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Roleplay Threads / Polydroxal Flood
Last post by The Insane Admin -
She looks so beautiful when she does that, the boy mused, watching his friend dance in the street ahead of him. The rare glimpses of sunlight that found its way through the mess of skyscrapers made her amber hair glow with a sheen that seemed to reflect and find its way into the darkest corners of the alley. Jerek gazed pleasantly on as Calista danced, twirling and spinning about, her hair flying around her as it caught the sunbeams that gave it a life of its own.

She stopped and dropped her arms to her side, staring up at the buildings as she sighed. Bringing her sight down, she looked into his eyes and a smile spread across her face. She let out a laugh, girlish and youthful, a laugh full of innocence, but one that gave her a way to hide her insecurity. The wave of natural fear that had washed over her when her eyes had met his, a typical adolescent reaction, had startled her. She loved being in Jerek's presence and she enjoyed his company, but his eyes seemed to hold so many more feelings than he showed, more than they were allowed to express. It was almost unbearable to contain her own feelings, but her intense training had formed instincts that told her to dam them up and keep them behind a rigid face and blank eyes.

No, she told herself, No, I will not. Her defiance went unspoken, however. She was sure that he felt the same way, that the Dragoon Knights were too restrictive, that they tried to strip them of all feeling, of all emotion, to become their perfect soldier. She knew he felt that way, but she could not bring herself to say it. It was such a decisive act, with such permanence that she felt she should not. The words could never be taken back, once they had been spoken, her rebellion was written in stone, inscribed for all to see. Her comfort with her own feelings and with Jerek did not yet extend to that point.

He smiled at her laugh, but he cringed inside. He had heard something in that laugh, something that wasn't quite right. Was it that she didn't like being around him, that she wasn't in the mood today or something like that? It invoked a fear of his own, but he quelled it. It was not true. He had seen her enjoy his company and spending time with him so many times before, this time would not change that. Jerek had been around Calista enough to know that.

Calista. Her very name conjured up warm images in his head, and sent tingles down his spine. His feelings for her went so much deeper than friendship, and he hoped hers did too. How he could ever find the courage to express his emotions, he did not know. Every time he was with her, he felt like pouring it all, letting it out and telling her everything. But time and time again, he didn't, he couldn't. It was the training that the Knights had instilled in him. Or perhaps it was something else, a deeper fear or inhibitor that prevented him from speaking out. He thought she felt the same way, yet she never said anything either. Perhaps they were both cursed, to be forever unable to speak truthfully.

The smile faded from her face. He was thinking, and she knew, about her. Her lips curved up again, but not as far as they had before. "What?" she asked. Maybe he would say what he was really thinking. She hoped he would.

Her question interrupted his thoughts, but he gave an instinctively quick smile. "Oh," he shrugged, "Just thinking about how you dance."

Calista felt her cheeks flush and grow warm, but she smiled back anyhow. She liked having her skills appreciated, she didn't get to show them much anymore. Her days with the Live Wires were pleasant memories, but fleeting. She was rarely able to just show off her moves anymore, no one really cared except Jerek. She giggled, considering that to be the reason she liked him so much. It was a childish reasoning, and she amended it immediately. It was definitely not the sole reason that she was drawn to Jerek.

"Thanks. Maybe I'll get you to do some with me someday," Calista teased, her eyes dancing with glee at Jerek's squirm at her suggestion.

The boy shuddered. Dancing was for girls, first of all, and second, he could never do the kind of moves that Calista could pull off. "Err, no, I don't think so. I'll just keep watching you, if that's alright."

The girl just gave a shrug and turned on her heels. She skipped a ways down the alley, spinning around to glance back at Jerek, her hair spinning again in the process. Grinning, Calista twirled again and headed around the corner, into the midst of a heavily trafficked street. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Jerek emerging from the alleyway as well, and slowed to let him catch up.

As Jerek turned onto the street, he had to dodge out of the way as a hurried man rushed by, brushing into other citizens along the way. He had the urge to shout at him, but he would be a voice among many. Several others were yelling at him, their comments laced with various forms of offensive and colorful language, and in several languages. The boy shook his head and jogged to catch up with Calista. He slowed down as he caught up and matched her stride.

The pair walked for a ways before a figure caught Jerek's eye. It appeared, at first, to be a statue of some sort, but no one would put a statue in the middle of the walkway. It then occurred to him that the figure was moving, its body composed of some sort of fluidic metal. It didn't make sense. As the pair drew closer, the figure came into better view, and Jerek could make out its shape, the distinctive shape of a humanoid female. He shook his head, thinking it was a trick. No, it was still there. Gesturing in its direction, he turned to Calista, "Have you ever seen anything like that?"

