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Dai
Jun 25th, 2011, 02:08:55 PM
2 Years and 1 months A.E


IMPERIAL CENTER, Coruscant – Some 600 young recruit, officers and from 68 sectors met at the University of Coruscant last week with a grandiose goal: to establish “a comprehensive program for radical SAGEducation (SAGEd) reform.” Composed mainly of COMPNOR activist, old and new, the “New Education Conference” was infected with what one of its organizers called “the rampant disease of individualism.” Nevertheless, the individualist agreed enough to set up committees to open a galactic office and start drastic movements toward the new academies in the Auril & Esstran Sector.


The conference was the last example of cascading cry within COMPNOR that big universities have lost their critical function, expansion of Government, business and military research. The dissidents are especially concerned that values inherent in the humanities are not being applied to real-life problems. A university agrees University of Coruscant Sociologist Jarrod Gus, one of the conference organizers, must not be “just a service station for the establishment, but a place where the people can work for the disposed, the poor, and those out of power.”


Voo Juń Scholarship. A basic manifesto for the movement is a collection of essays, coined by the Corellian hero and former actor Dai Voo Juń, edited by Historian Odin Rosh of Corellia University at Theed University. In the lead essay, Rosh contend that SAGroup members, cultivated by the COMPNOR’s rising affluence and grants, can let their research and teaching lead them into ideals of society. They gain professional esteem from lively teaching, finding joy in pursuing a social cause, maintaining loyalty to the New Order in spite of the tumultuous times. Their aim is not to score points within departments, but to give where needed. “Professional politicking and scholarly publication are all that academic success requires,” claims Rosh.


Rosh notes that reporters rarely found anything newsworthy at previous university conferences of such groups as they would with the Commission for Preservation of the New Order’s organizers. The meetings, he says, have “no more socially significant purposes in mind than an assembly of plumbers or hotel managers.” Today’s academic, he notes, take a “strange kind of pride in recognizing a problem, but not solving it.”


The solution concluded by the conference was Dai Voo Juń. His recently awarded acts of heroism in the name of COMPNOR and the New Order have garnered the attention needed for change. As one of the many young recruits at the conference, he confirmed his date for shipment to the new institutes, “I’m no different than anyone else here. I’ll be a student. I’ll learn. We all agree on at least one thing. Large leaps of faith are the only way we can get over the hump of these times, and this is a particularly grand, unique, and cool leap of faith.”


Unique is very much the key word. Objectives for the new academies are to develop the promise the former actor has shown as an officer in fields that exceed physical demand. The institutes pledge to provide great minds throughout the known and unknown space, with exceptional programs that venture in science and technology. Thus far, the campaign suggests that traditional education have quite a bit to learn from the SAGEducation.


----


3 Years AE


Tomorrow Comes Today


Every night for a month Dai watched acid melt the heavens. For hours he sat silently in front of a large window slumped in an armchair amid darkness. Outside the chamber doors guards whispered. He wanted to hear them. However, the drone of IHV gladly prevented that. He didn’t care to listen to that: Ashii Nermani was doing a piece on the Rebellion’s involvement in Outer Rim spice smuggling. Neutron Pixie was sprinkled along his bed. Some was on his lips. On the nightstand shined something metallic: his trophy. He could still see the gleam off to the side in the dark. He glanced over absently. Then, he looked back at the scenery, his mind on the trophy. No bloodstains. He had wiped them clean. All that remained was the weapon he’d use again and again. The singe of burnt flesh and spent cartridges still torched his nose. So with a heavy sigh smoke billowed from his mouth, the cigarra tucked between his fingers. Often the taste would warm his chest, but on this night he was too cold, too distant, and alone, with wet eyes that tried to recant the tragedy. They couldn’t. Those eyes of his twinkled with the horrid reflection of green, flaming drops from Vjun’s clouds, but he could still only see the trophy and how it had damned him to sleepless nights.

