Originally posted by splendidAp
all the ones you sent came out properly, are there more pictures for those left? also when you have time can you send Lumiya, Darkside Companion, and A Tale from the Dark Side. Thanks.
There are no more pictures for the pages that I posted, I'll post them in coordination with the part of the story that they are in.
And I kind of asked Ush a while back, and he told me just to post small excerps every now and then, so I'll post some more in a few days or so.
Here's part five of Evil Never Dies:
A Dark Religion
The order of the Prophets of the Dark Side goes back nearly a thousand years to the three-eyed mutant Darth Millennial, a Sith Shadow Hand whose instincts drove him to see more sense in Lord Kaan's cutthroat Rule by the Strong than Bane's limiting Rule of Two. Gifted with the ability to foresee the future, Millennial was often at odds with his Sith Master, Darth Cognus. Barely escaping his Master's wrath, Millennial fled to the planet Dromund Kaas. There he meditated on Sith teachings and combined them with the theories of early and pre-Republic thinkers like Plaristes and Dak Ramis. The result was an intricate religion the dark sider called the Dark Force. Hailing himself as a prophet chosen by the will of the Force, Millennial and his religion attracted many Force-users of considerable intelligence, as well as multitudes of naïve Sith cultists. Those who disagreed with the tenets of the Dark Force were labeled heretics and destroyed.
Centuries passed and so did Millennial, but his faith lived on, at one point seducing the Jedi Kibh Jeen. Eventually, Darth Sidious discovered the secret order, and bent these Prophets of the Dark Side to his will. When the Prophets were obliquely reintegrated into Darth Bane's line of the Sith, Palpatine secretly gave them the duty of providing early training for some of his dark siders. Occasionally, Palpatine asked the Prophets to train a devotee to the exalted levels of Emperor's Hand, Emperor's Eyes, or Emperor's Reach. Just as the Prophets only ever trained one individual to the rank of Emperor's Reach for Palpatine, likewise they only trained one to the status of Emperor's Eyes. However, this latter individual was one of the Prophets' own.
A former Nightsister of Dathomir, High Prophetess Merili was one of only two Emperor's Eyes that Palpatine ever employed. The Emperor's Eyes were those Dark Side Adepts with a particular propensity for seeing into the Force. Like the other Prophets, Merili was able to gaze into the future; the invaluable difference, however, was that Merili's mind seemed to partially exist there. She was thus not only able to witness coming events with uncanny clarity, but on rare occasion she was able to in fact manipulate them, much like a skilled Jedi Master can influence the outcome of a conflict using Battle Meditation. Needless to say, the stresses of temporal ambiguity made Merili's hold on reality tenuous at best. Of Palpatine's other Emperor's Eye, a mutant called Triclops, little is known, save that Palpatine considered the being a great personal failure.
The Prophets of the Dark Side have always maintained their sovereign right to accept additional adherents of the Dark Force at their discretion. The Prophets have three ranks in their order: acolyte, followed by prophet, with each subdivided into sub-ranks such as "Lesser Prophet" and "High Prophet," and ultimately the overarching position of Supreme Prophet (all acolytes and prophets of lesser orders are easily identifiable by their lack of a beard). The Prophets were one of Palpatine's most jealously guarded secrets, kept concealed even from Darth Vader for a time.
When Supreme Prophet Kadann adamantly disagreed with Palpatine concerning a guaranteed Imperial victory at Endor, Palpatine sent his Inquisitors to Dromund Kaas to reeducate Kadann's priesthood, causing the ecclesiastics to take flight to the secluded planet Bosthirda. After Endor, while the Prophets were believed dead, former Imperial Intelligence Director Blackhole -- himself a former Prophet of the Dark Side -- helped acting-Emperor Sate Pestage set up a "Dark Side Church" on Imperial Center with a clergy of false Prophets, including a diminutive Bimm and a Null to impersonate the current Supreme Prophet Kadann and his High Prophet Jedgar, respectively. As religion had been largely outlawed under Palpatine, these charlatans filled a tremendous spiritual need for the population and became highly idolized. This later empowered the fakers to actually dictate rule of the Empire. They determined to bestow Emperorship on whomever secured the glove of the dead Darth Vader's severed right hand -- a Mandalorian crushgaunt which Vader had fitted around one of Lord Kaan's indestructible Sith amulets. The Imperial Grand Admiral Afsheen Makati eventually destroyed these prophet imposters, though one of them, Orloc, escaped to continue his con. Meanwhile, the real Prophets continued to plot from the planet Bosthirda, until they were found by their most dangerous and embittered pupil, Azrakel, on a tip from a mysterious source. Armed with his double-bladed lightsaber and Darth Vader's prophesied gauntlet, Azrakel managed to destroy a number of the flabbergasted Prophets, including Supreme Prophet Kadann, before being permanently put down. Though the surviving Prophets thought they were now safe, within minutes of Azrakel's death, the Dark Lady Lumiya and her apprentice Carnor Jax finished the job.