It took a few moments for her eyes to find where Jerek was pointing, but when they did, Calista drew back at once. It was a figure composed entirely of metal, and it seemed to be moving. The Dragoon Knights instructed them in the variety of races in the galaxy, but she had never heard of one made of metal. It could be a droid or robot, but the figure's metallic surface seemed to flow as if it was liquid or molten metal. No droid could do that. Astonished, she asked, "What is that thing?"
Character Development / Nico Benoni [Jedi Temple Online]
Last post by The Insane Admin -

Username: Nico Benoni

Character Name: Nico Benoni
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Rank: Youngling

Classification*: N/A
Lightsaber Colour: Green
Combat Form/Subform(s)**:
Force Affinities:

Physical Description: Nico is like most young human males, he has

Personality: Nico


Fill out the form on the website, or submit the filled out application either in the body of the email or as an attachment to:

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Lightsaber Colour: (Does not apply to Youngling characters, or beginning Padawan characters. The colour should relate to the character's classification if they are a Jedi, and should be of an appropriate colour for a Sith. See The Lightsaber: Colours.)

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Character Development / Kieran Tyandas :: New Echoes
Last post by The Insane Admin -
Player Info
Name/Alias Jordan
Where are you from: Minnesota, USA
Age: 18
How did you find us: Current Member
Contact: Email:
Look at the bottom of my post for anything else.

Character Info
Character Name: Kieran Tyandas
Age: 12
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Place of Origin: Corellia
Class: Scoundrel
Affiliation: Sub Rosa
Force Sensitive: No

Appearance: About the average height for his age, Kieran stands at just under five feet and weighs a standard eighty-five pounds. He has dirty blond hair with a hint of auburn that stands out in certain types of light.
Distinguishing Marks:






Overall Dark/Light Stance
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Character Development / Jonathan Donadel :: Echoes
Last post by The Insane Admin -
Player Info
Name/Alias Jordan
Where are you from: Minnesota, USA
Age: 18
How did you find us: Current Member
Contact: Email:
For the rest, look at the bottom of my post.

Character Info
Character Name: Jonathan Donadel
Titles/Nicknames: Jon, Don, Captain, Skipper, Whatever people will call him
Age: 62
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Place of Origin: Alderaan
Class: Noble
Affiliation: None
Rank: Civilian
Force Sensitive: No

Appearance: Jonathan is a fairly tall figure standing at six feet, and he towers over some of the shorter members of his and other species. His graying hair and wrinkled face is a testament to his age, but gives him more charisma and the appearance of wisdom as well. He is usually seen wearing a shirt, vest and pants, a casual suit, or just a sweater and pants, preferring comfort over style. In his recent years, Jonathan has also been seen in the company of two assisting devices. One is his spectacles, which are either always on his face or folded up in his shirt pocket to make sure he does not displace them. The other is a cane that he uses to support his left leg.
Distinguishing Marks: Jonathan wears and uses both spectacles and a cane.
Handiness: Right

Personality: Some who knew Jon in his younger years would say that he has lost his energy and vibrant youth. They would only be half right. Although Jonathan no longer has a burning passion for patriotism, his energy remains full, though some is spent on the pain of his leg and old age. In his younger years, Jonathan was a loud voice in the crowd of supporters in the Empire and Dominion, but as his youth waned, so did his enthusiasm for patriotism.

To most, Jonathan is perceived as a laid-back individual. He employs caution and wisdom that came from his experiences, not very eager to try something new. He enjoys his life day by day, not worrying much about the future. He is a caring individual as well, and will often put others' desires and pleasure over his own.

Jonathan does have one pet peeve, pertaining to force users. He was taught to hate the Jedi as a young man, and despite the absence of their presence for years, and even with knowledge of the Dragoon Knights who worked for the Dominion, he remains wary of the Jedi and any user of the Force or lightsaber.

Parents who died long ago. Friends who have been lost to age and distance. The only relations Jonathan has now are the people who come aboard his ship.

History: Jonathan Donadel were born to two prestigious parents on Alderaan. Although not part of the royal family or the true nobility, the Donadel's were in the upper range of the middle class, and were able to provide their son with the same education that the sons and daughters of noble families would receive. Donadel quickly grew to be intelligent and a quick thinker.

Jon took a fancy to politics and observing the rapid political changes in his teenage years. The Clone Wars had an effect on all citizens of the Republic, and though many turned their eye on Coruscant, Jonathan did so with an avid fascination. He studied the reports that Jedi Masters and Admirals and Generals of the military gave, and the discussions that the Senators had on the war effort. He held his breath with the rest of the galaxy as the Separatist forces attacked Coruscant itself, which soon turned into a victory for the Republic upon the news of the Separatist leader's death.

Months later, as he was about to start his last year of schooling, Jonathan was surprised to hear that the Jedi had been the reason for all the fighting. It was they, said the new emperor, who had caused the Clone Wars and tried to use it to take over the Republic. Jonathan was infuriated, but not at the new Emperor, but at the Jedi, for their tricks and deception. Those who he had admired and wished on some days that he could be had turned out to betray him. The new Emperor promised peace and security in the Galactic Empire, and Jonathan drank every word. He told himself that he would do what he could to service the Empire and keep it safe and free.

