Star Wars: Reclamation

Wrench cradled his deece in his arms as the crowded transport jostled, never losing his footing. He and his brothers stood alone, their painted armor and pristine weapons offering them a bubble of anonymous serenity amongst the teeming masses.

“I don’t like it, leaving the Jedi” he said, opening a closed channel to his brothers. All wore their faces and shells, polished, but without any of the shine of the Kamino foundries. Blooded in battle, each clone had lost too many brothers to count, though many had rituals of memory. Sparks, for example, had painted a small dot between the green and yellow trimmings of the 745th for each of the fallen. Sparks was dead, now, shot by Wrench as he attempted to prevent the escape. Wrench idly rubbed his thumb over the spackle of spots he had added to his armor in honor of his dead batch-mate.

Relic nodded his head in agreement, but responded just the same “They stick out like sore thumbs. Gotta get the lay of the land, and there’s enough with our face out there that we won’t be noticed.”

“Why are we hiding? Reeks of cowardice? Republic’s still around, even if that... Empire’s gutted it.” The gruff voice of Mule interjected. “Still Seps to fight.”

“Cause we don’t know what’s happened.” Wrench retorted, glaring at the heavy trooper “Republic let this happen, can’t trust them with the Generals. Not yet, at least.”

“Wrench is right.” The last of their group, Sergeant Nico agreed. “We’ve got a duty to the Generals, and that means we need to be out here, gathering intel.” He glanced back at Wrench “Patches and Clamshell and Bugle are with them, and they’re Jedi, warriors, even without sabers they can handle themselves.”

“Archaeologists and children, most of them, sir.”

“But still Jedi.” The Sergeant's tone made it clear the conversation was over.

Relic stared out over the mass of refugees. His eyes followed a beautiful young twi-lek who was moving from refugee to refugee. She was not alone: many were wandering amongst the hopeless crowd, some people peddling their wares or belongings or themselves for credits for the next leg of their journey.

“We need a place to hide. Can’t leave the Jedi on Reecee for too long.”

“Seemed happy enough in the ruins of that old city...” Joked Mule, though Wrench could tell that his heart wasn’t really in the joke.

“Heads up,” warned Relic. “Brothers. 456th, I think” He pinged the location of their brothers on his companion’s HUD. A squad of clones in armor trimmed with a deep purple had just strolled into the cavernous hold.

The squad’s sergeant noticed them immediately and waved, leading his troops towards them.

“Hail, Brothers!” The Sergeant, whose face was adorned with Jaig Eyes and a purple spiral down one arm, called out, forgoing a closed channel for open communication. He intended to make a statement, then.

“Brothers.” Nico answered, clasping his counterparts right arm with his. “Where are you travelling.”

“Coruscant. Reporting for duty to the glorious empire, travelling from Jomark.”

“Left a whole battlefield of tinnies and clankers behind us.” Another clone, his armor dotted with purple paint splashes, scattered like bullet wounds on his torso added.

“I even got me a Jedi. Can’t believe they turned traitor, but we were ready.” A second clone added. Wrench felt Mule shift, but someone, Relic, probably gently touched him.

“You didn’t serve with Krell. The jedi were planning this war from the start,” the last clone in the purple armored squad said, his voice gruff. “I was transferred from the 501st after Umbara, but I’ll never forget how many of our brothers the jedi killed.”

“Where are you going?” Asked the purple shelled sergeant, introducing himself as Regs, putting his hand on the clone that had just spoken.

“Outer Rim, Odryn. Heard that was where the GAR was regrouping.” Nico effortlessly lied, but the other clones stiffened slightly. Where the atmosphere had been convivial before, now it was tense. Wrench subtly shifted his Deece to be more accessible, and he knew that Relic had done the same and Mule had reached for his heavy repeater.

“Republic’s Gone. We are soldiers of the Empire now, brothers.” Regs growled. “You know where your loyalties lie, right?”

“Empire, right. Slip of the tongue, still hasn’t sunk in, yet.” Nico nodded, and Regs relaxed, though a hand still rested lightly on the pistol holstered on his thigh.

For a while, the two groups sat, exchanging news of brothers they had served with or gotten to know on different leaves. Finally, as the ponderous bulk freighter docked with the great space station known as The Fist, the clone who had killed the Jedi turned to Relic and spoke.

“With a name like yours, I bet you like old things. Lemme show you what I got off the Jedi I bagged.” Without asking for a response, he pulled a lightsaber from his bag.