Firepower
May 12, 2006
Page 5
"It's no use, Ali," Mak said an hour later. "She's made up her mind."
"Your Alliance is no different than the Empire," Ketrian repeated, glaring at the group about the holo-projector. "You're only interested in what I can do for you. And you," she turned to Makintay, "all you care about is your X-wing repairs."
"How can you go on working for Palpatine after what we've shown you?" Merak demanded.
"I knew he wasn't perfect," Ketrian told him. "He's human, like all of us. Given the same unlimited power, who can say your leaders would not become just as corrupt?" She picked up her coat. "I've been here too long already. Pedrin's goons will be asking questions. Where's Grathal?"
"He had to get back," Mak said. "We have another speeder hidden nearby. I'll drive you to the inn." Ketrian stormed past him as he opened the door. "Don't mind her," he told Merak, "that was her standard argument. It's easy to think of no one but yourself if you label everyone else as worthless."
Ketrian hesitated, then stalked outside. It was raining and she pulled her coat hood about her face. Makintay and Alikka said nothing as they joined her.
They'd gone only a few paces when Mak suddenly stopped. He cocked his head and peered up into the night sky. "Listen," he said. Then they heard it too, the roar of airspeeders. On Hargeeva only the Imperial military used airspeeders. Searchlights settled on the warehouse and its surroundings.
"Slag!" Mak cursed. "They've found us. Come one. This way. Hurry!" He pulled them into a narrow connecting alley.
Behind them a blaster battle erupted as the trapped Rebels returned fire. Then a mighty explosion filled the streets with a flare of light.
"What was that?" Alikka said.
"We can't help them now." Mak said grimly, urging her forward. He skidded to a halt at the next corner. "Troopers," he snarled. "They found our speeder." He drew his blaster, looking set to make a fight of it.
Ketrian stared at him. "What are you trying to do, get me killed? I've got nothing to hide." She made to step around him.
"You think they'll believe that?" Mak pulled her back. But too late, the movement had been seen. A blaster bolt impacted where Ketrian had stood.
"Drop your weapons and step clear of the building," the ranking trooper called.
"Now look what you've done," Ketrian wailed. "They think I'm a Rebel, too."
"They've got us trapped," Mak cursed. "When those speeders show up, they'll blast us. There's only one way out. You two will have to be my prisoners. Hostages, okay?"
"Hostages?" Ketrian gaped at him.
"Good idea," Alikka said, then to Ketrian, "it's our only chance." The trooper repeated his command for them to surrender, and added, "This is your final warning." Overhead, they could hear an airspeeder closing, its lights turning night into day.
Mak didn't need that illumination to see Ketrian's face -- she had gone as white as snow. "I'm sorry, Ket," he said. "Come on." Mak put an arm about Ket's throat and shoved Ali forward with the blaster.
A searcher light immediately blinded them all and a snarling voice called, "Drop that weapon, Rebel."
"Back off or I kill them," Makintay shouted.
The Imperials didn't allow him a moment for negotiation. The ground trooper and another in the speeder fired in unison, sending concentric blue power ripples through the rain. Ketrian felt Makintay try to shield her, then the stun blast darkness became complete.
* * *
Deep Spoilers
May 26, 2006
Page 3
Neb Neb and Spleed cleared the crevice and chased after Brooboo. The three submersibles knifed through the deep water, racing over the mountain's foothills and toward the passage. Several remote-seein' devices bobbed around the tunnel's entrance. Neb Neb's sub lifted and rolled. The daring Gungan felt his long earlobes flop against the ceiling of his upside-down bongo's canopy, and he stomped on the accelerator. The roll was a deliberate, perhaps even clever attempt to make an inverted pass over the Brooboo's bongo and gain the lead. There was only one problem with Neb Neb's tactic: Spleed was attempting the exact same maneuver.
The collision was spectacular. There was a loud whummf as a bright spark flared between Neb Neb and Spleed's bongos, which had swung directly over Brooboo Seep's sub, and an explosion of bubbles spilled outward in all directions. The blast pushed down on Brooboo's bongo, tearing at his sub's rotating fins and causing him to swerve, but Brooboo held his course.
Neb Neb and Spleed were less fortunate. Spleed's forward diving plane had been sheared off; Neb Neb's starboard buoyancy tank had ruptured, and both subs were spinning toward the jagged cliffs of the underwater mountain. As Brooboo vanished into the tunnel's dark orifice, Neb Neb and Spleed punched their respective ejectors, and both pilots -- still contained within their hydrostatic cockpit bubbles -- were catapulted, seats and all, away from their subs. A split second later, their bongos crashed into the mountain, spraying debris across the lake floor.
