Well lets see if this works.... Or if mr.Kingpen over there will kill me before i can get the starter story up.
POST NOW!

Uh, maybe you want to start off with, you know, some story content. Just a suggestion :p

(I'll link this in my signature anyway)

This thread is sucking.

Ok, I'll bite.

They say that in the dead of space, no one can hear you scream... But that's not exactly true when you're in a ship, and there are others around, and your comm link is open and you just spilt hot caf on yourself and it burns really bad. It is in this embarressing situation that we join our protagonist, Sarn Cadrill. He's been many things in his past lives, a starship captain, a hero, even a writer. But now the only thing on his mind is getting that caf out of his lap before he does permanent damage to his favorite body part. He stands quickly, brushing the caf away with his hands. It splatters on the main console, and seeps into the complex circuitry. Smoke rises from the console and alarm bells go off. Over the comm a distorted voice calls out to him...

voice: Sarn, Sarn! Are you ok? What's going on?

Sarn sighs and flicks a switch on the console. The alarms fall into peaceful silence. He activates the comm switch.

Sarn: Uhh, no problem. Just some technical difficulties.. Must have hit some, uhh.. turbulance or something.

voice: Turbulance? We're in deep space and we're not moving. How could you have hit turbulance?

Sarn: I'm fine.

voice: Fine? You shrieked like a little girl.

Sarn: Geb, drop it. It's no big deal.

Our newly identified hero sighs into the mic on his ship resting just off the starboard side of Sarn's freighter. The distortion causes the sigh to sound like a growl.

Geb: Well whatever. Are you sure he'll be here? We've been waiting now for hours.

Sarn: Geb, my sources are good. They've never steered me wrong before. He'll be here. Just sit tight. Tiberium will be here, and once he arrives, it'll be like taking candy from a baby. Let's go over the plan again.

Geb: We've been over the plan. Tiberium drops out of hyperspace, I disable him with my ion cannon and you board. It'll be a piece of cake. This is gonna be easy money.

Sarn: I know... Sorry. My nerves are frayed. This is a huge bounty. I don't know what Tiberium did to piss that Hutt off, but whatever it was...

Geb: Hey, that's none of our business. We're just here to collect the bounty and move on.

Sarn: Right. Let's just relax until he shows-

Alarm bells shriek on Sarn's freighter as a small sloop emerges from hyperspace.

Geb: There he is. Let's go to it. Powering up ion cannons.

Sarn takes a seat in his now soggy captain's chair and his fingers fly over the console as he moves into position to intercept the sloop...

MEANWHILE

A guy named Leirey had just discover that the Empire was afterall.... big so he decided to join up thinking they would be the winning side in the war.

[On Coruscant]

"Well it looks like...a nice day..."

Trooper: "Yes yes it is NOW SHOW ME SOME ID SCUMBOY!"

"Ok Jesus hold you'r horses"

Trooper: "My what?"

"Something i just made up"

Trooper: "I see...Well this all check out welcome to nAVYAHHHHGHGHGH *HACK COUGH CHOKE AGGHGAGHGAHA AGAHGAGHAG HGAHGA HHAGHAG A HAGHAG AHGA HA HGA AHGAHGA HAG AH AAH AHAAH AA AH AHA HAG AHAAG HAAHGHA AHA HAG AHG"

"What the Sarlack?"

Trooper: "Sorry i choked on some rations"

"Right..........."

TO BE CONTINUED...OR NOT TO BE! THAT IS THE QUEsTION!

I just couldn’t resist.
Plus, I have to do something while waiting for Majir to finish up his post…

They say space is dead… But that’s not entirely true. Floating through space are thousands of tiny micro-currents of extremely sparse atomic gasses, giant celestial clouds of various noble gasses, carbons, and even rarified metals. This micro-cosmos itself is continually excited by endless streams of radiation, sometimes from natural sources, and sometimes from some git screaming over and open comms channel. Some might even say that the force penetrates even the so called vacuumed of space, forming the very medium though which life exists… And the REALLY brain-damaged go on about midichlorians, but noone takes them seriously, noone.