“That’s a training saber.” Relic spoke softly, and Wrench, who had relaxed, was tense as a board again.

“Yeah, what? So? Jedi’s a jedi, Master or Padawan, traitors all. What, you a Jedi Lover?”

“We’re Soldiers. Jorso'ran kando a tome. We don’t kill children.” Nico growled. He tensed the hand he had on his pistol, but Regs was faster, a blast of plasma burning up into the Sergeant's Face Plate.

“Aruetii” Regs shouted, even as two bright cerulean blasts left smoking holes in his armor. Mule had already opened fire with his heavy repeater, sending the clones from the 456th scattering, and Relic and Wrenches, already partially in cover behind benches of the transport, quickly dispatched them.

Mule crouched next to the Sergeant's body. “Frak. Kriffing Frak. Patches should be here.”

Relic, who had gone through a cycle of medic training crouched down next to mule. “He’s gone. No amount of surgery and bacta will fix this.” He checked the other fallen clones. “This one’s still breathing.” He kneeled next to the clone with the bullet hole paint, carbon scoring adding to the design. Relic pulled a bacta patch from his pack.

“What are you doing?” Mule growled, putting a warning hand on relic’s arm. “They tried to shoot us. They killed a kiddy. THEY KILLED THE SERGEANT.”

“They’re brothers.”

“Are they? Nico was my batch mate. We’ve been together since Kamino. They took that away from me. DO YOU KNOW HOW THAT FEELS?”
“Not a single one of us doesn’t, Mule, that’s why....”

Wrench glanced at the door as warning klaxons shrilled through the almost empty cargo hold.

“Argument for another time, mates. We need to get out of here. If we get off this ship, we can get lost in the station.”

Grunting, Mule picked up the fallen Sergeant’s body and propped it over his shoulder, running for the airlock. Relic was not far behind, though Wrench had seen him whisper a blessing and collect the tags of each of the fallen, taking a moment to lay the bacta patch. Wrench himself knew that he’d be adding more sparks to his armor.
 
Great story Thomas!

I'm really enjoying the attention this is getting. I hope I can live up to all your expectations!

As an aside, I decided to change another part of the join. Sorry in advance, but it's not a huge change!

Instead of proclaiming a faction to align with, I'll give you all 45 Alignment Points. These will describe how aligned you are with a faction depending on how many points you dedicate to that faction. Alignment points could increase the rate of which you progress through a faction's ranks. Thematically, alignment points can mean contacts within the faction or general favor the faction is willing to admit towards your party. Make sure your backgrounds agree with your choice. Also, you are not obligated to spend these points at all.

I will be changing the OP to reflect this change. That is all.
Edit: Here is the official change in the OP.
Party Alignment: You have 45 Alignment Points to distribute to the 5 factions. At 15 points, you are considered "Affiliated" for the purposes of Market purchasing. Note, in Black Markets, Affiliation is ignored. Going higher in the alignment in a faction means you are more respected/known in that faction, and thus could rank up faster, allowing access to better equipment.

Oh, also, I changed the Bounty Hunter equipment to "CDEF Rifle." Not a major change, in fact you can probably just ignore it as i'll more than likely fix it on the official stat posting anyways. Just thought I'd let you all know.
 
Am I correct in reading that at the start you don't have a ship carrying 5 people and can have, at best, a basically one man atmospheric fighter? Because if so I should write/retcon my ship out of existence.
 
Party Name: The Bunch
Starting Planet: Tatooine
Party Size: 3
Party Affiliation:
CIS: -10
Hutt Cartels: 15
Imperium: 0
Rebels: 5
Republic: 10
Party Leader: Amb Roell
Party Controller: Amb Roell
Party Manager: Amb Roell
____________________________________________

Name: Amb Roell
Race: Human
Class: Bounty Hunter

Stats:
Strength: 10
Dexterity: 5
Constitution: 10
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 8
Charisma: 10
Piloting: 3
Loyalty: 10

Equipment
CDEF Rifle
CDEF Pistol
1 Thermal Detonator
Mabari Armor


Background:
A native from Babbadod, Amb Roell was drafted into the Republican Army as soon as he came from age. Draft quotas put up after Order 66 was issued and most clones defected to the Imperium kept refilling the over-pouring ranks of the Republic. In spite of seeing only minor action in its first two years of deployment in policing duties, Amb’s unit, the 1024th Company, met success in its first real battles in low-intensity fronts. The experience accrued allowed the 1024th to distinguish itself, and was soon reinforced and equipped with the latest equipment before being shipped to Naboo.