When he graduated from school, Jonathan signed up for the Imperial Navy. His dream was to become a high ranking Admiral and lead the Empire to some glorious victory over a pirate or unknown foe that threatened the Empire. Four years at the academy did nothing to stamp out his dream, but over the course of those years, he lost his interest in politics. The Senate was still reeling over the declaration of the Empire, their powers drastically reduced as the new Emperor appointed Governors over systems and Moffs over sectors. And Jonathan's focus was turned on his work for the Academy, which proved to be a challenge even with his high-class education.

Jonathan's first assignment was to a Carrack-class Light Cruiser, the Dividend, as a lowly Engine Performance Analyzer. His duties were menial and tedious, but he kept good spirits as he reminded himself that he was performing a service for the Empire. His skills, though, were evident to his superiors, and within a year, he was given a higher position. With patience and reminding himself that he was doing a service for the Empire, Jonathan was able to work his way through the ranks of the Engineering department on the ship to Senior Engineer with the rank of Lieutenant in a matter of only five years.

While the Dividend was a good ship, the crew shifted through the years, partly because the ship's captain was strict and foreboding, and partly because the ship was one that often received new graduates from the Academy. Jonathan became part of the mostly-stable staff on the ship, staying constant to the ever-changing names and faces of crew below him. He became bored, however, and sometimes uncomfortable with the new officer's knowledge and techniques that surpassed his own. Having served for ten years aboard the Dividend, he put in for a transfer to another ship.

The other ship Jonathan was transferred to was the Avalon, an aging Venator-class Star Destroyer. Now at the rank of Lieutenant-Commander, the thirty-three year old Jonathan was assigned as the Avalon's Chief Engineer. The ship was prone to malfunctions and several design flaws gave the ship a severe disadvantage in combat with newer classed ships of the day. Still, it was able to fly and that was good enough for the Imperial Navy.

The ship was used primarily as a carrier for fighter patrols through Core systems, tasks that didn't place much stress on the aged warship. It rarely used its ability to land or operate as a ship to ship combat vessel, assigned strictly to carrier roles. That seemed alright for its captain and crew, and Jonathan adopted their nonchalance regarding the ship's role, and focused solely on his work. He wasn't much of a fighter anyways, but he knew his job allowed other citizens to perform their job without having to worry about criminals or the growing threat of terrorist rebels.

Jonathan spent six years maintaining the ship, fixing problems that cropped up, and making sure that it ran properly. After those six years, the ship's captain, Jiinan Ziracch, retired, promoting his first officer,  Milo Noth, to succeed him. Captain Noth was a dedicated officer who had served as Captain Ziracch's right hand for nearly fifteen years. He knew command and who possessed it, and approached a senior officer aboard the Avalon to assume his old position. Jonathan was surprised when that officer turned out to be him. Dutifully, but also excitedly, he accepted and was promoted to Commander to fit the new position.

Command seemed to suit him, and his superiors thought so too. After only three years as Captain Nath's first officer, Jonathan was approached by an Admiral of his fleet, who offered him a ship of his own. The ship, to Jonathan's amazement, was an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. He hadn't imagined himself as worthy of even serving on such a ship, much less commanding one. Nonetheless, he took the position, and became captain of the Vindicator.

Compared to the previous vessels he had served on, the Vindicator was a true warship. She was engaged in multiple combat missions every month, not simply serving as a patrol vessel or carrier. Jonathan served as the ship's captain for a few months before being assigned to the task force protecting the Empire's second Death Star battlestation, a huge superweapon that was able to destroy an entire planet, over the primitive world of Endor. There he met the forces of the Rebellion head on with the rest of the Imperial Naval forces assigned to the protection of the battlestation.

His crew and ship fought hard during the clash with Rebel forces. Varying versions of TIE-fighters met with X-,Y-,B- and A-Wing fighters from the rebels, creating a scene that would have been artistic if one forgot that the crisscrossing lasers were deadly and the explosions fatal, every fighter that went up in an orange ball of flame was one more pilot, one more life, extinguished like a candle on a windy night. His ship engaged Rebel cruisers and frigates while fighters zoomed around them.

In the heart of battle, the Vindicator turned broadside onto a Rebel gunship, destroying half the ship. Instead of exploding, the gunship's engines continued burning, as if they were set to go whether or not it received commands from the bridge. Jonathan ordered the ship to turn to avoid a collision but the battle-stressed Imperial Star Destroyer could not turn fast enough. The remnants of the gunship rammed into the starboard side of the Vindicator, destroying several weapons batteries and one of the secondary reactors. The ship's shields were disrupted and a Rebel starfighter, seeing its chance, fired several missiles into the port sensor globe.

