NationStates Jolt Archive

Here is Taylor Masaki:
He is the Order's best pyrokinetic Jedi Knight. The blond, braided young man in a red cloak and black clothing hates being called 'Short' or any synonyms, is a Form V user, and is the hotheaded half of the Masaki Twins. He often wears ignition gloves, allowing him to create bombs on demand with but a snap of his fingers, one of his favorite fire techniques.

And here is Jacob Masaki:
An alchemist by nature, Jacob is cooler-headed than his twin brother, slightly taller and his dirty-blond hair parts to his right. His lightsaber style is more defensive, utilizing Form III, and his fashion sense favors a navy blue cloak with his usual open collared-shirt, blue T-shirt and khaki cargoes underneath. His alchemic powers are conjured by clasping his hands together in concentration, then he slams one or both hands on a wall or the ground, forming whatever he desires within reason. It seems like magic to the uneducated, but it's really alchemy, or as he likes to put it, 'Force Chemistry'.

Today, the Twins have an important mission, one that will require the both of them to complete. They stand before the High Council to retrieve the assignment.

"Our spies in the Empire have indicated that there is a new superweapon in the making." Grandfather Masaki began. "Your task, then is to search it out, and if possible, destroy it. I recommend you start with Corellia, as the rumors have indicated that the superweapon could be there."

"Yes, Master. Will there be anything else?" Taylor asked.

"Use one of the smaller yachts." Master Elendil suggested. "You'll blend in better playing tourist to the Corellian System. Other than that, may the Force be with you."

The twins bowed and then headed to the hangar bay, choosing a 20 meter Kuat-made family yacht, souped up by the techies, but only a very deep scan will reveal that the yacht is not a normal one.

Jacob, being the better pilot of the two took the controls as they set down and started up the ship. The yacht rose gracefully on its repulserlifts and then sped off into space. Once clear of the gravity wells, the tiny ship jumped into hyperspace.

Freely floating along the Corellian trade spine a certain clone commander was happily enjoying one of the Galaxies rarest vintages, a Telen Scotch, matured over thirteen generations. Raising his glass in thanks Sixty Six almost felt pity for the bottles former owner, but what was he supposed to do, the man just wouldn’t cooperate.

Well, that was all water under the bridge, after all, we live in interesting times. Speaking of interesting…..

Looking down at a blinking data pad, the lone clone trooper had just received a most joyous report, apparently old friends were dropping in, and the establishment has to play the gracious host. Gently tapping in the coordinates for Corellia Sixty Six would make sure he was there to greet his favourite jedi.

Corellia

Walking through the endless streets of Corellia, the good commander was having a spot of bother in finding his buddies hotel, turning a left and then a right, and another few hundred lefts he eventually found the place. “Charming” Sixty Six quipped into his helmet. Walking into the foyer the clone trooper noted the name of the premises. ”The Lions Den.” Hmmm, things were obviously looking up, since fate was dancing at the door as well as several species of insects, most of which he had never seen before, and Sixty Six had visited many Rebel infestations.

Hmmm, no one at the desk. Typical. Tapping the dust covered bell the clone trooper would make sure of cooperation. He had several methods he could use, his favourite being the unbiased inspection, that usually got him what he wanted. After a few moments of waiting a portly Xeno exited from a back room, his green skin and filthy face reminded Sixty Six of the repulsive Hutts. “I assume you are the manager?” Sixty Six asked softly. Without waiting for a response, “I would like to make a reservation for two friends who will be staying here for the next few days. You’ll know who they are, because they’re the only people interested in staying here. They’d like to take “Room Sixty Six”. I have some arrangements to make for their accommodation, so you can supply the keys to me for now.”
Sixty Six expectantly held out his hand for the key, and there was something about his posture that made the Alien manager unwilling to question the apparent stormtroopers odd mannerisms. He simply handed over the key and was done with it. “Thank You.” Sixty Six added as the objects changed hands. “I assume I go up these stairs?” The manager merely nodded in agreement.

Quickly traversing the hotels infested floor boards, the trooper gave a quick prayer of thanks to the emperor, he was sure that they were incapable of supporting his weight, but even he could be wrong from time to time. Unlocking the door Sixty Six was immediately hit by several alarms in his helmet, the room was almost toxic, what on Coruscant was in here? Opening the old fashioned glass windows for some fresh air Sixty Six decided that it would be rude not to leave a message, after all they were old pals.


