Star Wars: Fate of the Old Republic

A letter to home
by Darbie

Dear Mom & Dad
I know I cant send this right now, due to the mission I’m presently on, but I didn’t go rogue from the Republic, and neither did Cal. I’d hope that you know that it would have to be really important for us to even let something like this get out. I hope your not disappointed.

Perhaps its my upbringing, but I’ve come to understand that I may be a bit naive when it comes to the underworld. Crime lords are… bad people, and I really shouldn’t listen to them, but damn do they offer some good credits. I did some… potentially bad things, but… I hope to rectify them in the near future.

Oh, I met the prettiest thing I ever did see. Her curves are splendid, and she packs a mean punch. She’s got her issues, nothin I can’t handle though. Damn is she pretty… its too bad shes on her last legs. I feel like we’re going to have to strip her and sell her off… piece by piece (I think we can get more credits for her that way)

I hope you don’t mind the shortness of this letter, but I gotta go! Things to do and the like. I hope I can send this soon!


the sky is falling

Koth fre’lan
location: ship board
ship name : The Bad Hat

I gripped the the railing hard as the ship started to shudder. We just jumped to light speed but that wasn’t going to last, we had been hit hard getting through the blockade force and we barely even jumped in the first place. As soon as stars started streaming by, Brel our rodian captain, turned to me and said “get to the back our antenna is down and our engine is shot to shit. If Garto doesn’t get one working were fucked, go help.” I wasted no time with saluting or any of the crap you might see on an imperial ship and glided past the captain. There was no gravity as I slid back towards my favorite wrench turner’s lair and from the smell of ozone and smoke we were gonna be lucky to be alive after this one. Small things like republic troops wanting to kill us, planetary defense forces wanting to kill us, shipboard explosions wanting to kill us or hell even the inertial dampeners failing could kill the hell out of us, I can see why many a spacer prays alot.

I got to the door to the engine room and had to practically beat the controls with my datapad to open the door. Without even taking a wiff I knew things were bad and put on my breathing mask. Half the engine room was blackened wires and broken displays. I tried to go in and heard Garto yell “whoever was stupid enough to override the door get the fuck out. The engine is pumping radiation so if you come in you’ll be pissing green in five.” “I can help” I yelled back. Sounding like a fish trying to breathe air Garto wheezed back “I said fuck off to your help. Tell the captain he’s gonna get one crash outta the engines and then me the engines and anyone else in here are gonna take a permanent vacation. Close the door on your way out and break the panel.” “goodbye Garto” I closed the door and smashed the panel.

I floated to a comm panel flicking it on and grabbing a handhold to stay near. “Captain, the engines are fucked I suggest we jettison cargo while dropping out of lightspeed and hope it hits the planet and not us. If we try to land we are not gonna have time to get permission and Garto and the engines will be dead before we do anyway.”

“The hutt’s own whats in our bay Koth we drop it we will likely find ourselves in a pit fighter arena if they are feeling generous and don’t torture us to death. We are gonna try to land if all we have to land with is your good name and a cup I pee’d in.” came the captains static filled response.

" Your shitting me! Did you do a couple of lines of spice? Fuck!! are we hauling spice??? Nevermind I don’t really want to know. I am gonna crawl to the transmitters manual access and try to bull shit our way in. Oh, is anyone running a pool on us living through this one?"

“Hic’cyria says she will give you 5 to one odds that we are fucked.”

“HA, I’ll take that bet if she promises not to crash us on purpose just to win”

I let go of the com switch and floated through ducts and back sections to a worn access panel. I opened it and crawled in letting it close behind me so I would have something to lean against as I plugged my datapad in. I smiled as the pad lit up and brought up the communications display. I ran a program I had used in the past that made my transmission choppy like our dish was broken and started issuing a mayday for a private shuttle that belonged to a naboo politician, dam that data was a good buy. “Defense net, please respond” The ship slammed out of hyperspace and even hitting my head on the bulkhead I could feel we drifted for a bit before the engines kicked in.
Taris defense net please stop and prepare for clearance before approaching.
" Taris defense net this is the golden pheasant ship ident , press button for convenient static burst, we have been attacked by pirates the ambassador is injured please do not fire. Our engines are failing and we cannot decelerate please do not fire. I punched up a schematic of the planet and fed a fake trajectory that would lead any search party the wrong direction for an hour or two and the hit the scramble button.

Golden Pheasant, we cannot confirm ship identity please halt or we will fire.

