJO already includes) that can also be incorporated into the RPG.

This one wouldn't be quite so structured as Zoot Wars is, and would be more of a "Hey, the RPG section was updated! *Reads newest post* Alright, then! *writes up their own post*" Updates can be as short or long as necessarry, though I will stress that good spelling and grammar are always appreciated in posts. Who thinks that it's a good idea and wants in? State a character, species, planet or operation, and possibly home planet if you want to take part in it, by the way. If you have other ideas, such as, say, Elegos, who didn't really die, but was replaced with another Camaasi's skeleton be Shedao Shai just to screw with Corran, those will probably also be accepted.

I don't mean to make too many rules in here, and I want to keep it free-flowing. Other than that, havvat it!

... Oh, and one other rule. *Glances up* Please, let's try to limit the number of Jedi. These things seem clogged with 'em when we include too many...

The blackness of space seemed endless, only to be broken by the glimmering spots of stars thousands of parsecs away. Barkoa's mind wandered. Having only just recently passed his jedi trials, he was anxious to get on with his first mission. His servant droid, M-35, walked up to him. Turning to face him, Barkoa tuned into the task at hand.

"Master, we are 30 minutes from our descent into Vathinor. I have uploaded the city maps into your comlink, and your lightsaber is finished charging." said M-35, and he handed Barkoa his double-bladed blue saber.

It had served him well over the years, and it had saved his life many times. He put in into its belt clip, closed his robes around him and walked to his room.

After a quick drink, he closed his eyes. A quick searched revealed his jedi companion, after all, the council would never approve of jedi going alone. Ah, there. Leaving his room he went to get the rest of his gear ready. This wasn't going to be easy, but Master Keema had taught him well. It was this reassurance that made him sure he could do this.

Councilor Valar was a Rapora with speckaled red brown skin and the therapod frame of his species. He wore the ceremonical red brown robe of the Raporan Chief Council. At his side was the spiral emblem of the Raporan faith, the Resurrection cycle, and at his belt was an ornate lightsaber.

Despite his fierce appearance Revak Valar was not a warrior, instead he was the head of the Raporan Diplomatic core, a little used but powerful entity within the Rapora Imperium.

The door of the throne room slid open and Valar stepped inside with his head bowed in subservience. Instead of completely kneeling as a Sith or Warrior, Valar knelt onto both knees while keeping an upright posture signifying his elevation and power from his post.

The Timeless One smiled as he stood from his thrown, "It is good of you to have come on such short notice Councilor."

"I live to serve you my lord, and hasten to your will," Valar answered respectfully, "How may I serve you?"

"In my meditations I've discovered a most disturbing thing, the enemy is attempting to court the Vaathkree into joining their side." The Timeless One smiled slightly at Valar, "The enemy has made a intelligent choice, they could be formidable foes to the Aklasp." The Timeless One smiled, "They would make equally powerful allies."

1. The Rapora are not playable at start.

2. I, Stellar Magic, will post from the point fo view of particularly important characters to set up the chain of events leading to the Rapora Wars.

3. I suggest that you play as though its peacetime at the start, build up your characters and so forth.

To start off I'll post as Jacen Solo:

IC:

The Lomas Qux star system, The Unknown Regions, eight years after the Vong surrender.

Jacen smiled serenely as he banked his T-65 XJ 4 X-wing toward the brilliant green and blue orb below him as he reverted from hyperspace. Then in that moment an icy fist closed over his heart, malevolent hatred, cries of pain and fury exstinguished just as quickly as they'd begun bombarded his senses. Jacen felt a gasp lift from his lips as he reached out with the force, and then all at once the dark screams and torment that had peppered his mind ceased.

He'd been excited at the prospect of finally meeting the Fallanassi, after years searching and sifting through archives and bits of information, now as his starfighter circled the planet a black stain shimmered below him lit from below by an inumerable amount of glowing points of light. Jacen had seen destruction before, the Vong had been good at it, but this seemed farm more calculated, far more cruel, as the planet's now scarred surfaces slowy turned beneath him.

Jacen slowly let out a breath, "R9 start recording, I want a complete holographic record." He twisted the yoke and sent the craft spiraling downward, toward the scar, which had once been a settlment. A hiss escaped his lips as he looked down at the burning structures, and bodies, thousands fo bodies, "Please let it be an illusion, a projection." Jacen swallowed as he saw beheaded corpses and flash burned victims scattered across the ground. Reaching out with the force and his Vongsense he felt the battle the torment, the hatred. Jacen knew now what he saw was not an illusion but reality.