The explosion of the sensor globe brought a large piece of the bridge's ceiling down, partly on top of Jonathan, and pinned him to the deck. The next few minutes resulted in chaos, only limited amounts of events actually registering in Jonathan's memory. What he did remember is that he had a perfect view out the window of the battlestation, and just minutes after the damage to his own ship, he saw the Death Star and the fleet's command ship collide, exploding in a brilliant flash of light. His officers turned to witness the explosion, and someone had the intelligence to boost power to the inertial dampeners before the shock wave would have ripped through the ship, tearing the ship apart. His pain vanishing, Jonathan stared for several minutes at the area that had once held the majestic battlestation in its view.

The Emperor and his second in command had been aboard that ship, the massive battlestation that was supposed to be the most powerful defense weapon in the galaxy. Now they were gone, and with it, the Empire's most powerful weapon. His entire life, Jonathan had only known the Emperor as the leader of the government, even in his days as Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Now he was gone. Jonathan was devastated. The next few months seemed to pass in a blur to him as he heard about the attempts to crush the last of the Rebellion, and their relentless attacks against their own.

During this time, of which Jonathan is only vaguely aware, his ship was stationed at the Kuat Drive Yards for repairs. He, in the meantime, had been in an Imperial Hospital for a few weeks while his left leg, which had been broken in several places, damaging the nerves and muscle, when part of the ceiling fell on it, recovered. He was comforted by his crew and grew close to them, even without having a ship to serve on for the months it took to repair the Vindicator. He learned to walk with his leg, which the doctors said could not be fully healed, having had to remove a portion of his muscle to salvage the remaining nerves and muscle tissues, and a cane for support. Bacta which could have saved it, it seems, was in a shortage immediately prior to the Battle of Endor, and with the increase in injured officers following that battle, the doctors were only able to use a reduced amount on Jonathan's leg in order to have enough for all their patients.

Finally, the ship was restored to its battle-ready version, after a prolonged period of repairs in which the Admiral commanding Jonathan's fleet decided to take the opportunity to refit the ship. Back in service, the Vindicator saw several more encounters with Rebel forces before a startling announcement sent ripples through the Empire. The Rebels had agreed to merge with the Empire and create a new government. It was to be lead by the newly crowned Emperor, but he would share power with a democratic body, the Council of Nine, comprising representatives from worlds across the Empire.

At this announcement, Jonathan was enraged. He had spent years fighting rebels, now he had to live with them? Even fight alongside them? It was unthinkable. Several members of his crew shared his sentiments, but there wasn't much they could do. The Empire, now renamed the Galactic Dominion, still had missions to be performed. There were some cleaning operations, a few Rebel cells that refused to acknowledge the merge and continued to fight for their ideal of restoring the Old Republic. There were still pirates and smugglers and rogue Imperial officers who dragged their ships out of service and fled to the outskirts of Dominion territory.

The years passed slowly. Jonathan tried to cope with his ship, the new government, and what's more, his leg. On most days, every step generated some amount of pain. He refused medicine pills, not wanting to get addicted to some narcotic. Bacta only soothed him for a little while, it never completely eradicated his pain. The energy he had once had was put into tolerating the pain and his passion and once-vibrant personality faded. His patriotism faded as well, and despite his earlier disgust at the combination of Rebel and Imperial forces, he accepted the Dominion well.

Nearly twelve years, at age fifty-two, after assuming command of the Vindicator,  Jonathan resigned as Captain. He took a post at the Kuat Drive Yards, working on plans for future vessels, just something to keep his mind entertained and his leg off the ground. Two years into his work at the KDY, Jonathan's old ship, the Avalon entered the Yards for decommission. Her components were to be scrapped and her hull recycled. Whatever couldn't be reused or recycled was to be placed on the next garbage ship for disposal, incinerated in some distant star. His heart went out to the ship that had served him so well, and Jonathan put in a plea to save it. He offered a considerable amount of money to purchase the ship, just what he had earned as wages as a Naval officer.

It took several weeks, but the Dominion's commander of the yards finally agreed. Jonathan continued to perform his duties and make designs for future ships, but on his off hours and at home, he began redesigning the interior of the Avalon while he formulated a plan for the ship. It began as a retirement home for him, and evolved into a business venture. The Venator-class Star Destroyer was a carrier, of both fighters and troops. It was designed to hold large numbers of people in relative comfort for long voyages across the galaxy. It seemed suitable, then, that the ship would be transformed into a hotel, a sort of cruise ship that offered lodging and entertainment to passengers who would be able to come and go as they pleased.

As the designs progressed, the interior of the large dorsal hanger bay became enlarged, and the small compartments built for fighters were merged to form docks that could hold fighters, shuttles, light and smaller medium freighters, yachts, and light transport ships. Vehicle bays became restaurants and holo-vid theaters, small quarters were enlarged to suites and large bunk areas were split up into individual rooms. Turbolaser bays which had held the hand-operated guns were transformed into observation bays, conference rooms, or for one of them, into a room with a large swimming pool.

With his position at the Kuat Drive Yards, Jonathan used the remaining money and power he had from his own earnings, and his family's fortune, to transform the ship. The work went slowly, taking years to complete. There were complications along the way. One more than one occasion, Jonathan was forced to defend his use of the Dominion's shipyards for his private usage. Finally, the commander of the yards gave up, and allowed him free reign of whatever he needed to complete the ship.