A large cargo vessel drifts quietly through the “vacuum” of space, leaving a wake of light hydrocarbons behind it. In much the same way that it is incorrect to say tat space is dead, it is also incorrect to say that this was simply a cargo ship. In fact, it was about 30 cargo ships, or at least parts from 30 cargo ships healed together with an undetermined about of durasteel bracing and fiber-weave bonding fabric.

Inside the cockpit several lights suddenly begin to flash and are accompanied by high-pitched alarm.
*Bwee Bwee Bwee*

Wookie: Hoooooowel!

From somewhere in the hind quarters of the ship a sudden clanging can be heard, and several moments later a very scruffy looking man still clutching a hydro-spanner in his teeth, emerges from the back and takes the pilot’s seat. He turns to address the wookie.

Nerf Herder: Muuuph muupm mopth.

Wookie: Howel! Hoot hoot!

The Nerf herder remembers the hydro-spanner, and quickly transfers it from his mouth to one of his numerous pockets.

Nerf Herder: What’s the warning for?

Wookie: Hoooowel HOOOT howwwelll.

Nerf Herder: A Space Battle? Out here? What heading?

Wookie: Growwwel! Grunt grunt HOWELLL!

Nerf Herder: Come on, times have been hard, and someone is bound to loose. We can haul the scrap with us and sell it off next time we hit Sullust. Probably pay for a new set of energy converters for the main drive feed if we are lucky.

Wookie: Groaan Growwel!

Nerf Herder: Dangerous? What could possibly go wrong?

Wookie: Howelll hoot hooooot howellll.

Nerf Herder: You worry too much Thatchett… If this ship can’t hold it’s own against a couple of two-bit space pirates and a lost cargo hauler then I’m not worthy of the name Captain Hawthorne.

Thatchett: Hooooweeeellll…

Hawthorne: That wasn’t MY fault! I told you that the pre-fire chambers were damaged to begin with!

Thatchett: Grooooan…

Hawthorne: Hey… you saw that load of plastisteel conduit yourself…

Thatchett: Wooooooot…

Hawthorne: Will you give it a rest already? It’s not my fault if every trader in the sector dumps their garbage on me first chance they get… Now quick, ready the deflector shields. It looks like they are using Ion’s out there and we might be able to nab ourselves a perfectly good ship if we move fast enough…

[lol, exciting... amd Majir seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth]

The whine of Ion blasts interfering with his comm relay, Sarn could do little but watch as Geb's sleek, heavily modified A-Wing starfighter pummeled the shields of their target. Sarn leaned back in the pilot's chair of his freighter. Everything was going according to plan. Suddenly a new alarm rang out. Sarn glanced nervously at the console display. There was another ship out there. Sarn swivelled one of the exterior cameras and dialed up maximum magnification. A junkheap of a freighter was closing in on their position.

Sarn: Voodoo, get up here! We've got a problem.

From the back of the ship there's a loud clang, followed by a feminine grunt of pain. Vunaetria Snowflaster emerges from the back of the ship and take a seat in the co-pilot's chair. She scans the console.

Vunaetria: And they say space is huge... According to sensors they're powered up and ready for a battle. Who are they?

Sarn: I don't know. But I'm not about to sit around here to find out. Divert power to shields and lasers. We're not losing this bounty.

Vunaetria: Sarn, that's freighter's heavily modified. I'm reading power spikes all over the ship.

Sarn: Don't worry. We've got a few tricks up our own sleeves. Hang on.

Sarn fingers fly over the console with familier ease, and the engines of the small freighter rumble as the ship swings around on an intercept course.

Meanwhile, Tycho Brahmen speeds through deep space in his modified StealthX fighter, a good ten minutes' hyperflight from the pending battle. His R9 astromech droid whistles a warning.

Tycho: What's the problem, Arnie?

Arnie: Beebop dee beep!

A translation rolls across Tycho's message screen.