Years had passed since the CIS once more invaded the planet, which ironically had always stayed Republican in spite of being the Emperor’s birthplace. Battles still raged in a constant stalemate that had forced almost half of the civilians to seek refuge elsewhere, and the heavy fighting took a heavy toll on the numbers and morale of the armies. Having risen to lieutenant and momentarily in charge of the 1024th by virtue of being the most senior lieutenant after the death of the captain, Amb was in charge of a particularly dangerous mission: a commando operating behind enemy lines had been ordered to retreat, and the 1024th was tasked with meeting them at the point of extraction and shielding the way back.

The mission went awry. After some fighting, the 1024th secured the extraction point in no-man’s-land, but the commando team did not arrive. Hours after the scheduled meeting and sustaining occasional attacks from CIS forces, the order came to pull back from the salient. Amb refused and in fact advanced against CIS frontlines in order to rescue the commando. From afar, scouts in the 1024th located low scale fighting near the enemy lines. Facing heavy resistance, the 1024th charged into the CIS position, reached the cornered commandos and pulled back trying to outrun a counterattack. The 1024th was practically disintegrated and most commandos died either on the way or at the field hospital.

Court martial followed suit, and Amb Roell was dishonourably discharged. The two surviving commandos, a Bothan and a Crawdite medic, resigned their posts and left the planet with him. They since worked as mercenaries, sympathetic to the Rebels, reluctant to leave their Republican ideals but most of all having become notorious in the Hutt underworld. After a series of successful contracts, the Bunch, as they’re simply known, are generally regarded as able mafia enforcers.
____________________________________________

Name: Sian Pullixa
Race: Clawdite
Class: Medic

Stats:
Strength: 7
Dexterity: 10
Constitution: 8
Intelligence: 9
Wisdom: 13
Charisma: 4
Piloting: 5
Loyalty: 10

Equipment
3 Stimpacks
First-Aid Kit
CDEF Carbine
Padded Armor

Background:
In spite of being shunned and kept in ghettos by the ruling Zolanders in their native planet, Clawdites are appreciated across the galaxy for their shapeshifting abilities. Although usually reluctant to use them, Sian used them to escape her native planet with a Republican diplomatic mission. Soon she was exposed and wooed by the chief of security of the mission to enter the Republican military. Now able to go beyond what was expected of her in the niche society that the Zolanders had allocated for the Clawdites, she eventually obliged. In spite of a certain lack of abilities for combat, she entered the special forces and was trained as a medic and in infiltration techniques.

She took part in a few successful intelligence missions as well as some more standard spec ops and commando raids against enemy outposts across the Republican border systems.
____________________________________________

Name: Dall Kith’ia
Race: Bothan
Class: Commando

Stats:
Strength: 10
Dexterity: 10
Constitution: 6
Intelligence: 8
Wisdom: 8
Charisma: 8
Piloting: 10
Loyalty: 6

Equipment
Flamethrower
1 Fragmentation Grenade
1 Plasma Grenade
Marauder Armor

Background:
 
Am I correct in reading that at the start you don't have a ship carrying 5 people and can have, at best, a basically one man atmospheric fighter? Because if so I should write/retcon my ship out of existence.
Correct.

Take your time Zap. In any case, I will begin working on the first Update either tomorrow or Sunday. I honestly have no idea how long it'll take me from there but my best guess is that you'll have at least 3 or 4 days till I'm done.
 
Instead of proclaiming a faction to align with, I'll give you all 45 Alignment Points.
Well that just saved me a whole heap o' trouble. Forecasting any more tweaks, or can I finally start drafting this with some degree of security? :p
 
I think that's the last change :p

That's the problem with making "different" games, you kinda learn as you go.

Clarification on The Alignment point system. You can lower your alignment less than zero - this will make the faction hostile towards you. This doesn't really give any benefit, but can prove to make your experience more "realistic" depending on your background. That is all.
 
Looks great Zap. Just one thing, you have to spend alignment points to decrease alignment as well as increase Sorry that wasn't clear.
 
Updated my post. Is everything ok?
 

Link to video.
---
"Try not. Do or do not. There is no try." - Jedi Master Yoda


- "Commence."