Four years into the venture, it was complete. The top-of-the-line warship built in the waning days of the Republic was transformed into a mobile hotel, a cruise liner to top all cruise liners. It had been painted as well, and a pattern of alternating red and white patches and stripes covered the ship, signifying its peaceful intentions. Its weapons had been all but removed, the turbolasers stripped completely, the point defense lasers removed, and torpedo tubes sealed up. The only remaining weaponry were a few civilian-grade laser cannons protecting the ship's vital parts, such as its hanger bays, and pair of tractor beams to guide ships in and out of the bay.

When the Avalon, now rechristened the Spirit of Avalon in honor of his tour aboard the ship, was complete, Jonathan retired from service in the Navy. He began hiring crew for his ship and to staff the hotel/cruise liner. He rented out space on his ship to several chefs and a bartender. Once he had gathered a crew, he launched the ship and business, named Avalon Pleasure Cruises. His early trips consisted mainly of Core worlds, venturing only in places protected by the navy that he trusted, the Navy of the Dragoon. As his success grew, however, and cries and requests for the ship to travel elsewhere led Jonathan to organize cruises to worlds further out, even into the middle and outer rims.

It was these later cruises that began the ship's popularity. Smugglers and criminals, seeking safe haven and a place to lay low, frequented the ship on the flights between outer rim worlds. The ship's tavern drew their interest, and word about it spread, making the "Wandering Corellian" one of the Outer Rim's most popular bars. The fame soon spread to the inner rim, and Avalon Pleasure Cruises became known as Avalon Pleasure Cruises: Home of the Wandering Corellian. The Spirit of Avalon drew large numbers of passengers on each of its cruises, increasing revenue and creating a profitable retirement venture for Jonathan.

As the "Wandering Corellian" grew in fame, Jonathan made a strategic move and transferred the bar's location from the innards of the ship to the secondary bridge of the ship, which had once been used for commanding starfighters. The new environment drew different types of people, and no longer was the bar filled with lower criminals and smugglers, but prominent businessmen and politicians visited the tavern. The new bar environment, however, disappointed some, and the old location was transformed into a sister-bar of the "Wandering Corellian," the "Wandering Ewok." It never gained the popularity of the "Wandering Corellian," but the "Wandering Ewok" maintained the ship's income from the lowlifes that had made its predecessor so popular throughout the galaxy.

Other: Jonathan resides aboard his ship, the Spirit of Avalon. He rarely ventures onto a planet's surface, simply content to live his life aboard his favorite ship.

Spirit of Avalon, a modified Venator-class Star Destroyer
Model: Venator Class Star Destroyer
Manufacturer: Rothana Heavy Engineering / Kuat Drive Yards
Designation: Capital Starship
Length: 1137 meters
Width: 548 meters
Height/depth: 268 meters
Maximum acceleration: 3,000 G
Maximum speed (atmosphere): 975 km/h
Crew: 1400
Passengers: 6000 (Maximum capacity)
Cargo Capacity: 20,000 metric tons
Consumables: 1 year
Hyperdrive Multiplier: Class 2
Hyperdrive Backup: Class 14
Hyperdrive range: 60,000 light-years (effective)
Power output: 3.6 × 1024 W
Power plant: Hypermatter annihilation reactor
Speed: 9 MGLT
Hull: 1,620 RU
Shields: Equipped with a Chempat-12 Shield System (roughly capable of withstanding an attack by a light cruiser, such as a Carrack)
Weapons: 10 Laser Cannons and 2 Tractor Beam Projectors.
Onboard Craft:

Overall Dark/Light Stance
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He's doing that again, the boy thought. It was terribly annoying when he did, as it made Elias unsure of what to do himself. His thoughts continued, He's just lying there, thinking. That's all he's doing, just thinking. The air was filled with silence, which made him uneasy. He wished to be doing something, or talking, not just thinking.
Character Development / Calista [NPC :: Echoes]
Last post by The Insane Admin -

Player Info
Name/Alias Jordan
Where are you from: Minnesota, USA
Age: 18
How did you find us: Current Member
Contact: Check the bottom of my posts.

Character Info
Character Name: Calista Raetha
Titles/Nicknames: Cali
Age: 13
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Place of Origin: Corellia
Class: Enforcer
Affiliation: Dragoon Knights
Rank: Initiate
Force Sensitive: Yes

Appearance: Calista is about at average height and weight for her age, standing at just over five feet, and weighing just under one hundred pounds. She dresses mostly in shirts and pants, but her clothes have a distinctive girlish style. She will often appear with a handkerchief wrapped around her head, especially when training or dancing. Other times, she wears her rich brunette hair in a pony tail or straight down.
Distinguishing Marks:
Handiness: Ambidextrous

Personality: Calista is friendly and outgoing, full of energy. She is usually nice to almost anyone she meets at first, and then adjusts her reactions in kind to what she has received. She enjoys friends and having fun, and she has a good sense of humor and from time to time makes jokes.