Tycho: Great, you fixed the long-range scanners. Anything I should know about?

Arnie: Beep! Dwee-doot whEE whoo....

Tycho: Interesting... how far away?

A distance and set of co-ordiantes appear on the screen.

Tycho: That's right up ahead. We can make a quick stop, right? Maybe one of those ships has some spare rations. Fire up the hyperdrive, set for those co-ordinates you gave me.

The little droid gave an affirmative beep, and locked in his crash webbing as the starfighter's X-shaped wings folded up. His engines gave a quick surge of energy, the stars streaked past his forward viewport, and then he was gone once again.

As sarn's fingers fly with the lightning fast reflexes of years of, well doing this sort of thing over and over, he skillfuly manuvers the ship dispite the mess apon everything from his caf.

The "sound" of the Ion cannons rip though the nonexistaint air as a direct hit apon the freightor's sheild genorator causes the good majority of the back half of the freigtor to be reduced into space trash.


Sarn: "WHAT THE....???"

Geb: "You said they were a problem.....did you know them?"

Sarn: " Lets hope not."

Geb: "I guess we can focus on Tiberium now."

Vunaetria: "You're just going to let them hang like that?"

Geb: "That was the plan"

Sarn was then faced with a very sticky situation, partialy because he had to decide wether to pursue Tiberium, or did he dare to try and help the other freightor not knowing wether they were freindly or not, but mostly because he still had caf all over himself.

Tiberium was being persued by what appered to be half a space frieghter when he saw it.

"My god that...thats...HOLY SMELLFACE IT THE MASSASSI TEMPLE FORUMS!

The massassi forums being a huge floating mass of nerdly build traveling through space at 3.127846297364872369487629346 miles an hour

"Iron neck give me full power to front sheilds"

"Yes sikr"

"And get the Voice thing fixed dammit"

"yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss......"

*BOINK

"Dammit you got it stuck again"

"Si-"

"Shut up iron neck"

The ship spun around on its axis and came within firing range if the persuing vessal

"Fire all torpedoes"

*ssPOOOOM SPOOOOM SPOOOM SPOOOM

The volley was 10 seconds away from the enemy craft

"By by!"

Tiberiums ship jumped into hyperspace

Proximity alarms screamed to life inside Tycho's cockpit as the auto-safe pulled him out of hyperspace. He turned off the alarms, but they immediately sprang to life again.

Tycho: Arnie, what's tripping all those kriffing alarms?

In response, an indicator appeared on his sensor map. It was big, and made of stone, presumably an asteroid.

Tycho: Whew, that could have been bad. I'll just pull up...

He pulled away from the stony object and put on the throttle, to see a stream of proton torpedoes fly past, barely missing his cloaked starfighter.

Tycho: O_o Aie! Move s-foils into attack position! Switch to maneouvering speed!

The astromech whistled an affirmative and carried out the action. A second later, Tycho steered his craft out of the line of fire and headed back towards the spatial object. With it now obscuring his front viewport, Tycho's mouth gaped.

Tycho: What the..... Arnie, what is that?

The droid bleeped a negative.

The Massassi Forums were lit by a thousand green floodlights, giving Tycho and his droid a sense of awe. They spotted an opening, and headed inside.

As Tycho landed inside the Massassi Forums, all he could see was rows upon rows of tutorials and levels. Levels that no one wanted to look at, think about, and least of all, play.

*Tycho exits his ship and does the jawdrop of awe*

Arnie: boopdedoop

Tycho: I didn't know there were Jedi Knights in this part of space.

Arnie: doopdoodoodoo

Tycho: ...oh, that's not what you meant, was it.

Arnie: And I wouldn't mind it if you let me play holochess more often.

Tycho: Well you know, budget is tight, and - hey...!

All of a sudden a mysterious man clad in dark robes walks out of the gloom of the shelves and walks up to Tycho!

MM: Hi, I'm Brian. I'm the only *civilized* person living here. In fact, I'm the only person living here.

Tycho: I'm Tycho. What are you doing on a ship this big all alone?