“Are you a NERF HERDER trying to cause an international incident?! we…are…CRASHING!!! I am sending you the trajectory as best our computer can spit out but our antenna was hit. Again please do not fire we are the , press button more time to fill the connection with static and cross fingers to hope that this guy is a moron.”

“we are releasing rescue teams good luck Golden Pheasant the ambassador will recieve all the help he can get once your on the ground.”

I started up the program to contact our contact on the ground and thats when things got really fun. With a lurch the ship buckled from the approaching atmosphere just after I had told the datapad to open transmission with our contact. I could hear the metal wrench as our dish broke away cancelling anything else I could. The following explosion hurt like hell and I passed out.

When I awoke I could see one of the nastiest things sniffing a pool of blood below me. It made a strange noise and looked up. I stared back at it glossy eyed and hoped it didn’t like to eat things that were already dead. It started to sniff closer, the thing smelled horrible. “HA HA well fuck all. I lived! I LIVED!!” I continued playing dead as the thing snapped its head toward the engine room’s direction. Garto bellowed like a moron some more and it lumbered off another one right behind it. I don’t think anyone ever gets used to someone they know screaming to death. I crawled out slowly nursing my stomach, checked my pistols and headed away from the crunching towards what looked like daylight. I crawled out of the rubble breathed the free air, saw a city in the distance smiled and though I just might live through this.

Rifle butts hurt when they hit the back of your head, but at least the unconscious part is fairly painless.

Hunting log: Rakghoul
Jevic Brand

Hunting log:

Creature: Rakghoul
Location: Taris
Organization: Groups of 2-3 from our encounters.
Intellect: Appear mindless.
Perception: They appear to hunt via sound over sight.
Qualities: Bite that spreads a virus that turns you into a Rakghoul.
Threat Level: Severe if unprepared, minor if prepared.

We entered the lowest levels to hunt Rakghoul for the 200-credit bounty on each of them. Several things became apparent in our first encounter. First they appeared mindless charging at us when they detected us with no use of tactics. Second their bite has an almost 100% rate of infection, Rathe being bit in the first fight. Third the serum is not a 100% successful treatment. Each person bitten needed two doses’ to recover. Fighting our way in we brought back the thumbs of 10 of them and we went in maybe 30 meters from the gate. With two members of the party bitten the hunt was called off early.

I feel that with adequate preparation, a series of barricades could be set up to limit the directions and mobility of the Rakghoul allowing for a greater number of them to be engaged and defeated increasing the profit in hunting them. A sound system could probably be set up to bait them out.

The only danger from them is their bite; the mindlessness of them makes hunting them a simple task once you know what they will do and you prepare for it. It would be interesting to hunt some of them to see if they are all mindless or if there are some with intellect.

Things learned:

The “protocol droid” and I use that term loosely since he may be outfitted for protocol but that is just a good cover turned out to exceed my expectations of his combat skills.

The group seems to be willing to trust people easily. We encountered a Zeltron dragging a Bothan that turned out to be an acquaintance of Csillo Ark’s. Oddly enough he is also in debt to Mesta the Hutt. Eve, the Zeltron is now our manager for the transport job we have taken.

Something so simple as being polite and saying thank you can change someone’s disposition to you faster than hours of talking.

Fallout and Boon
Csillo Ark

From the computer records of datapad YT7-09A-Y, owner Csillo Ark, time stamp XX-YY-ZZ
(just after the meeting with the wookie)
/begin coded access

Login ****************
Code ***************

>Updating system information…. Good afternoon Mr. Ark, all systems updated and secure connection to Holonet, encryption code AF9IU0, established.

>14 New Messages… accessing
Account Disabled from Unicorp Banking, Bessimir
Account Disabled from Froz University Library, Froz
Rogue? What happened man? From Chiloe Zari’tel
Account Disabled from Antar Commercial Banking, Antar
• RE: Stajin Ark Contract from Tausk
Account Disabled from Unicorp Banking, Coruscant
Account Disabled from Cora Shipping Company

/load message from Tausk

>Loading message from Tausk
Mr. Csillo Ark, as per our contract with your father, Stajin Ark, his investment account has been reactivated and access has been transferred to you. This account has a structured settlement and 15,000 credits have been made available. As the account continues to mature you can expect a much higher return. Your first payment has already been authorized and can be transferred, see attached security protocol. Additional information on how to contact us is also included in the security protocol.
Good day

>End of message, security protocol and encryption is attached.

>Activating protocol ERROR: Data Corruption 87%, irretrievable

>Confirmation, 15,000 credits have been transferred to cred-stik **********.