Calista is, like most female peers in her age group, concerned about her appearance. She has begun to use makeup and other cosmetics to improve her appearance. She exercises regularly too, though it is part of her training, but she takes advantage of the exercise to shape her body to her desire. Calista's clothing habits still reflect her tomboyish nature, and indeed she prefers shirts and pants over dresses and skirts. But her shirts and pants have become increasingly styled in a feminine variety.

Although Calista's training focuses on physical prowess, she cares for intelligence as well, and strives to perform well academically. She finds herself interested by a number of topics and participating in discussions as well. She is always open to learning more about a particular subject. One subject in particular that interests her is the opposite sex, the male gender.

Airyn Raetha - Father
Jadira Raetha - Mother
Elias Zenduu - Acquaintance
Jerek Zenduu - Friend whom she has a crush on

History: Calista Raetha was born to her parents, Airyn and Jadira Raetha. A member of the Corellian middle class, Cali, as her parents and later friends called her, had her needs sufficiently met as a child. She was a good student in school and enjoyed sports and other activities.

At an early age, Calista was involved with sports and activities. She joined the Junior Grav-Ball League when she was five and played for the next four years. She made many friends in the league and progressed through the teams (they were arranged by age group). In her last year of playing, her team went all the way to the regional competitions. Her parents were proud of her, but disappointed that she had chosen to relinquish the sport.

Instead of Grav-Ball, Calista became involved in dancing. She grew interested at around age eight, and started listening to Leap-jump. This progressed into dancing to the style of the same name, and by age ten she was showing off moves to her friends. The style involved improvisational dancing in which there were a number of acrobatic and powerful moves, requiring upper and lower body strength. One of the most popular was the ability to freeze in mid-move, holding a pose such as a headstand or seemingly uncomfortable position. As she grew older, Calista joined a professional dance team, the Live Wires, which toured the planet, performing for organizations all over Corellia.

It was through the Live Wires that she came to be a part of the Dragoon Knights. The Live Wires performed for a group of military personnel, including a member of the Dragoon Knights. After the show, when several officers came up to thank the dancers for their performance, the Knight startled her by announcing that she was attuned to the Force. He supposedly had felt her dancing through the Force, as clear as he could see it. The Knight contacted her surprised parents, who allowed her to leave Corellia and join the Dragoon Knights to train.

Once at the Encampment of the Dragoon Knights, the headquarters of the Knights, Calista met a boy named Jerek. After dazzling her with his Force powers in her first week, she grew attracted to him, and the pair have frequently spent time together and hung out. She wishes that the boy would be more than just friends with her, but whether that will occur is for time to tell.

Other: Since she has arrived at the Dragoon Knights Encampment, Calista has taking a liking to Jerek Zenduu, another initiate. She finds him physically and intellectually attractive and has a crush on him. She enjoys his company and conversing with him, and feels as though there could definitely be something more than friends to their relationship.
-Lightsaber Form: Form IV Ataru
-Force Powers: Force Push/Pull, Force Speed, Force Jump

Blue-bladed Lightsaber

Overall Dark/Light Stance
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"It was just over an hour when I looked last. That was when I left the training room," the boy stated.

There was something in his brother's eye as he stared at Jerek. He wasn't quite sure, it could be a deeper interest in him or just brotherly love. Maybe it was something about him that impressed his brother, making him look in awe at him. Whatever the case, it was starting to get awkward standing naked before his brother, even if he was a twin. Turning around, Jerek walked back to the two small lockers, one on either side of the ship, set just inside the main cabin. Opening the locker on the left side facing the cockpit, that was his, he stepped inside the tiny room.

He hadn't brought along all of his clothes, just enough for the trip, and a few days to spare. On the ship he didn't need to dress in the uniform or armor of the Dragoon Knights, and so the boy moved past those items. Deeper into the locker, against the back wall, hung a few shirts and pants. Below that was a drawer containing the rest of his clothes, like underwear and socks. A few pairs of shoes and boots, to accompany his uniform and armor, lined the wall to his right. Opening a drawer, Jerek pulled out a pair of underwear and started to get dressed. A blue shirt and brown pants soon followed. Rarely wearing socks onboard the ship, he skipped over that phase of his dressing routine. As dressed as he would be for the rest of the day, minus footwear, the boy reentered the main cabin.

A glance at his twin told the boy that Elias hadn't showered yet. He probably still wouldn't, at least until they got back to Coruscant and finished unloading. Jerek knew his brother liked to impress the female students at the Encampment, the Dragoon Knights' headquarters, and took the long way back from a training session on more than one occasion to show off his sweaty body and matted hair. Jerek, too, liked to show off, but in a different manner. He preferred to impress by his intellect or Force abilities instead of physical endurance.