Marauder Squad zip-lined out of the cloaked dropship, dispatching a pair of idling rebel sentries mid-drop with their blasters and landing safely onto the rooftop of the solar-collection array's command centre. Security had been lax or otherwise re-directed ever since the 402nd's first assault wave had failed to secure a foothold on the planet. Black smoke bellowed in the distance of a sizable ravine which had originally been the initial imperial drop point, a temporary reminder of the rebel's short-lived victory. A victory they would undoubtedly live to regret.

Noble moved on point, followed by Pike and Shield in short pursuit. Knight and Castle were securing the rooftop properly before falling in line, pressing themselves against the sides of the roof entry. With a swift motion of his free hand, Noble gave the order to breach the door. Knight stepped forward, bringing up his satchel, from which he retrieved a pair of durasteel crowbars. With them, he and Castle pried the door open enough for the rest of the Marauders to enter, and initially open the door on the inside. Regrouping, the squad moved down a large, spiraling staircase, their E-11 blasters scanning the ever-appearing horizons with cold dedication.

Moving down to the second floor they come across a blastdoor guarded by two sentries. Noble puts a bolt through both of their chests before they are able to react. When moving up to the door, Pike cuts down a third sentry which had arrived around the corner with his blaster drawn. While Knight and Castle stow away the bodies, Noble pops the top-hatch of the blastdoor maintenance unit, drawing out his vibroblade to cut apart a series of wires, causing the door to make a muffled hiss before opening up.

- "Pike, on point." Noble states, gesturing down the path opened for them. It was a long corridor which leaned to the right, with three closed habitation quarters on the left.
- "10-4." Pike replied.

Moving past the squad to take the lead, Pike moves through the corridor ahead, never ceasing. Behind her moved Noble and the rest, whom opened the quarter doors one after another, and mercilessly gunned down the resting rebels within with precise, life-extinguishing killshots. They didn't even get time to get out of their beds, or scream for their lives.

Screening the next corridor, Pike moved up with the marauders in tow, ahead was yet another blastdoor. Above it stood "Array Control Bridge". There were secondary doors on the left and right which stated "Troop Quarters". Whilst Pike, Noble and Shield stacked up against the blastdoor, Knight and Castle set up energy explosives upon each of the barracks doors, effectively rigging them to blow upon the doors being opened.

Whilst Noble and Pike were working their magic on the blastdoor, a sudden yell echoed from the far-end of the corridor. - "Shi- Bucketheads! Take 'em out!" cried a lone rebel barely before a blaster bolt goes through his throat. He fell to the hard, illuminated floor, seizuring as he claws for breath that will not come. Four additional rebel security officers slip around the corner shortly after with blaster already in hand, and commences fire upon the squad. One blaster shot nearly managing in taking off Knight's head before they retaliate. A hot-blooded blaster exchange ensues.

- "Hurry it up, Noble!" cries Shield as he manages to take out an overly aggressive rebel whom tried to run out of cover for a clear shot.
- "Noble! Get the friggin door open!" adds Knight, taking out two more.
- "Hang on, damnit!" he responds. And just as well, for as the blastdoor opens, so does the barracks doors on either side. A distinct beep emits from the explosives, causing all of marauder squad to run straight through and into a fully-occupied bridge.

The ensuing explosion shakes the facility's superstructure, causing all sorts of electrical fires and damages around the array, including the destruction of the troop quarters, the primary corridor and the violent incineration of whomever within. Luckily, Noble had activated the blastdoor's emergency fire system, causing a secondary pair of doors to close behind them. And though safely past the blast-zone, the powerful shockwave produced sends marauder squad reeling forward, and crashing into the cover of a large terminal board ahead, but there is little time for comfort, for several of the rebels on the bridge had grabbed a hold of their weapons and were firing away at them. Blaster bolts hissed overhead, and there was barely enough room to make it behind the cover of the terminal.

Noble and Pike throws their fragmentation grenades on each side of the bridge, one bolt managing to graze Noble's helmet and leave behind a sizzling scorch mark the size of a fist before he ducks down behind cover. Yet another series of explosions occur, followed by wilhelm screams of agony.

Marauder squad rises to find their opponents either dead or dying. They sweep through the room to ensure that it has been secured whilst Noble and Shield move up to the primary control terminal. Shield begins slicing through the security protocols and begins initiating shutdown routines. The solar array was powering an energy shield generator which was protecting the nearby rebel headquarters from orbital bombardment. No longer.