/search Holonet- Taris- medical supplies- Meeble

… 15 minutes later …
>Purchase confirmation, supplies will be held for 48 hours.

Jevic Brand

Today we ruined the life of a Twi’lek. This event has led me to make the choice to keep a record of the jobs and events that happen in my life so that I may reflect on the choices I make. To pay to repair the ship and finish our mission we took the first job we could find. A crime boss named Mr. Fetch, offered us the first in a series of jobs. It was a simple job to get his brother to agree to accept his offer of protection, we later found out protection from hutt. In doing the job we did nothing less than ruin his life all for 750 credits. This did not sit well with the republic boys and the jedi. When I think about it I don’t like the choice I made, there was no honor in ruining him when nothing worthwhile was gained, if anything we took a step back from our goal since we have to pay off an inconvenience fee. It was a very interesting lesson in how the hutt syndicates do business; at the end of the day they will make a profit.

With my choice to be a mercenary and bounty hunter I accept that I may work with the criminal aspect but I think that I will avoid the hutt side of it. It feels like they pull you in and then warp you to fit their goals, discarding you when you have no more profit left for them.

I think that while I work for the republic I will need to make an effort to keep to their code and rules as much as I can while still being true to my beliefs.

Time to try some more honest work as they call it. Its rakghoul hunting time.

The Ride Back
Rathe Warslide - NPC

There is no emotion, there is peace.

My heart felt as if it were in a vice as I saw Republic soldiers resort to thuggery. How far were they willing to go to maintain the cover of their assignment? The Mandalorian didn’t seem as if he cared, but wasn’t that to be expected? Mandalorians are known to care only of battle and their clans. Is that what this assignment was to him? A vehicle for his next battle?

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

My companions knew that this assignment was wrong when they took it. I understand that the Rakghoul serum is important if we wish to hunt them for Taris, but why take a job in which we would hurt a citizen of Taris? We could have worked on the docks. We could have done a myriad of other things, but why take a job to confront somebody? Aggression leads to anger and anger leads to fighting. Were they really so surprised when a firefight broke out?

There is no passion, there is serenity.

My heart pounded as I watched these men shoot up an honest businessman’s shop. I felt moved and it took every every breathing technique I knew to clear my mind and let serenity wash over me. I could have easily slashed the lock to enter the storefront. My lightsaber would have made quick work of the durasteel mechanism. Yes, I would have added to the damage toll, but I could have prevented more. My only fear was that by reacting to the anger inside of me, I would have fueled the flames.

I wish I could say that this was the first time in my life that I felt lost. It has been some time since I have felt comfortable turning to Master Drakfist for guidance. I wish I could say that my instincts misguidedly wanted to turn to him even now. Sadly, this is not true. I sensed a change in my master and I was blind to the extent of it. Master Drakfist has turned to the Sith and it is my fault. I could have saved him.

When I look at my companions, I see many flaws. Yet, as much as I am repulsed by their recent actions, it pales into comparison of my own transgressions. Master Drakfist was as much my responsibility as I was his. I know what he is capable of, and I can only imagine what those capabilities will be with the destructive power of the Darkside.

Their actions were horrible, but they pale in comparison with my own.

A New Direction
Cleon- "Csillo Ark"

I sat quietly in the taxi as we made our way back to “The Incognito.” They were brooding; the padawan was visibly upset, although he did a good job of managing his anger and resentment. I was numb. I had been for several years. I knew what they were planning to do and I didn’t stop them. Why didn’t I? Was I truly willing to see an innocent, honest and brave man break down and succumb to the pressures of a criminal; a life of indentured slavery? I guess I was.

He had a bracelet very similar to the one my mother possessed, destroyed with her 5 years ago; I took it. She was always a bright star to me, full of joy and mischief. She was kind but lived by a different code than most of the galaxy, she was always true to her word though. Very much like the bracelet, with its Gungan pearls that possessed shifting and swirling colors of blue, green, silver and purple, and yet held together by strong and soft metal. My mother used to say that possessions are useless unless you are willing to protect them. She was a burglar, before she met my dad. We didn’t really own much and weren’t materialistic, for my mom she said it was more of a challenge thing than possessing the stolen item. Dad said she was talented but once she hooked up with him, that part of her life was left behind.