A few months ago, a new initiate had come to the Knights. She couldn't have been older than twelve or thirteen, but Jerek had taken an instant liking to her at first sight. There was something about her eyes, her hair, the way she moved that captivated his thoughts and refused to release them. On her first day at the Encampment, Jerek had noticed her in the meal area, and offered to it with her. She agreed, but before he could sit down, someone bumped into him from behind, launching his tray into the air towards her. It was only a quick reaction and his level of comfort with telekinesis that prevented his lunch from showering the girl. Realizing the opportunity at hand, he returned the items to his tray, turned it back over and set it down on the table without any contact at all, simply using the Force. She seemed impressed, and the two had talked for a while. He had walked her back to her room and skipped the rest of the way down the hallways to his own.

If only she were here right now, he thought. The smell of her hair, the way she smiled when she talked to him or waved in the hall on her way to classes. It made Jerek feel as if he was in heaven. His entire body was filled with some sort of ecstasy that lingered even after she was gone. Even if they didn't have time to talk, just seeing her in the halls or waving at a distance filled his body with happiness that stayed with him for an hour or two. Without having much to do for the next half hour to an hour, the boy deeply wished that she would appear. It was not to be so, however. Nothing Jerek could do or say or thought, no matter how hard he tried, could bring him to see her any faster than the ship could fly. He very much doubted even the Force had the ability to bring her to him.

Dismayed, the boy flopped down on the bed/couch opposite his twin brother. He turned his head to look at his twin for a moment, then turned back to stare straight ahead. He didn't feel tired in the least, so he couldn't sleep. All he could do was lie there in silence, thinking about her, and wishing the ship would fly faster.
The boy shook his head as he watched his twin brother exit their makeshift training room. Elias could never understand why Jerek couldn't focus on his training, preferring to read or relax instead, or even work on things like Force powers. Oh, they're alright, he thought, but I can always rely on my lightsaber skills, I can't always rely on the Force. It was true, in a sense. The small amount of studying that he had done had revealed that some species were resistant or even immune to the effects of the Force, even when wielded by a skilled user.

That's why he had made it his focus to hone his saber skills to the best he could be. The quip Jerek had made earlier about leaving his side open came back to him, and nagged at him. Could it be true? Was he letting down his defenses? His form itself was a memorizing display of footwork, elegance and flow, an exposed weakness not only meant certain death to a skills opponent, but it was a flaw of his own skill with his lightsaber form. If his brother's assessment was correct, it was a grave mistake made on Elias' fault and needed correction as soon as possible.

Turning to face the fore of the ship, he took several strides that brought him near to the wall. Spinning around, his back to the ship's main cabin, Elias went through his moves. His feet danced as his hands, wrists and arms worked his lightsaber blade. Over, under, around, he dodged and lunged, parried and thrust. Finishing with a sweep of his arm through the air before him at about waist level, he imagined the waist of an enemy being cut cleanly in two. Bringing his arms down, he deactivated his blade at the same time, his breathing short and controlled. Having been aware of his motions throughout his practice seemed to reveal nothing to him. He sighed in a grim manner, disappointed at his inability to find his weakness.

At least they were headed back to the Dragoon Knights headquarters now. The twin brothers had been to Corulag to visit their parents, an event that occurred every year or so. It was a good experience, but it was always a relief to get back to the life of a Dragoon Knight. Structure and routine were comforting to Elias, though he knew his brother despised them. He shrugged, That's Jer for ya, he thought.

Placing his saber in the same storage cabinet his brother had set his, the twin headed back into the main cabin. He too felt the temperature change, though it was less noticeable as he had been the only person in the training room for the past half hour. Listening carefully, he could hear the water dripping from the hygiene pod, his brother must be finished with his shower. Instead of disrobing for his own, Elias sprawled out on his bunk, looking towards the front of the ship. From his position, he could catch periodic glimpses of stars streaming past the cockpit window, indicating that the ship was still in hyperspace.

A door hissed open, and Elias looked up. From the hygiene pod emerged his brother, Jerek. He was naked, without even a towel or bathrobe wrapped around him. He started towards the back of the ship until he saw his brother and froze. Jerek stared into his twin's eyes and a silent question was issued between them.

"What? It's not like I haven't seen you naked before," Elias chuckled, although it was comical to see his brother with no clothes, standing frozen in place with water dripping off his body. His twin brother always seemed a bit uncomfortable with being naked around anyone, even his brother. Though they always shed their clothes when they went swimming or took communal showers, Jerek seemed to require a short period of time to get comfortable. Whether it was the lack of clothes or the ability of others to see his body, Elias didn't know, but he knew that Jerek had some kind of fear or discomfort that took time to get over every time he was naked around someone.

"So have I," the naked twin retorted. He shrugged and water sprayed from his lightly tanned shoulder. Jerek's normally blond hair was colored brown by the saturation of water in his hair. He didn't dry off well, Elias thought, though that may have been the point. He knew Jerek liked to set the environmental settings warm and humid when he took a shower, drying might remove the opportunity he had to feel the coolness of water evaporating naturally from his skin. Whatever the reason, Elias was not too concerned about it. He lay back on his bunk again and stared at the ceiling of the cabin.