Olivia called the thing a lightsaber. He didn’t call it anything. The saber’s blade had ripped through flesh, blast doors and taken more lives than the original owner ever intended. Olivia said the original owner was a terrorist. She called the terrorist Obi-Wan or Ben Kenobi; Dai found the name interesting. He did some research. Public records classified him as a fugitive. Private records described him as a Clone War veteran; a fallen hero – a Jedi. Dai hadn’t killed one yet. But he was sure the assignment would come eventually. And so would the awards.

Since the Annual CorSec Awards Ball Dai was bestowed more treasures. Scripts sprawled over the bed. His comm. log was filled with famous names. When he wasn’t on stage, on set, or at the institutions, he was…working. Politicians were mysteriously passing away. Drug lords were tortured. Planetary rebellions were halted. Sector revolts were sabotaged. And all was his doing.

He was an agent; the perfect spy. Who would suspect a child actor? And much less an awarded, New Order patriot and figurehead of the Sub-Adult Group Recruitment branch. There wasn’t a chance in the seven rings of hell the two incidents could be related.

There were too many faces involved in hiding it.

COMPNOR commercials ran daily of him. Posters were plastered with his face. Holo-feeds ran with his sponsorship through Core worlds. Dai had reclaimed fame at the New Order’s design; a design which was a part of a larger strategy. As often was the case with the Empire. These plans weren’t fully divulged to any one person. Only chunks were left to the agents in the operation. Even Olivia hadn’t grasped the full scope of the project. The only certainty was Dai was staffed as the main role in the Project Harbinger.

A certainty Dai had come to live with.

He blinked. Slowly. Then let out a sigh with a single word under his breath.

“Frack…”

This was going to be another long day.

Dai
Jul 19th, 2012, 06:12:31 PM
3 Years and 2 months AE


The planet was cold and mountainous, overcome by craters, with snow falling, and one moon to occupy the nightfall. In the sky soared two Imperial shuttles, missing their large secure doors. Two dozen young students – evenly separated by shuttles - with parachute packs fit to their back awaited the countdown. They stood in formation at the missing doors. Most were stoic, but one smirked.

Dai Von Junn was eager to explore Khar Delba.

A growl echoed through the tundra below. The scouts clutched their blaster rifles. They exchanged looks, glanced down and fidgeted. A student next to Dai was more unquiet than the others. Victoria Remos' stomach grumbled: indigestion. The mix of hotcakes and galma didn’t agree with her digestive tract. The meal agreed with Dai – he burped and grinned. Before takeoff the two ate. They debated bands, personal space, cybernetics, and then alien cuisine; Rodian fruit was the subject – specifically galma – smelling of sweaty bantha and red skinned. Not appetizing, but Dai goaded. And she devoured. Then, she vomited. And he laughed. They’d laugh about it later.

Hopefully.

Another roar alerted the scouts. The scouts shuffled once more. Flyboy Uri Gil turned his head about to the troops. He smiled. The team was familiar with this smile; mustached and rotten teethed – they were seconds from deployment and possible disaster. Uri piloted the campaigns on Ziost, Bosthirda and Korriban. He knew danger. Before employment with the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order (COMPNOR) he tested the original TIE defenders, interceptors and scouts until reassignment in the Outer Rim Territories. Gray haired, Uncle Uri – a nickname bestowed on him by his common passengers - kidded he was only kept on staff because a bribe to quiet his stories of starfighters glitches. Dai appreciated his affability. All the students did. But none were keen on the countdowns.

“Get ready boys ‘n girls,” Uri keyed the control panel. An automated voice buzzed. The squad focused.

“1…“ The squad clenched

“2…“ The squad crouched.


“3…“ The squad jumped.