Dear Taylor and Jake,

I heard you were passing through, and I thought I’d make arrangements for you. What’s one nights room rental between friends? I’ve been watching your return to public life quite closely – tell me, does it sting to feel so monitored? I have to say I’ve gotten used to it, but a new perspective can be so Refreshing. Tell me, how’s big brother doing? Tell him I said hello. We’re almost one big happy family now. Odd smell in the room you’ve chosen…. Like somethings died in it. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers.
And then we finally come down to business. It seems with the Masaki family name living on good and proud in you two, you’ll be here for an important reason. I’m not sure how much luck I should wish you, given I have to stop you, but then it would be rude of me not to.

Your Pal
Sixty Six


PS: I thought I might open the window to get rid of the Stink. See you around…
Ta-ta.
S

The twins' yacht soon reverted into realspace and descended upon the planet like a hawk-bat. They went through an irate traffic controller who gruffly gave them a destination and then the yacht touched down, as gracefully as it had taken off.

"Well, here we are, brother." Jacob grinned as he and his brother walked down the ramp and turned on the alarm ("Chirp! Chirp!") to the yacht before heading into the streets.

"Corellia's a nice place, except for the Imperial control." Taylor commented.

"Hush, we're two loyal citizens who are visiting family." Jacob said, as Taylor merely snickered.

"All right, let's look for a hotel then." For the next half-hour or so, the two young Knights looked high and low for a low-key hotel that would suit their needs for a while. They didn't expect much, but the "Lion's Den" that they chose was rather seedy. Taylor briefly contemplated just burning the bugs (and the hotel) down before they stepped inside.

Jacob rang the extremely dusty bell and a portly alien, presumably the manager, came to the front. "Hello, we'd like a room, please."

"Ah, Room sixty-six. Here's your key." The fat alien said and gave them the key.

"Thank you!" Jacob smiled, and the brothers headed up the stairs, which was sorely in need of some repair. Jacob figured he could fix it up rather easily with his powers, but then he decided to keep a low profile.

The brothers unlocked the door, and winced at the stink in the room. The window was open to let fresh air in, but the stink was still there.

"Whoof! Somebody's died in here!" Taylor waved his hand in front of his face. A small air freshener was sprayed, and the room smelt better, more of burnt wood than the banthashit odor. "Ahh, that's better."

"Gerroff." Jacob muttered to a small rat who decided to take up residence on the bed. It squeaked in outrage, but Jacob simply picked it up and tossed it out the window.

"Hey, there's a note." Taylor said, tearing a note off a mirror in the room. The twins then read the contents.

Dear Taylor and Jake,

I heard you were passing through, and I thought I’d make arrangements for you. What’s one nights room rental between friends? I’ve been watching your return to public life quite closely – tell me, does it sting to feel so monitored? I have to say I’ve gotten used to it, but a new perspective can be so Refreshing. Tell me, how’s big brother doing? Tell him I said hello. We’re almost one big happy family now. Odd smell in the room you’ve chosen…. Like somethings died in it. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers.
And then we finally come down to business. It seems with the Masaki family name living on good and proud in you two, you’ll be here for an important reason. I’m not sure how much luck I should wish you, given I have to stop you, but then it would be rude of me not to.

Your Pal
Sixty Six


PS: I thought I might open the window to get rid of the Stink. See you around…
Ta-ta.
S
"Well, isn't that nice of him." Taylor said sarcastically, crumpling the paper and burning it into ashes. "He's onto us."

Jacob smirked. "Well, brother. That's what makes the game interesting. They won't send their best soldiers if there was nothing at Corellia."

Taylor grinned as well. "You're right. The game really is afoot today."

“Ahh here they come.” Sixty Six mused as he watched from a nearby building. Thanks to his white and black armour the clone trooper was effectively invisible against the setting sun. Dusk had arrived, which was the troopers favourite time for hunting. Dusk is when the human eyesight is at its worst, when the lens constantly attempts to refocus in the rapidly deteriorating light. But Sixty Six was a clone of the Empire, he had no use for natural eyesight, instead he opted for the more significant and potent Imperial optical visor which was directly fitted to his helmet, technology was his force, technology had seen him through many duals with many Jedi, these two would be no different.

Quickly checking the Jedi’s identity Sixty Six was slightly surprised. “Well, so it’s them..” He exclaimed. Imperial intelligence had been a little wary of the source credentials but apparently the suspicion was unfounded. Well no matter, his targets were in sight and it was now time to end his mission and put pleasentaries aside. Standing up Sixty Six steadied himself against the hard winds of Corellia. Quickly lifting an S-17 Launcher onto his shoulder, the trooper was confident that Jedi precognition wouldn’t be expecting a level five warhead, which was quite capable of reducing their pathetic accommodation to ashes. Obtaining a target lock on the window Sixty Six opened fire without a moments hesitation.