Witht he flick of a switch he cut in the repulsor lifts and slowly lowered the X-wing to the ground. He felt the curious flicker of other minds, some gripped by pain and suspicion, survivors. Jacen unconsciously felt his hand touch his lightsaber as he dropped down from the craft. Slowly in the billowing smoke he walked over to the nearest body and bent down.

His eyes flashed across what had been a young man, his head was gone, severed, but as Jacen looked upon him he felt his gut contract with fear and uncertainty. Something was wrong witht he death, Jacen thought as he stood and slowly walked to another person this one a woman, her tangled hair covered by the soft ash from burning plastic. He knelt and was surprised to see the woman's eyes flutter open. She groaned slowly and pulled herself upright then suddenly the woman's eyes flicked to his face, "Its alright, I won't hurt you."

The woman bit her lip for a moment then glanced around at the destruction, Jacen could see shock and disorientation, her ears were bleeding and so was her nose, signs of being knocked out and concussed by a pressure bomb, "Who are you?"

"Jacen Solo," He answered as he helped the woman upright and felt her wait collapse against him, "Whats yours?"

"Akanah," Jacen felt himself stiffen at the name, Luke's contact with the Fallanassi had begun with her. Slowly Akanah turned her head toward him and smiled slightly, "Did Skywalker tell you about me? I can sense your recognition of my name."

Jacen nodded then turned to the destruction around him, "What happened?"

Akanah's face turned grim, "I don't remember."

Jacen pulled the medical kit fromt he x-wings cargo compartment then glanced to the droid, "R9, place a holocomm call marked urgent, Luke needs to know about this."

The droid twettered its acknowledgement then bleeped a question, "Yes contact Danni too, maybe the vong still have some ships they can send to help rescue survivors. She's closest." He sighed and set to working helping those he could.

ARC Trooper CT-A23-010175, made his way to the command bridge of the ship the Chancellor to meet with the captian. After the brief meeting he need to meet the new General in the brifing room. He walked in, a hologram of the world the sepratists had invaded glowed over the room. 75 studied it and then went to find the General, most likely a jedi who'd want to give him a name. "Jedi," he sighed.

Ulic Horn was crouched behind a stack of crates panting as he ran out of breath. He was a man of avarage height with red hair cut short and a light beard. He was holding his blaster ready to fire as he was running from Stormtroopers as he was a Rebel and a Smuggler, and well it wasn't good to be either right now. He heard someone coming and was ready to jump who ever was coming when, "Oh Sith," he muttered as he noticed his Blaster's charge pack was depleted. "I'm in trouble." he leaned back and tried to hide in the shadows as a figure started to approach from the other side...

OCC: Just as a refernce I'm Corellian if anyone just wants to use it for part of the story later

Feel free to "come" and "leave" as you please, but try to make it fairly obvious as to whether you are "still there" or have "left".

IC - T'char sat at the bar, a pint of corellian ale in hand, listening to the mellow tones of the Jizz-Wailers playing in the corner. The bar was close to empty, the usual after work crowd yet to show up. He sat alone, waiting for someone friendly to have a conversation with.

Well who needs a new recruit?

This would be a "Just for fun" one, and one that you can join in on and post in as you please.

I want to bring back "The Dark Times" which was, unfortunately, lost in the forums crash. My character was Saith Rayse, and he kinda was going to mess with the whole continuancy of the expanded universe if he went in the entire method I went with him.

We had some other, rather creative characters in there, including Krytos's distinguished clone (I never would have thought of that), Mitth as, well, himself (Not so creative when I think of it), Horn as that female twi'leck (sp?), and Daur/M-guy-who's-name-I-can't-remember as Master Jacob.

This is set in the period during/right after order 66 is executed, and focuses upon the persecuted Jedi, the persecutors, and the people who help them. My guy created his own third faction (Because it's trendy to be differant!) and went off to the dark side where he waged a war on the new Empire in blatant, outright violence, wheras Daur and Krytos were trying to help turn me back.

Characters can go in whichever directions you want them to. Would people be interested in joining/rejoining this RPG if it's created once more? You don't have to be the same character if you rejoin, and the old plot needn't be followed.

All I ask is that anyone who submits uses spell check before submitting.

Three months earlier his personal craft had a few electrical faults and plummetted into this desolate planet.

He has been able to barely sustain himself on the minimal rations he could scavange from his wrecked craft. In his search of the area, he has found no trace of any living creature. And is timid about tasting some of the local folliage, as he has never seen anything of its kind in the past, and isn't sure if it is edible or not.