Brian: I keep myself occupied.. *massive head twitch*

Tycho: uh-huh

Brian: If you find yourself so inclined, you can refuel, or maybe even stay awhile, ahahahha!

Tycho: What the hell is so funny?

Brian: sorry, something stuck in my throat

What does Brian have in store for Tycho? Only time will see if Gettle makes a post that actually furthers the story! More to come soon, on the Star Wars NES!

Neer tatooine

"Phew we got away from that place"

A reading appears on the screen

"You are clear to land at docking bay 92"

"92 got it"

The ship gently descellerated and landed

Tiberium walked out the ship and was greated by a starnge man that looked like a dog.

"Who the hell and WHAT THE HELL are you?"

"I am 432 LOLER of the PUGLERS"

"Ok...i care...why?"

"I can give you 50,000 credits to deliver me to the massassi forums."

"But that place takes souls away!"

"Yes i know *Manical laughter"

"Sure ill take you there as soon as my droid gets some repairs."

Tiberium walked out the docking bay wondering what the strange creature wanted to do with that horrid place. There where rumors of "Space Trolls" and "spammers" haunting the place.

Tiberium found a droid repair shop and walked in.

"I would like a new voice chip for my droid here"

"Yes sir that will be 6,000 credits"

"6 THOUSAND!"

"Yes sir its-"

*the sound of blaster cocking is heard

*the sound of 6 other blasters is heard

"woah woah okay ill pay"

"That's right sir you will"

A few minutes later Tiberium returned to his ship

"Ready to go mr...."

"Tiberium"

"Yes Mr.Tiberium may we leave?"

"Yes but its 4 hours away this place"

"I can wait"

STAY TUNED

*Amidst the black hollow of the desolate region of space wherein a fantastical battle may have almost happened, 3 ships sat at a standstill, as though time around them had stopped. Captain Sarn Cadrill at the helm of the gunship Maus' Etange (a heavily modified long-distance beast capable of docking and transporting two extreme light fighters) stared out his cockpit at the wounded freighter of one "Hawthorne", all the while noting Gebohq in his trusty A-Wing taking a flanking position along the freighter's port side.*

Sarn: ... I don't care who you are! My paycheck is gone thanks to you!

Hawthorne: Your paycheck?! This bounty was fair game! He'd have been mine if it wasn't for your untimely "being here before me."

Sarn: Like you could have taken him in that clunking piece of junk you fly.

Hawthorne: Why you... I have half a mind to send Thatchett over there to rip off your arms and beat you with them!

Sarn: Right, like he could get past my lovely... What the...?

*As the two captains argued over petty trifles like "money" and "pretty ships", an unassuming Correllian transport ship maneuvered into the space between Sarn's and Hawthorne's ships.*

Hawthorne: You have a lovely what the? Man... I don't know if I can top that.

*Suddenly, a voice that sounded as though it was coming through the other end of a rebreather burst over the comm channels.*

Voice: I'd recommend you quit bickering and follow me the heck out of here.

Sarn: Wait... who are you and why the heck should we listen to you? We have you outmanned and outgunned.

Voice: Well, the way I see it, what we have is a bit more of a "Mexican Standoff". See, my Ion Turret is currently poised to fire a volley at your little A-Wing friend there, and it just so happens that my rear-mounted concussion missile launcher is poised right in front of your so-called "cockpit". And from what I hear, those missiles don't much stop for "deflector shields". That, and there's a rather large construct moving this way reeeeeeaaaaaally slowly that is full of evil and possibly souls. Maybe even evil souls. So, I suggest you rescue those folk you so rudely disabled out here and then rendez-vous with my ship, The Flaming Jawa at the location on that astrogation chart I just sent over. From there we can discuss a few things... Captain Cadrill.

Hawthorne: Hey!........ Why's your ship called The Flaming Jawa?

Voice: *sigh* That's a long story best related over a few strong drinks...