“ Ta ta old friends.” Sixty Six chuckled.

Jacob, being the better of the two brothers at sensing danger, noticed a shape approaching. Taylor!

The twins had little time to react as the missile exploded, turning the room and several others surrounding it into a fire deathtrap, causing a 4-alarm fire that would soon be responded to. But what happened to the two young Jedi?

Here's what happened:

Taylor and Jacob were barely able to put up a Force shield as the two ducked milliseconds before the missile hit a wall after flying into the window. The shield protected them from certain death, but their cloaks were still burned from the blast and had to be discarded. Next, the wooden floor caved in due to the explosion and fire, and they were cut by the splinters that resulted, though Taylor burned most of them away by manipulating the fire. Then, the two ran for it, heading out a back entrance.

“Blast it!” Sixty Six cursed. “Must I do everything myself?” Discarding the S-17 the clone commander took to the skies in retribution, miss them once shame on them, miss them twice shame on me he thought. Streaming through the cold Corelian evening Sixty Six gently landed in what remained of the shabby hotel room. “Jedi.. will they ever clean up after themselves?” He remarked while surveying the charred remains. “Ahh well, time to clean up the mess.” Dropping through the hole Sixty Six plunged into the corridors below.

In front of him was a dark expanse, room doors with no numbers and many flickering lights which proved to be a slight annoyance. Flicking his visor onto pheromone mode Sixty Six would soon get to the root of the Jedi stench. Running away, how about that! Following the trail which would linger for hours the trooper was right on their heels. Turning one corner then the next he was now sure of their route, they were taking the back exit. Running towards the end of the corridor Sixty Six leaped out of the fourth story window, igniting his jet pack the commander turned in mid air, pulling his pistol up he released five shots. Now if his prey had been normal vandals then they would be experiencing a rather unpleasant aperture in the cranial cavity by now, but sadly Jedi and especially these Jedi had the most of annoying traits, in which they just didn’t die.

Predictably his blaster bolts were deflected by the lightsabres, but being a thorough Imperial officer Sixty Six had prepared well in advance. Releasing two concussion grenades from his belt the trooper would entrust gravity to finish the job for him.

"It's 66 after all." Taylor said as he looked behind them and deflected bolts.

"Yeah. Here comes some grenades." Jacob said, spotting the small objects falling. He blasted them out of the sky with blaster shots, making them explode with concussive force. Fortunately, the blast didn't affect them much. "Taylor? Return the favor."

"All right!" Taylor smirked. He focused energy on his hands and formed fireballs, then tossed them at the flying clone commander. Upon contact, they would explode like the aforementioned grenades.

“Fireballs? On Kamino we burn witches.” Sixty Six muttered as he took evasive action. It wasn’t hard after all the Jedi tricks could only move in a straight line. Annoyed that his grenades didn’t have the desired effect the commander decided to take more proactive measures in dealing with this infection.

Unbuckling another five grenades Sixty Six decided to launch them at the buildings above Jacob and Taylor, If they could block grenades and blaster fire, let them block masonry.

With a satisfying explosion the West Side of “The Lions Den” somehow ceased to exist.

I should be paid extra for this… Extermination and home improvement, what more could the emperor ask for?

The twins swiftly dodged the falling masonry, threw some baseball-sized pieces up at 66, then made like the Roadrunner using Force Speed to avoid the larger pieces and head to a point of safety from where they could decide on their next course of action: find a way to get to the superweapon and destroy it.

Sixty Six cursed as the Jedi disappeared, he was hoping that he could take them out here and now, but some how he didn’t think that it was going to happen. Touching down onto the street below, the clone commander accessed his orbital uplink.

“Do you have them?” He demanded.

Tracking them right now, they are moving towards the West access point, it’s a known rebel group, shall I have security move to apprehend them?

“No, no no, let them get the information they want, once they get to the galaxy gun in orbit we will deal with them there and then. Just let me know if and when they are heading off world.”

Yes sir.

Leaving the scene of destruction for orbit, Sixty Six allowed the Jedi to believe they had “escaped.”

"Well, we did know it was gonna be a challenge." Jacob smiled as they caught their breaths in a building at the west point.

"Yeah, what do we do now?" Taylor asked.

"My feeling is that we should infiltrate a base, find out what the superweapon is, and hijack a shuttle or something to get there." Jacob answered.

"Good plan. We'll use some of that stormtrooper armor." Taylor said, pointing a thumb at glistening-white armor and standard-issue blasters. The twins put on the armor and held the blasters in their hands, and headed to the base nearby.

The twins went through the base with little trouble and took a shuttle up to the superweapon, ready to complete their mission.