The bracelet was in my hand, I could feel the smooth pearls beneath my fingers. I could see her. Her long silver mane, braded and studded with beads, clothed in a simple grey dress, singing softly while I laid my head in her lap, gazing up at the stars. It was clear night on Alderaan. “You know the people of Alderaan are very much like us. They value knowledge, peace and freedom. Always remember that Csillo; we Ryn are never homeless as long as we have our freedom. It is what defines us as a people. Sometimes we may become adrift, but sooner or later you heart will show you the way.”

The taxi came to a stop and every solemnly exited the speeder. I looked up and I could see the towering city around us, the lights of the upper levels and the speeders twinkling like stars. For the first time in many years I felt something; guilt and shame. The bracelet in my hand became cold and I knew that I was adrift no longer.

Rathe Warslide - NPC

Fall of coruscant small

Thunder boomed in the distance.


A sleepy Rathe Warslide opened his young, light gray eyes. A storm really had to rage for him to hear it through the thick steel walls of the satellite Jedi Temple of Coruscant. It was especially odd for the thunder to be powerful enough to make the furniture rattle.


Suddenly, a sorrowful feeling washed over him. The small hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his breath deserted him. His heart felt as if it was suddenly crushed and inflated, and deep inside, Rathe knew… thousands of lives were suddenly lost.


By the third bellow of thunder, Rathe was on his feet. He had fallen asleep in a meditation chamber, and usually he would worry about a scolding from Master J’on, but he knew that there were more important matters at hand. He moved to the door and punched the OPEN sequence on the small computer to his right. The thick steel doors slid open and allowed a cacophony of sounds to rush into the chamber.

“Evacuate the second-year younglings on the 187th floor! Pull back from the roof, that fight is lost!”

Rathe couldn’t tell who was yelling, but he saw a least two dozen jedi running about. Fires marred the formerly pristine blue-gray floors.


“It’s not thunder”, Rathe whispered, his eyes wide. His heart fell to his stomach as he realized that his sector of Coruscant was being shelled by artillery. The walls shook as alarms blared. He watched a large slab of metal, shorn free from the ceiling with immense force, crush three jedi.

“Rathe!”, he heard a voice calling in the distance. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but he recognized the voice of his master. The young padawan wheeled around to see his master round the corner of a corridor. Rathe saw the look of relief wash over his J’on Drakfist’s face.

“Rathe! Thank the Force you’re all right. We have to get to the ground level! Follow me, young one.” J’on’s eyes were warm and he was cool-headed, despite the chaos all around. When Rathe was around his master, he felt peace wash over him. The world could be colliding with another and Master Drakfist would keep him with a level head.

The two jedi sprinted down a hallway and Rathe realized that they were passing by the lifts. “Master?”

“The lifts are too dangerous! To that window!”

The jedi rushed to the transparisteel window and J’on plunged his saber into the transparent metal. Rathe followed suit and soon the two of them were each cutting half of a slab out of it. As their lightsabers neared each other, J’on panted, “Okay, Rathe. Clear the way!”

The padawan glanced over to his master. J’on often gave him challenges, even in dire situations. Any chance to blast objects with the Force was a welcome one for the padawan. He took in a deep breath and focused himself. Then he collected the energy of the world around and coalesced it in his hand. He knew as he felt the tug in the pit of his stomach how easy it would be to let his emotion empower his action. If he gave in to the frantic panic around him, he could easily push away the severed transparisteel. But such emotion-guided actions were not the jedi way. Emotion guided use of the force paves the away for seduction to the Dark Side. He exhaled and pushed, reaching out with the force. He heard the screech of the metal as the cut section was thrown out into the lower city below.

After a moment of satisfaction, Rathe hoped that the section of transparent metal would not hurt anybody below. But as he looked out upon Coruscant, finally looking beyond the window, he saw that millions would be hurt this day. War had come to them and their enemy, the Sith, had brought the fight to their home.

“Come, padawan”, J’on nodded toward the opening. “Master, I’m… I’m scared.” “Rathe, you must not let these emotions guide you. There is no emotion. There is only peace.”

Rathe looked down and saw the ledges that he assumed his master meant for them to leap down to, one by one. “But what if I fall?”, the padawan asked, looking to his J’on’s eyes.

The jedi master smiled reassuringly and clapped a hand on his student’s shoulder. “Then I will catch you.” Master Drakfist leaped out the window, leaving an astonished Rathe behind.


Rathe sat up in the rack of the Lightbringer, his chest heaving, sweat covering his body. It had been five years since that day on Coruscant and yet the dreams were still so vivid. He swung his legs over the edge of the gunship’s cot and his head throbbed. He didn’t know how long he had been out, but he felt malice just before his ship exploded. He barely had time to eject.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and collect his thoughts. Was Master Drakfist the one firing the turret? Why had he felt the Dark Side so near? “Master”, he whispered and frowned. “Master.”