However, before they could properly react, the emergency fire-doors are blasted apart, and several squads of heavily armed rebels rush through, accompanied by a stout fellow bearing a republic officer's uniform. Noble raises his arm, indicating for the marauders to hold their fire and regroup. A soft beep emits from his wrist-communicator, but he silences it and idles in face of the overwhelming rebel force.

- "Your leaders may think you have outwitted us, and you've caused much destruction and death in your wake, stormie, but all of that has come to an end. We have you surrounded, and there is no escape!"
- "We weren't going to escape." Noble retorts, causing the officer in question to raise a brow and snicker.
- "What are you talking about, murderer?! You think you can take us all down? You think you're some sort of Jedi?" the officer adds, struggling with keeping his ego at bay.
- "No. But we didn't come here on our own." Noble responds with a smug grin underneath his helmet, making a waving motion with his hand at the officer, which anyone looking into the bridge would be able to notice.

- "What ..? You're insane. Men, blas-"

Before the officer can finish his sentence, an imperial dropship uncloaked right outside the bridge, releasing an immediate torrent of heavy blaster fire which effortlessly ripped apart the windows and into the rebels, slicing them apart, including the officer. Before they could even return fire, marauder squad were already out of the bridge and clinging onto the dropship's rappelling ropes as it began moving away from the array.

Noble sighed in relief from the dropship's interior, watching his squad enjoy some much-needed and earned rest. From his seat, he could see several orbital lasers striking down on the far side of the ravine, followed by loud thumps and distant explosions.
 
Dystopia hidden in green paradise
The rotten borough is the source of all strife
And its largest spire leads to the deepest pit
Heralding the downfall of the holy writ


"You Jedi are all weird."

Reflet gasped as her body was thrown out of a trance. Her eyes could barely make discernible pictures, and for a few seconds a harsh ring was the only sound the Grey Jedi's ear could register. With how her body felt like a majority was forcefully ripped out from her, she knew someone just threw herself out her meditative trance.

Towering over the sitting Reflet was a blue haired engineer, coldly gazing at the Clone War leader. Reflet could sense, even without the force, that the young man wanted something badly from her, and was impatient about it to boot. This was going to be a fun conversation.

"You've been repeating the same verse for over five minutes," Vulc Prome chastised, "It's creeping me out."

Reflet sighed. In many ways, the verse was creeping herself out. Every time she has tried to mediate on the Force since her coma, these four lines are the only thing It would communicate back to her. Ju could reasonably assume the Force was trying to give her a prophecy of some sort, but any sort of meaning behind it eluded the Grey Jedi.

Reflet sheepishly consoled, "The Force speaks to us in mysterious ways. I don't pretend to know Its will."

Vulc hollowly chuckled, "If I started muttering like a madman, people would think I'm insane."

Although Reflet could sense some frustration in the engineer's jest, she couldn't help but smile at hidden wisdom behind it. "If you ever met an Order Jedi, you wouldn't be far off from your assumption."

"Noted," Vulc shrugged, almost mechanically. His strange purple eyes wandered to the ceiling, not focusing on anything in particular. There was clearly some alien blood in his lineage, although what species and to what degree was a mystery to the ravenette.

"Now, can I ask you something?" Prome added, incandescently tapping his foot on the ground.

"This ship's not going to get to Naboo anytime soon," the Jedi coyly responded.

"I want you to spar with MAC. I don't think I'll ever have another opportunity to have her face off against a Jedi. Or as close to one as I can get, at least."

Reflet flinched at the blue haired engineer's comment. Was he trying to imply something? "Hey, I was fighting for your freedom before-"

"You were barely a Padawan before you defected," Vulc coldly interrupted. "Your tactics and combat style are unlike the Order's, which is what my droids are the most likely to face. Hence my referral to have a Knight rather than a Grey."

Reflet turned her head away, trying to supress the glare that was in her soul. She knew Vulc had a valid point, but it was still hurtful that, even after the Order was largely destroyed, people still didn't consider a real Jedi. If anything, she was the realest of them all!

"Fine," the Grey Jedi conceded, "But be aware that, even without my lightsaber, that droid won't be able to touch me. A Jedi is too powerful with the Force for a droid to overcome without numbers."

"What about-"

"General Grievous was a cyborg, not a droid. I knew him personally." A hint of annoyance peppered Reflet's response.