Its been three months... SOMEONE should have picked up on my rescue beakon by now...

If you want to yell and scream at me for creating as devious an adversary as the Rapora...go ahead.

Now whats going to happen next:

Mad78's debriefing before the Advisory council, you know what Mad, those councilors will grill the Sith out of you.

Trej's debriefing with Grand Admiral Pelleaon.

The Invasion of Csilla, a force of Rapora launch an all out attack on Csilla the capital of the Chiss Ascendancy led by Mit'shren'nuruodo (Thrawn's force using demon of a sister.)

If any of you want to join... Yes, Grand Admiral Thrawn is Alive in this RPG to GAT jump right in. There are plenty of roles as Jedi, bounty hunters, dark jedi...if you want to play as a Rapora or Vagaari PM me.

Now lets get this show on the road.

A second quieter voice echoed in the cabin, "Very well, bring it in." Through the cockpit canopy the hull of an Imperial Destroyer slid to a stop above the craft. A few moments later the ship lurchedinto the landing bay, its wings grinding against the floor before one of the joints failed, toppling the craft on its side. There was no reception committee awaiting it, no fanfare, only just a group of technical specialists ordered to check for passengers and records.

They scrambled onboard, boaring a hole into the canopy for direct entry. Then the lieutenant in charge slipped through the borehole and into the canopy. Behind him the door slid open and an odor hit him life a wall. He turned in time to see the littered bodies, and one woman quaking on the ground.

* * *

Admiral Oreton sat back in his cabin onboard his command ship when his personal holocomm whirred to life. An officer wearing the badge of a fleet captain appeared before him, "Admiral Oreton, we have new information regarding Commodore Dorja."

Oreton immediately straightened at those words, "What sort of information."

"She's alive Admiral, but... I'm afraid she isn't all there anymore. She's not lucid, and the medics can't find anything wrong with her."

"Has she said anything?"

"Yes, she keeps saying he's alive, over and over again." The Captain shrugged, "Sir, I'm taking her to Serenno, if you'd like to meet us there."

"Alright, keep her isolated. Make her as comfortable as you can, and keep her under watch. There's no telling what the Rapora could have done to her."

Your views?

"Yes," Danni answered as she shivered in the cold. A slight smile flickered across her lips as she saw Jacen turn to look back at her, "Any word from the front?"

"We lost Ord Mantell, and Thrawn is dead. Not much more then that. Kenth Hammer is heading to fleet headquarters." Jacen shrugged, "Ulan Shai and my parents should get here shortly."

"Good," Danni answered quietly as she dropped down next to him on scorched earth. The smile quickly disappeared as she saw the desolation around her. Still she tried to carry on the conversation, "How about Jaina?"

"Last I heard she's back with the fleet," Jacen shrugged, "She'll be alright, she always has been tough."

"That she has."

IC: The ruling chambers of the Vagaari Imperator were a plush and formal setting, that much hadn't changed. The purple curtains that had once lined the windows were gone, replaced by a crimson red veil. The once brilliantly adorned table of the chieftans a treasure from millenia ago was gone from the councilor chambers. In its stead a twenty-eight pointed star on the black marble flooring marked where it had stood.

Admiral Draskan ignored his memories of the room, and the memories of the Vagaari that had once lead in it. That was history, and he had vital information for the Imperator. Moving with delibrate speed he marched past the two guards clad in the red armor of the Allegiance Cohort. Still there was one being in the room that Draskan couldn't ignore as he entered. The clack of his claw echoed in the chamber as he stepped from the side and closed with him. He was the Imperator's Praetor, and he was not Vagaari.

The Rapora known as Krendar stood with his eyes watching the Admiral's every move and Draskan felt his pulse quicken as he stepped within the broad oval of the room's center.

Slowly the form of the Imperator appeared at the doorway and waved him forward. Draskan hoped the news that he'd be bringing would not cost him his life.

* * *

Epsilon base was an enormous structure, hidden within the asteroid belt of the world of Palis VII. It was a long abandoned mining post, its girders and compartments long ago converted from its original use, and evidently converted again with each new occupant.

The United Defense Alliance had been no different, Lieutenant Jula Malone thought as he slowly sifted through the cards in his hand. It had taken him to months to teach the locals Sabacca, and now he was coming to regret it.