The two ejected bubbles carried their occupants up from the depths, rising with a current that flowed past the side of the mountain. The bubbles were close enough that Neb Neb and Spleed could see each other, and they exchanged knowing glances. Having crashed in previous competitions, they could easily anticipate what would happen next. They would have to face their sponsors, who would no doubt be angered at the loss of the expensive bongos. Then there would be the outcries from the sport's critics. Dubbed by bongo racers as "fun-boggers," these were the clean-up squads and safety consultants, conservation groups and concerned parents, all of whom would be relieved and delighted were bongo racing abolished.
Despite these concerns, both Neb Neb and Spleed took certain comfort in one additional bit of knowledge: They were famous. By the next Otoh Gunga Challenge, some race enthusiasts would have to consult a datapad to recall that Brooboo Seep had claimed the last trophy, but nobody would forget the incredible crash and the two Gungans who had survived it.
Neb Neb and Spleed's hydrostatic spheres broke the water's surface, and the Gungans squinted at the brightness of the daylit sky. They deactivated the upper half of their spheres, leaving each of them sitting in a transparent saucer. Although neither had won the race, both had survived, which was reason enough to perform their post-race ritual. As they were rocking with the waves in their floating hemispheres, the ritual's degree of difficulty was increased greatly, but both believed that to forego the ritual would almost certainly bring bad luck.
Neb Neb and Spleed faced each other, nodded once, then spoke simultaneously: "Mayda bubbles always bees behind yous." Then they cocked back their necks, hawked, and spat high into the air. With some satisfaction, they watched the twin gobs of saliva arc over the water and collide with a stomach-churning splat. Their aim was true and their good luck was intact.
Or so they thought.
* * *
"Yousa revoken uss-ens bongo licenses?!" exclaimed Spleed, who stood beside Neb Neb in the Otoh Gunga office of the bongo race commissioner, Cova Burmooze. Hearing the words "revoken" and "licenses" in the same sentence, Neb Neb looked like he was about to fall ill. It was bad enough that Cova didn't believe a word they'd said about Squidfella Quiglee. It was even worse that Squidfella's bongo had been found empty in the crevice, and that no one had seen him since the race. Even worse was the fact that Neb Neb and Spleed were widely suspected of having killed Squidfella in the crevice. But now, having their licenses revoked ... well, that was the very worst indeed.
"Da Rep Council," Cova informed the devastated pair, "also suggest-ed yousa showdabe thrown inda lock-up place until wesa know Squidfella Quiglee isa live, boot Boss Nass say dare gotta be mure evidence. Still, a lotta Gungans isa callen youse deep spoilers, un a lotta elders isa pitty irate wit yousa for boomin yousa bongos into da mountain."
"Dey wowdabe mure heppy if wesa got pasted?" Neb Neb asked with genuine concern, unphased by Cova's remark about "deep spoilers." Neb Neb and Spleed had heard that one before.
Cova shrugged. "Da elders say da moutain is sacred."
"Sacred?!" Spleed sputtered. "Wesa broken no rules! Wesa no da ones dat putta tunnel through dat mountain! Since when is dare no crashen law in an official bongo race?"
Cova ignored Neb Neb's remarks. "Yousa duey crash-ed at da wrongo time. Da Rep Council gotta complaints about bongo racen. Some sayen too noisy, some sayen too messy, some sayen possible maxibad gamblin and corruption--"
"Gamblin and corruption?!" echoed the racers.
"Dat's right," Cova said, and his fixed gaze carried a hint of casual suspicion. "Dare's some sayen dat you duey throwen da races un crashen ... on purpose."
The accusation hit Spleed and Neb Neb like a blast of hot air. Eyes wide and earlobes tensed, Spleed protested, "Yousa tink sumbotty payen uss-ens to crash? Den yousa tell me whosa dat sumbotty is, causen mesa wanten to see dem clams!"
Before the race commissioner could respond, Neb Neb held out his hands, palms exposed. "Lookee, Cova," he said.
"Wesa got nutten to hide. Yousa wanna investigate uss-ens? Do it!"
Cova drummed his thick fingers on the top of his desk. "Yousa tellen mesa dat yousa always rilly racen to win?"
"Absolootly!" Neb Neb answered without hesitation. "Wesa nebber competen to lose!"
"So all-n yous crashes ... ?"
"Axadentes happen," said Spleed.
Apparently skeptical, Cova said, "Axadentes, huh? What if some say both-n yous no lucky un clumsy?"
Kella Rand, Reporting...
December 02, 2005
Page 3
"Okay." She was silent a moment, considering. Roughly three hours to dig up anything more, then her story would have to stand until she could update it with the next scheduled courier droid in four days. Although, with the apparent political scandal brewing, GNN might consider the story hot enough to send a special courier to collect an update sooner--
Nostler interrupted her train of thought. "I hear the assassination's getting pinned on the New Republic," he said.