One-by-one they leapt. Will first. Son of the famed scout Law Husse, an esteemed Outer Rim Oreworks employee, he was bred to be lead skydiver. Once upon a time he even wanted to join the family business with an interest in Galactic Outdoor Survival School. However, an untimely death diverted his attention to the Empire. And the Empire put him 3,000 meters above a world to free-fall. The New Order was always tender with their blue-eyed prospects. Will had the love bites to show it. Particularly a seven-inch scar which ran down his forearm. The cause? A preventive measure against a Tuk'ata on Korriban; Dai was targeted – Will defended. Both lived. The Tuk’ata didn’t. This triumph allowed them a smile as they look to their icy grave.

Will flipped out the aircraft with a gust. His heart-rate doubled. His body did too – mid-air gymnastics. Positioning was key; he was attempting a plank. The adrenaline rushed blood to his skull. His face went red, and grinned. His body was at ease. Each muscle relaxed. Each breath unpolluted. But at 140 kilometers per hour, he felt nothing. He just fell. Calm, composed, the clouds veiled him. The distant dots were coming closer. And closer. They were ancient craters, better known to the troops as secure drop-zones. Will yanked and deployed. The canopy blasted from his pack. Harsh winds rushed through. He jolted aback. Blasters holstered, he began to toggle steering lines for landing. Dai watched.

He was next. “Skydiving – the things bored people do.”

Dai shook his head and crouched. Then, pounced into the sky. The winds resisted and flapped his clothes like a flag. Dai tore through the high altitudes; the air pressure crackled in his ears. Debris flew. Snow blew. And Dai dove, then tugged. His pack exploded. Cords to fabric surged into the breeze. He jerked. He toggled and sailed.

Before ten blinks he felt ice.

Before parachute removal he heard screams under more roars. “…the behemoths.”

Dai
Jul 25th, 2012, 04:14:57 PM
The mammoth clomped. Each step nearer. Dai snarled. The trodden echoes quaked the ground. Dai would not move. At the pit crater's base he stood: ready stance. Feet shoulder length apart for balance and mobility. Back & knees bent forth to lunge. Fists loosen to clutch. And forehead sweat dripped to cool. A horned shadow approached the pit – stench in company. It drew closer. Long tusk cast shadow on the deep crater. Slobber slopped from its mouth. Under its darkness Dai gazed.

The beast was one of dozens of different creatures which were used to augment the battle legions of ancient Sith. Notable for being amongst the most impressive of these animals and massive creatures used to transport troops, carry heavy weapons and break through fortification. The Sith War Behemoth were the tanks of modern armies. The gargantuan quadruped stood 15 meters tall with a weight of 10,000 kg. Horns frilled skulls. Curved tusk caged beaks. And a body shelled and furred; freaks of alchemy, turned into omnivores.

The beast belched. Half a M5 blaster rifle dropped from its teeth. The blaster was issued to Uri’s niece. She was one of the first 100 program initiates. Promotion to the Harbinger (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=21048) campaign within ranks signified honors. Her dedication to education in archaeological excavation, geology and experience in reconnaissance in her youth made her an obvious candidate. However, the cavalry would not address her by given name; called X-O, the mapmaker, by them. Before every mission she planned, delineated, in ordain detail, travel routes for the best quarry. The briefs were arranged by historical geological research. Most her evenings were lost reading classified data. Operations always involved a deployment of excavation probe droids. And she was always ready. Somewhere, she likely had plotted a map point for her tombstone. It would read:


Sirena Gil
Don’t don’t dig me up
X-O


Behemoths don’t have epitaphs.

Dai smirked. Dual DC-17 hand blasters (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/DC-17_hand_blaster) holstered at his waist. His knees bent more. The beast growled - its eyes on Dai. Above, parachute packs burst. Below, the crater’s ice crackled. The crackle signaled Dai’s pounce. In a blur the blasters were palmed - fingers at the trigger. Arms extended and legs quick to sweep; he blasted! Between the tusk the blasted blue bolts hit. The beast’s peak singed as it wailed. He fired more. Dashing left up the crater pit's wall. Agility wasn’t a 10,000 kg animal’s strong suit. The weakness was obvious. He had to exploit it.