*The comm channel cuts off. Inside The Flaming Jawa, the Kel Dor, Elu Durm, looks over to the Jawa, Scrapple, in the seat next to him.*

Elu: So... Think they'll be smart enough to meet up with us? Or will they be assimilated into that vile asteroidey thing like so many others?

Scrapple: UTEENI!

Elu: I really hope not. You have a bad history with Speeder Bikes.

(NSP: So, I decided to roll with this, see if I could bust out my ol' Star Wars D20 characters. This could be interesting.)

En Route to the massassi forums to drop of the "Pugler"

"Yes iron neck i know its a ship,Now stop talking just to here you'r self"

"Yes sir i wi-"

"SHUT UP!"

*At this moment the pugler walked into the room

"It would appear that we have arived"

"Ya well with those bounty hunter there i can't drop you off... Hey i know..."

"Iron launch a torpedo at that ship thats poised to attack the bounty hunters"

"Launching"

Phoiooooooooooooooom

"He he he get us to hyperspace"

"Where to?"

"Naboo"

Elu: What the? Full power to aft shields!

Scrapple: ETEE WIBBLE TWON!

The ship shudders as the torpedo impacts.

Elu: Shields holding. Should be ok. What was that?

Sarn (over speaker): That was Tiberium. What a trigger happy freak. No wonder he's got a bounty on his head.

Scrapple: REEN TWOOOOOI

Elu: Damnit, you're right. Listen, Sarn. That torpedo volley fried the circuitry in my hyperdrive motivator. Any chance we could hitch a ride to Tattoine?

Sarn: I'm sure something could be aranged that will be... mutually beneficial.

...

Suddenly ammist a large deal of voice chatter comes a calmer, more soothing voice...

JediKirby Jedi Master Kirby coming in at transmitted coordinates. I come in the name of the council in hopes to resolve this matter. Power down your weapons and board my vessel at once. If this cannot be resolved in a humane way, the council has given me rights of disgression. You have 30 seconds to respond.

A multi-plex of rings, spheres and other geometric shapes spins in rythem to the form of what looks like a space-craft entering the battle. It's size is, in proportion to the other ships present, moderately large. The ship accelerates beyond a known speed towards the cener of the standoff, seemingly unafraid of impending dooom. It waits.

Tycho: Well... uh...

Brian suddenly reaches out and clutches Tycho's chest with his hand, just over the heart. Tribal drums begin to sound, and Tycho screams in pain as Brian begins to withdraw Tycho's soul from within.

Tycho: What......wd.a.f.faw.g.ga.gds.fd.sadf.sad.a......damnit....

Brian: Fool! Nobody can resist the power of the Forum! We will conquer all!!!

The scene continues for another second. Brian jerks his hand away and Tycho's chest convulses. Tycho collapses to the floor, the ordeal finally over, and Brian opens his fist to reveal Tycho's soul. It is about three inches in diameter and resembles a glowing tangerine.

Tycho: *looks up* That's it?

Brian: Well... yeah.

There is a five-second pause.

Tycho: Right. Umm... what are you going to do with that?

Brian: Eh? AH, yes, your soul. Hmm. I shall leave it on the counter to ripen. When the soul is ripe, I'll devour it, and your puny body will become slave to me... forever!

Tycho: I don't think so! Graaa!!!

Tycho leaps up at Brian, but his opponent flicks a wrist and uses the admin power "Force-Boot". One second, Tycho is about to lay waste to his opponent; the next second, he's back outside the forum in his StealthX. Looking on his sensors, he sees that the forum is moving towards the other craft in the immediate area. What happens now? Will their souls be harvested too? Will they become Brian's slaves? Tune in next post to find out.

i said id be back!

"Ok now screw naboo turn us around and dock with the forums"

Iron Neck "Ye S "Sior"

5 minutes later

"Okay we have docked goodby...thing"

Pugler: "Yes good by indeed MWAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA"

"Right"....

Pugler walked down the gang plank and lit on fire

"Iron neck get us the hell out of here!"

The ship lifted off.

*Flump*

A... well lets say slightly tispy biped had just tripped over a snake and landed face first in the sand.