She looked back up. "Yeah, so it seems. The Indus haven't actually come out and accused them, but everyone's pretty much thinking it."
"Based on what?"
"Nothing conclusive, but it's probably enough," she said. "Almost certainly enough to nix any possibility of an alliance. It'll take a few days for the investigators to figure out exactly how the explosion occurred, but the Council's already announced its intention to elect a new chief and rush ahead with another vote tomorrow. Sounds like they've made their minds up to me."
"What does the New Republic have to say about all this?" Nostler asked. "You ought to be able to get the inside story since you know L'varren so well."
"Not that well," she said, for what felt like the hundredth time since that incident on Corellia last year. Would she ever live it down? "He's shocked, appalled, horrified -- about what you'd expect when your aide's suspected of blowing up the system's leader."
"Uh huh," Nostler said. "Any chance he didn't?"
"The Authorities don't seem to think so. That detonator thing makes Aden took real bad, and L'varren didn't help by claiming diplomatic immunity to keep the rest of his people from being dragged down to the Hall and questioned."
"What do you think?" he asked.
Kella hesitated. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "The circumstantial evidence certainly points to Aden, and if they have any other suspects, they're not telling us. But on the other hand, what's the point? Why would the New Republic want to knock off Barayel?"
"Maybe he was going to vote no," Nostler suggested.
"Yeah, but getting rid of him only means they start over with someone new who might also vote no," she said. "And it's a good bet this whole mess has soured the Indus on the idea of an alliance, anyway. Unless the New Republic plans to storm in and takeover, all it really accomplished is to virtually assure that Indu San will end up staying neutral until the war is over.
"And," she added, "You might find this interesting. Some Indus are even taking it in the opposite direction. l talked to a lobbyist for a business consortium who basically wants to kick the New Republic out of the system and invite the Empire back."
Nostler nodded, unsurprised. "The Empire wasn't all that unpopular here, at least not with some of the people in power," he explained. "Sure, the resistance groups were glad to see them go, but there's also a lot of people who made a lot of credits from the Imperials, and they don't want to give that up.
"Unless," he added, "the New Republic wants to work out the same sort of kickbacks the Imperial governor offered to keep them fat, happy, and loyal..." He shook his head. "No. Probably not."
"Well, it's beside the point now," Kella said. "Looks like they're going to sit the fence like everyone else."
"Can you blame them?"
"Not really," she conceded. "With all the skirmishes still going on, why irritate the Imperials with a big show of support for the New Republic when there's always a chance the Empire might be back in charge someday?" She dug into the datatote, came up with a handful of datacards. "Well, I guess I'd better get busy. Got a booth I can use?"
"Make yourself at home."
"Always do." She grinned her thanks.
Settling into the small editing cubicle, Kella spent the next hour and a half going over the vidclips she'd collected during the past two weeks. In the face of the new direction the story had taken, with the focus shifting from the alliance to the assassination, most of them were unusable, but a perverse sense of curiosity made her study all the ones pertaining to Barayel again.
Perhaps they'd show some clue that revealed the way he'd planned to vote, or some hint he'd known things were about to blow up. Just in case she'd missed anything important--
About halfway through, she discovered she had.
The clip came from the datacard she'd used yesterday when, as usual, after a curt "no comment" from Barayel, she'd gone on to corner his assistant. The hovercam showed that she'd caught him near his chief's chair in the Council Chamber, and they'd spent several minutes chatting.
But as she watched, it gradually dawned on her that the real item of interest in the interview wasn't the conversation itself. Rather, it was what she could occasionally glimpse going on in the background.
Someone was messing around with something at Barayel's place at the table. The place that, a mere 26 hours later, had so messily erupted in the chief councilor's face.
Hitting the hold button, she froze the image and studied the screen. Visible beyond the assistant's shoulder, someone dressed in the blue uniform of Council Authority crouched in front of Barayel's spot at the head of the long U-shaped council table. The back of the chief's comm and voter panel was removed, and while she couldn't quite make out what the man was doing, she did recognize who it was.
On his knees, again, was Darme, the same Authority who had shot Aden.
Kella sat back and frowned thoughtfully at the screen. She'd seen so many of the blue-coated guards at the Council Hall the past few weeks that she'd ceased to even notice them anymore. In charge of security, they were everywhere, all the time, doing all sorts of things. Above notice, and above suspicion.
But given the current circumstances...
Running the vidclip back to where the hovercam had begun recording the interview, she circled a spot on the viewscreen with an editing pen and that section instantly magnified. Though of poor quality, the image was clear enough to see what Darme held in his hand and, heart suddenly pounding, she advanced the clip forward click by click.
And as she watched, she smiled.