Vulc stared at his Jedi bodyguard with disbelief. "You really think I'm that ignorant?" the engineer asked.

"Then what were you going to say?"

Vulc smirked, "What if we get a Ysalamir, dissect it, find out what causes it to repel the Force, and mass produce it?"

"If you could do that," Reflet said, some horror woven into her speech, "You'd change the galaxy forever..."

"And none of my descendants would ever work another day of their lives..."

"There's more to life than credits," Ju scolded.

"Says the Traitor," Vulc replied.

Now Reflet couldn't hold back the daggers of a glare. If the Order was right, saying anger was the source of the Dark Side, she'd be a full-blown Sith by the end of this conversation. Who the hell did this kid think he is, saying that she decided to defect due to money? That kind of corruption was exactly what she was trying to fight against in the Clone Wars!

"I. am. not. a. sellsword," the Jedi angrily declared.

"Bulls***," Vulc responded, "You took the job to be my bodyguard, no?"

"Because I needed the money. Ten year comas kind of do that to you."

Vulc triumphantly raised his index finger, "But that means you do have a price. You're willing to sell your sword to the highest believer. Hence, you ARE a sellsword. It's only logical to assume you fought for the Confederacy for the same reason: money."

Reflet could only stare at the blue haired engineer with scorn. "I. did. not."

"Look," Vulc conceded, "Jedi just don't abandon the Order and its cushy ride through life without a reason. Maybe you wanted money, maybe you wanted power, maybe the Dark Side was calling at you, I don't know, but you can't tell me you saw an oligarchy ran by a Dark Jedi, who was a actually a Sith, and thought 'THIS is what's worth fighting for'"

"I did. It was worth fighting for, and it still is.

The Republic was corrupt to its core. The Order was corrupt, the Senate was corrupt, and its society was corrupt! The Republic made sure no one outside of the Human, Core Worlds ever enjoyed the prosperity of a united galaxy, and stole their propeserity through taxes and nonsensical legislation.

And you can say, all you want, how the Council is just as corrupt as the Republic was, but you know what the difference is? They're /trying/ to build a better galaxy. A galaxy where every world and every race is equal, and enjoy the fruits of the galactic prosperity! Last I checked, the Republic still thins the prewar antebellum is perfectly legitimate system, and it wasn't!

You can not look at me and tell me groups like Jabiimi Nationalist Army forming when the Republic invaded them for their ore, or the Umbarans rising in revolt after their senator was murdered due to political intrigue, or the Quarrens fighting to save their dying culture from the Mon Calimarians, a program approved of by the Republic since they were too "rebellious", is not what the Confederacy actually was actually all about: defending the oppressed and the unrepresented in galactic society. And it turned out both sides were being run by Sith, so it didn't really matter which one you picked in that regards. And now Dooku is dead, and Sidious no longer controls the Confederacy.

Yes, the Council being able to override the elected Parliament is undemocratic, and yes there are issues with wealth in the Confederacy, but damnit we're trying, which is more than what the Republic or the Empire can say. And the Rebels will join our ranks sooner or later when they realize we agree on almost everything and aren't the demons the propaganda said we were.

That is why I defected, because I want a better Galaxy. Turns out I was the only Jedi who wasn't full of s***. But now they're dead, and I'm not.

Do you have anything more to add?"

Vulc shook his head, and used the excuse to walk away before he lost more face with what was supposed to be his bodyguard. When the door shut behind him, Reflet took out some of her rage by throwing her Vibroblade at the wall. So much pent up anger was not good; the last thing she wanted was to let her emotions overtake her and do something stupid. That's how you became a sith.

With a remorseful sigh afterwards, the ravenette went back in her sitting position, and attempted to communicate with the Force at large again. She wasn't expecting to get a different response from before, but mediation did have a calming effect to cleanse her mind...
 
Also Tyo could I swap my wookie commando's flamethrower for a bowcaster? Ethnic weapon etc.
 
Great stories you guys!

Sure Grandkhan, I suppose that makes sense.
 
Thomas, Mech, and Et Absoluti, I just need factional alignment from you three for your signups to be 100% finished.

Everblack, I need one more party member and the factional alignment from you as well.

Note that you do not need to spend alignment points at all, but I would like you to make a note of that in your respective applications so I'm sure not to make a mistake in organizing your party stats.
 
yeah, signups will always be open. Til i feel overworked anyways.
 
Back
Top Bottom