Clamoring, the behemoth stomped at Dai. But he was fast. As the grounds shook with the creature’s steps, Dai fired with his waist turned and feet racing away. The scamper and blast tactic agitated the beast, but until Dai reached another pit it was all he could do.

Guerilla tactics were a no go. He had to use the crater ridden landscape to his advantage.

Dai
Sep 16th, 2012, 04:23:35 PM
Dai jumped into the crater – into the darkness. The wind flapped his jumpsuit. The cold cut through. His balls shriveled. And, when his feet hit the crater grounds, he hunched and shriveled. The clomp of coming danger was at his rear. He had to act. Dai clutched the blaster. Then, he turned. In the shaded crater, he gawked. He pointed the blaster high. His index yanked the trigger. A bolt went skyward. The behemoth looked up.

Distraction.

An opening.

The blaster was holstered. He scaled the crater wall. He galloped. At the edge, he leaped. Arms extended like wings. He soared. An invisible string pulled the hilt from his belt to his hand. In his clutches, the blade hissed alive. Ignited & blue, he landed at the behemoth’s hooves in ready stance. Dai swung with might.

The behemoth’s lungs rattled, voice box vibrated, and the ground shook to it’s roar. Flesh had ripped. Veins ruptured. Muscles charred. The smell of smoked skin wrinkled Dai’s nose and he snarled. He swung again. It roared again. Bone was lost this time.

The behemoth crumpled.

Down went his mass. Up went the debris. Dai stepped aside and back. The swarm of snow swirled about him. He kept his stare. He glared at the beast's eyes. Even as it fell. They were brown. The former war beast's breath smelled like shit. On it's side, gasps lifted it's belly. Only for exasperation to deflate it. Dai leaned against the removed hoove. His handiwork.

Dai twirled the hilt, pressed the weapon's button. Then, latched it back at his belt. And, turned about, walking away.

The mission had just begun.

Dai
Sep 22nd, 2013, 01:30:32 PM
Khar Delba was cold.

Hours had passed.

Many behemoths had fallen. Lead by Dai, the squad trotted in line followed by a trail of fallen beast. Exhausted huffs escaped their soldier’s masked faces and puffed out like cigarra smoke. Dai’s holstered hilt tied at his waist bounced against his thigh at each step. He powered through the tundra and up the hills. At the tip, he halted. His hand lifted warding the rest. A harmonious stopped stomp sung behind him; beautiful teamwork – they had found their place amidst the Harbinger program. And, they had also found their objective; Sirena Gil had done good. Victoria scampered up the line. Stopped at Dai’s side, the two looked over the hill.

A shrine of a mutant faced human male head the size of the dead beast glared back. It showed age. Snow dripped from the statue’s petit goatee. Strange tendrils drooped from the sides of the man’s face. Dai had never seen anything so human but deformed in person – it was almost monstrous. Despite the non-human features, the face remained handsome and sleek. The immortalized face had devilish eyes and a hat increst with a familiar symbol.

He was Sith.

The rest of the squad had no idea. Dai had studied. He was forced to. Olivia constantly sent datafeeds. Exclusive information trafficked through secured lines, imported from previously excavated fields in the former Sith Empire’s region and unusual planets. Even Druckenwell had remnants of the lost Empire’s reign to extract data from and Dai was made to be an expert. He even knew who this man was, in spite the aged stone and crude interpretation: Naga Shadow.
Darth Naga Shadow to those whom honored his prowess. Over 4 thousand years had elapsed since the Sith hybrid walked the same plane as the troops, but still they stood in awe. As they gathered at the hills foot, they marveled at Naga’s creation. The citadel wasn’t enormous, but longstanding. Few had ventured as far as Khar Delba, nor explored the lands, but still remained this battered grounds once invaded and bombarded in wars forgotten. There was history on the streets and Dai’s team was meant to return it’s glory.

It was the Harbinger’s job.

“Move out,” he ordered, and stepped forward.