The Chiss he reflected, have the absolute mastery of the gambling mask. They're born with it he thought and glancing over at his two human opponents from the UDA he thought that the Chiss had given them classes. With a sigh he tossed his cards on the table and leaned back from it, "Thats it, I'm out."

Across from him General Drask smiled slowly and lowered the cards, "Thank you for another game lieutenant, perhaps we should sometime try a less random form of gaming, dejarka perhaps?"

Jula frowned, "No, I'm kind of tired of these games. My troops are too sir." He shook his head, "Hopefully Hirotek will let us infiltrators loose pretty soon. We'd like to see some action." Maybe show the Vagaari how the GFFA can get them at home he didn't add.

General Drask just shook his head, with the chiss military gone he'd been pulled into orbit around the UDA, and like Jula he wanted to get a chance to strike back. But he hid it better then his Human friend. Beside him Commander Menisa Lore yawned, "Yeah I want off this rock too." She sighed as she set her cards down on the makeshift table, "My pilots are itching to go, whenever General Drask has orders to give us, we'll be ready."

Suddenly the other human, the man straightened as a chirp sounded in his pocket followed by a voice, "Base commander Denim Alexi to the bridge. Hirotek's forces have just dropped out of hyperspace."

It had also been a week for the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances to make plans and formulate a true strategy for the conduct of the war. Something which hadn't really existed up until now. Now Cal Omas was hunched over displays of the situation in the Federation War Room, and conferring with the best minds he could gather.

Kenth Hammer could feel the determination flowing from the Commander and Chief. The knowledge of what the war was now becoming and his choices might have weighed down most others, but now Cal was displaying the resilience that had carried him through the Vong and Killik invasions. But Kenth knew that evend determination had limits, "Supreme Chancellor, we need to reorginize our forces and establish a true set of war aims."

"War aims," Cal answered with a shrug, "We're on the defensive right now Master Hammer, what we need is a plan for holding on to what we have." Cal glanced over to Admiral Kre'Fey busying himself with a set of hyperspace routing maps, "Admiral, we need to establish a defensive line."

"I agree councilor, but should it be a defense in depth or a point defense?"

Kenth shook his head, "A defense in depth, we need to be able to counterattack with overwhelming numbers in order to defeat any Raporan lodgement."

"I concur, therefore our best course of action will be to make the main line of resistance along the Hydian Way. Our forward worlds will act to delay any forces launched against them until reinforcements from the way can arrive." Kre'Fey smiled, "We'll also be able to quickly and efficiently manuever forces from one side of the galaxy to the other in the event of contact."

"Good, I'll cut the orders immediately, 1st and 3rd fleets will take up positions from Hoth to Yag'dhul, while the 2nd, 4th, and 5th fleets will be deployed from Duro to the Imperial Border. We'll keep the 6th in reserve around Coruscant."

Join the greatest Imperial Role Playing site in the galaxy! Under the High Command of The Imperial Remnant, the Empire has re-grown from the ashes of the old empire. We seek to influence the civilians of the galaxy and end the rule of the Jedi and the Sith! Join today as one of the many following:

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Annnnyways, I was wondering if anybody has ever been in a SW sim instead of an RP. If anybody ever frequented the SWSF boards on AOL (back when they existed, years ago), they'll know what I'm talking about. It involves standard roleplaying like you've got here, with everybody running around with their character and adding on to the story. However, there are some more things. You see, each person is a member of a galactic faction (Rebs, Imps, Hapans, CSA, etc). Each faction controls planets/systems in the galaxy and collects taxes from those systems to build ships, troops, vehicles, facilities, defenses, etc. The leader of each faction gives each member a ship or ships to command based on their rank or respect or performance, however the leader determines. The factions then go about their ways, fighting enemies, allying with each other, gaining new planets through force or deplomacy, etc. Basically, imagine Rebellion except each of your fleets is controlled by another person, and its not just the Empire vs. the Rebellion. It has just as much depth as these RPs that you do here, but it comes with more "reality" -- fleet battles, planetary assaults, gaining/losing worlds, political intrigue, etc.

If anybody's interested, I could tell you a lot more about what I know. I was very involved for years doing that sort of stuff. I think with everybody here being Rebellion enthusiasts (I assume), something like this could really work. Imagine playing Rebellion except having a lot more control, including having a real story going on with the action: real plots, real characters, real interaction.

You could just PM me or reply here if you want. Let me know what you think.

Rapora Wars Directory, Dictionary, and Encyclopedia:

Basic Dictionary of Factions and Species:

The Aklasp:

“Fear is what we are, beings that know no fear nor age nor death.â€