Sand didn't taste very pleasant.

Matte : Urngh, nasty.

He looked both ways, rubbing his face in the sand, and saw nothing. He quickly remembered that the space-port was infact behind him.

*BKKKKKOOOOONNNNNNNN*

A strong wind caused him to collapse backwards into his shallow trench again. He saw his ship rise into the air and dissapear in a flash of light.

Matte : Oi! Come back here with my ship you [bad people]!

After roughly 5 minutes of rage fuelled fist-shaking at the sky he gave it up. Atleast there was still a tracker on it.

A small beeping box landed at his feet.

Matte : Damnit.

With a rather drunken sigh Matte clambered back out of his hole again and tried to crawl into the space-port. There was probably someone in there that could help him find his ship.

Tycho pilots his cloaked StealthX alongside Geb's A-Wing.

Tycho: Arnie, open a ship-to-ship channel to that A-Wing.

Arnie: Doo-weet!

The secure-frequency comm channel crackles to life inside Geb's A-Wing.

Tycho: Hey, A-Wing... you're flying an escort pattern for that freighter, right?

Geb: Eh? Who wants to know? Who is this?

Tycho: Look starboard.

Geb looks to his right, out the viewport. At first he sees only the star-flecked emptiness of space, but suddenly the familiar shape of an X-Wing craft materializes, seemingly out of thin air. Almost immediately, its hull tinting returns to total blackness.

Geb: Oh. A StealthX, huh? Nifty.

Tycho: "Nifty"? Have you even checked your sensor readings?

Gebohq looks at his sensor map, and notices the big mass approaching from behind.

Geb: What? It's just an asteroid. I'll tell Captain Cadrill to move.

Tycho: No! You have to jump to hyperspace, now!

Geb: That's ridiculous. We'll just change course. Ace One to Captain... -

Tycho sighs in frustration and jams Geb's transmission, then widens the comm channel to incorporate all the local frequencies.

Tycho: Attention, Captain Cadrill. My name is Tycho Brahmen. Please take a look at the asteroid approaching from behind.

Sarn jabs a button on his chair and returns the message.

Sarn: Just who the hell do you think you are, giving me orders!?

Geb: Yeah!

Tycho: Wait, I just -

Sarn: You just nothin', idiot! I have had a very bad day so far. I've gotten in a bad space battle, spilled hot caf down my pants, and, oh, in case you hadn't noticed, HALF MY SHIP IS GONE!!! whine whine whine rage complain...

Tycho: There's a forum behind you.

Sarn: SONOFA LUBMAWEDOAD-- what?

Both the A-Wing and the freighter turn 180 degrees to see the Massassi Forum fast approaching, its hanger bay gaping like a rancor's mouth, waiting to devour them. What would happen to the spacefarers??????

Roughly ten feet from the massassi forums.

"Okay iron neck get us to corellia"

"Yes sir"

The ship jumped to hyperspac

Inside the forums:

Pugler: "Yes Yes IT SHALL BE...-WHAT THE HEL-

Pugler was then hit by a peice of debri from the battle.

He\She\It was then launched into brian

As Pugler was thrown, Brian was looking the other way. He only had a moment's notice before the thing crashed into him, producing a dull crack that echoed from his lower back. Pugler was, of course, unharmed.

Pugler: Oof... Too close! I must get out of this debris field. Hey, you! Get up, ingrate!

Brian doesn't move. Pugler pokes him once, then once more, and still nothing happens.

A smile slowly spreads across Pugler's face. He begins to laugh, realizing that he has singlehandedly taken control of the Massassi Forums, along with a little help from a piece of a ship, of course.

Pugler: Well, well, well. What have we here?

Pugler reaches down into Brian's fist, withdrawing the glowing tangerine-like object from rapidly stiffening fingers.

Pugler: Whatever could this be? I shall commemorate my newfound power by eating it!

Pugler eats the unripe soul. At the same moment, Tycho vomits inside his spacecraft. The post ends.