Darbie Hayes - Training
Darbie Hayes - Brian Fuhrman

“Damnit Darbie! How the hell can you clip me!? What was that?! Are you trying to kill me!?” Mason, a midshipman just like Darbie, says as he throws down his flight helmet onto the ground. “This is a flippin TRAINING exercise, you DOLT!”

Darbie chuckles as he begins walking to the lockers, Mason in tow. “Hey, you’re alive right? You lost, but you’re alive. Consider it a learning experience, now you know what to do!”

“Learning experience?!” Mason says angrily, as spit flies from his mouth “Sure, I’ll learn that I NEVER WANT TO FLY AGAINST YOU!”

“Leasson learned then.” Darbie says as he stifles a laugh as he opens his locker to put away the flight suit and don his uniform. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know it was going to work either, just sounded like a good idea. Besides, its not like I cracked the hull or anything.”


“Well…” Darbie ponders for a moment “Consider it cross training then! Now you can go to the Mechanic Bay and actually learn how a ship works, give you more respect for it!”

“Respect?! Why you piece of Bantha PooDoo, Im going to RIP YOUR H…” Mason starts yelling as he’s interrupted by a man of medium stature and light frame wearing Leuitenant tags.

“Midshipman Hayes, get your ASS to the Flight Commanders office, NOW” he says furiously “I assume he wants to talk about your little adventure up there and WHY YOUR WRECKING REPUBLIC PROPERTY!!”

Darbies’ smile fades, and quickly puts the rest of his gear in his locker, and jogs to catch up to Lt. Maxwell, the man that was just yelling at him. When he catches up, he hears everything he expects.
“What the hell we’re you THINKING? This isn’t your playground!”
“Are you trying to kill yourself? Or perhaps your squadmate? Did he piss you off?!”
“Maybe you’re a plant by the empire, JUST TO PISS ME OFF!”

Darbies head swims, he knows he’s pissed off Lt. Maxwell more times than he can count, but did he really step over the line this time?
The Lieutenant knocks on the Flight Commanders office door as he mutters to himself.

“Enter” a voice says calmly from the other side of the closed door.
As they both enter, the Flight Commander pours over two open files. “Midshipman Hayes, in front of me are two files, one… is your achievements, and the other, your write ups. It seems you have a serious reckless issue here. You pull stunts, not authorized by the Navy, you consistently put yourself in danger, you effectively ruin your competitors equipment, and you fight dirty in the air.”

Lt. Maxwell smugly grins, knowing what’s going to come next.

“That’s why I’ve decided to reassign you Delta Base on a special mission” The Flight Commander says, while digging in his top drawer, then tossing an ensign bar to Darbie. “You are to report to Delta Base, your ship leaves in an hour.”

Lt. Maxwell looks as if he’s about to cry, he shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

The Fleet Commander continues, “Congratulation Ensign Hayes, don’t screw it up”

Jevic Brand

I was five years old when I picked up my first weapon. My father took me outside after breakfast to a group of targets that he had set up. He handed me a blaster pistol and told me that its time I started learning to fight. There were five targets, each with a number on it, spread out in front of us. He told me that he would call out a number and I would shoot it. “Target one” he said, I pointed the pistol at it and fired, missing. “Again” he stated, I fired and missed. “Again” he stated, I aimed carefully and missed again. “Again he stated. I kept firing and after each shot he said again, I couldn’t hit the target, every shot seemed to go differently, some left some right I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong. It always seemed so easy when I saw people training, point it at the target and pull the trigger. After what seemed to be an eternity of the word again I pulled the trigger and heard a click. The power cell had run out.

He walked over slowly and took the pistol from me. He could see the disappointment in my face. Looking me in my eyes he asked, “what did you learn”? I wasn’t sure what to say, I had missed every shot he had to be disappointed in me. “I need to practice more so that I can hit the target” I tentatively asked. Shacking his head he said “no, the lesson was that you need to start thinking for yourself, I handed you a pistol and you have never picked one up or fired one, you don’t know how to fire one.” He paused for a minute before continuing “You should have asked me to show you how to fire it, there is no shame in learning how to do something you have never done before, everyone needs to strive to learn and better themselves in all that they do.”

“Now let me show you how to fire a pistol” he said as he slid a new power pack into the handle.


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