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SW Sith TaskmasterSith Inquisitor Kozlov looked out at the starscape surrounding his star destroyer. His star destroyer. The corners of his mouth rose in pleasure at the sound of that. The Virulent was a monstrosity, it could easily take on the largest of the Republic's battleships or cruisers. However for this mission he required a far less imposing display of his burgeoning power. That was why the Virulent was here rendezvousing with the Mandalorian Warcruiser that hung in space besides it. The warcruiser was smaller than the star destroyer, but not by much. It was not the ship's size though which made it an imposing vessel in this case but rather the twin rail gun cannons hanging on the warcruiser's 'wings'. Inquisitor Kozlov had seen the damage those weapons could inflict and witnessed the brutal efficiency practiced by the owner of the warship. It was that man that Kozlov had need of now and the whole reason for this meeting.
Kozlov acknowledged the interruption by his miralu
Waiting for the Spring - starter The Skinner took all of them. Seventeen bare bodies, red meat beginning to go white with frost. The fire had died hours earlier. Black and white ash mottled the floor and soaked up what blood had not yet frozen. There were footprints in the mess, signs of the desperate fight that must have taken place. The fragments of a bone knife lay charred in the fire pit.
She stood in the mouth of the cave until the dark time became the light time and drifts of snow began to grow against her boots, sure that her eyes were dreaming. None of them stirred, and she did not wake, and when the cold began to bite her, the mourner became a scavenger. The door swung down and sealed itself behind her as she moved inside, taking what she would need. Lightning’s fur cloak, White-eye’s ancient metal dagger, Mushroom’s boots, Rougher’s firestone, the brace of frozen rats Green had caught to feed his female and their child.
Dawn of the Supremacy WarThe Forces of Humanity
Without fur to keep warm, we stole fire from the heavens. Without claws for protection, we shaped weapons of stone and metal. The Earth offered gifts and we accepted them. We learned to tame its power and harness its potential. Cut from the forests, carved from the mountains, and built by our own hands, we raised our civilizations from the dust of antiquity. But as time wore on we turned upon each other and squandered our inheritance. No more. We saw you prowling in the shadows, beyond the firelight’s reach, licking your lips as you prepared to steal what you believed we wasted. You thought we had become weak, a defenseless herd, ripe for the slaughter. You could not be more gravely mistaken.
By threatening us, you sealed your own fate for you were the final piece. Our fear of you brought us together but our bravery kept us from drifting apart. Your blood made us stronger and our intellect ma
Darkness pools the plains of Euphoria.
Starry Night"Aren't they beautiful?" Gloria sighed as she watched the dark heavens above. In the countryside far away from the ruckus of modern urban life, the shining stars, hidden from view by that annoying light pollution, were free to show their full glory. And it was a cloudless and a moonless night to boot.
It was nights like this that Gloria enjoyed to sit back and relax, watching the stars go by for hours on end. Her little brother, Jonathan, pointed to the skies. "Look there sister! It's that consta -" he struggled to pronounce the word, "Constaltion?"
Gloria laughed and pinched the little boy's cheek. "Constellation," she corrected him. She had spent the past few days teaching him of all eighty-eight constellations, from their names, patterns, and even history.
"Constellation," Jonathan repeated slowly. "Constellation. Constellation!"
She patted him on his head, proud of his effort. Gloria then pointed to the one Jonathan had pointed to earlier. "Do
One Final Flight There was a sudden lurch as they left warp, the hull creaking with stress, a sharp crack as one of the hull plates failed. The lights on the bridge flickered, dimmed, went out. A tortured seal gave out, and there was a brief hiss from a ruptured pipe before the automatic shutoff clicked on.
And they were waiting for them. Three fighters, the closest a couple hundred kilometers away, its drive tails visible as a sudden elongated star through the bridge window. The pilot, Aa’sin, glanced at it, flicked a switch, and pulled the yoke up and out from its rest.
“Hold on,” he said, and let the throttle out. A dull roar rattled the ship, acceleration pushed the captain back into the seat, another scream of protest erupting from the hull.
“We running, Captain?” Aa’sin asked, swinging his long, furred head to the left.
“Don’t have much fuel, Captain,” came Dorrin’s voice from the com.
Sand gets just everywhere – even into supposedly hermetically sealed electronics. Sand is also the intrinsic enemy of all functioning connections, both mechanical and conductive in nature.
And if there’s one thing, a desert planet like Tatooine has plenty of, it’s sand.
Ooo ooo ooO
Sandtrooper TK-1032 should have realized a lot sooner, that the usual background noise of Mos Eisley was no longer reaching his ears except in a warped and muted version; but since the Devastator herself had jumped into the system a few hours earlier, and in all the turmoil resulting from the arrival, he’d had other things to worry about.
It didn’t become a problem, either, until TK-1023 was about to routinely check a landspeeder, and couldn’t understand a word of what the old man in it was saying.
“What?” the sandtrooper replied, perhaps not the most polite of all possible answers, but it did the job, and anyways, politeness was just a waste of time, in
Sand kriecht einfach überall rein – selbst in angeblich hermetisch abgeschlossene Elektronik. Sand ist außerdem der intrinsische Feind jeglicher funktionierender Verbindung, sei sie nun mechanischer oder leitender Natur.
Und wenn es eines gibt, wovon ein Wüstenplanet wie Tatooine reichlich hat, dann ist es Sand.
Ooo ooo ooO
Sandtrooper TK-1032 hätte eigentlich schon deutlich eher merken müssen, dass er den üblichen Hintergrundlärm von Mos Eisley nur noch gedämpft und verzerrt wahrnehmen konnte, aber nachdem die Devastator höchstselbst vor ein paar Stunden ins System gesprungen war, und in der ganzen Aufregung, die daraus erfolgt war, hatte er ganz andere Sorgen.
Zum Problem wurde das ganze auch erst, als TK-1032 routinemäßig einen Landspeeder kontrollieren wollte, und kein Wort von dem verstehen konnte, was der alte Mann darin zu ihm sagte.
„Was?“ gab der Sandtrooper zurück, vielleicht nicht die h
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