"So how long until we reach Coruscant again? Elias asked. His brother was obsessed with knowing the time and being able to judge how much time he would need for this or that task so he could schedule it accordingly. Contradictory to this, though, was the fact that Jerek was sometimes lazy and would perform tasks at the last minute instead of planning it out. Unlike Elias, who would, without over scheduling his time, be able to work on a large project little by little until it was done. Well, he thought, Even twins have their differences.
"Ha!" The voice shouted, proclaiming victory for the fifth time. The pair of blue-colored lightsabers deactivated with a simultaneous snap-hiss, but the air was still somehow resonating the grunts and clashes of blades that had stopped a minute prior. "Beat you again."

Humility was never his strong point, mused the recipient of the words spoken. His twin brother often spoke his mind without regard to the effect of the emotions of anyone else. Oh well, he thought, At least it wasn't a real battle.

It was true, the pair had only been sparring. In the aft of their small ship, the Dual Warrior, with the few crates of cargo and storage containers pushed to the walls, there was space enough for the twin brothers to train, often with each other. In the lightsaber duels, the stronger of the twins, his brother Elias, usually won out. Physically stronger, at least. The same, he mused again, could hardly be said for his intelligence. The more mentally-attuned of the twins, Jerek smirked inwardly, then brushed away his sarcastic thoughts. On the surface, his brother appeared to be much less intelligent than he, but Jerek knew his brother's strengths lay in other forms of intelligence than simple academics.

Rubbing the arm where his brother had made contact with his lower-powered lightsaber, Jerek reviewed the sparring match. He was breathing heavily, a sign of a good workout, but a glance at Elias produced a frown from his mouth. His brother seemed to show few signs of tiring, despite having dueled heartily for the past hour or so. It just went to show how well the Knights had trained him and improved Elias' stamina. Likewise, they had improved Jerek's own mental prowess and taught him numerous Force abilities that he had practiced during the course of the match.

He sighed, drawing the attention of his brother. "You don't seem tired at all. How do you do it?"

"How do you spend twenty minutes just thinking?" his twin shot back. It wasn't hostile, just a friendly poke between the two, like others they exchanged often.

"Maybe if you spent more time thinking, you wouldn't have left your right side open so often."

"So? I still covered it in time. And I beat you, so what's the problem?"

Jerek opened his mouth to return a comment, but closed it, shaking his head instead. It was no use arguing, Elias wouldn't see the fault. Hopefully his instructors would catch it the next time they were in training, real training, again. He spoke again, but not in the same conversation as before. "I'm gonna go take a shower, Eli. Wanna come?"

"Naw, I'll just keep practicing."

The boy shrugged and turned away from his twin. Hanging his saber in the storage cabinet fixed to the wall by the entrance, he exited the small bay and into the rest of the ship. The temperature was undoubtedly cooler, having had an absence of warm bodies spinning, dodging and running around each other. Jerek brought a hand up to his forehead and wiped away the beads of sweat that had gathered across his brow. 

Passing the small sleep/recreation cabin and the hygiene pod and food storage area, Jerek made his way to the front of the ship. Without taking a seat in one of the two chairs arranged in an elaborate system that allowed the pilot to be seated directly in front of the gunner, the boy crouched as he passed the folded-up gunner station. Looking over the panel, he spotted the display that indicated their remaining hyperspace time. Just over an hour to go. Good, he thought. Turning around, he headed back for the main cabin.

Reaching the sleep/rec area, the twin opened the storage locker he had slid out from under his bunk, which was converted in the waking hours to a sort of couch, with cushions on the back of the upper bunk. It was usually kept in that position, though, as there were two sets of bunks, one on either side of the ship. Focusing his attention back to the storage locker, the boy began to peel off his clothes. They clung to his skin and it took several minutes to remove them completely. Standing naked in the cabin, Jerek closed the locker and entered the small hygiene pod.

The door behind him slid shut, and the boy manipulated the controls next to the door. The humidity increased and the temperature rose again, making conditions comfortable for a shower. Another control turned the water on, and the room began to fill with the steam that the hot water gave off. Turning towards the shower, Jerek pressed his back against the wall, leaning forwards slightly on first contact with the cool metal surface, the wall having yet to warm up to the room's temperature. The next contact was better, and he leaned against the wall for a few moments, letting the water run, soaking up the steam and warmth. Finally the twin strode forward, opening the door to the small enclosure that circled the shower area, and stepped inside.

The water felt soothing against his skin, and he stood there for several minutes, enjoying the sensation. He had no rush, no time to worry about, and his brother had turned down his offer to shower as well, so he felt no obligation to begin washing. It seemed as though time had slowed down, and the only thing that mattered was the feeling of the warm water falling on his skin. The boy closed his eyes and let his thoughts leave his body, meditating as he stood in the shower with the warm water flowing over him. Peaceful, a disembodied thought entered his head, and the boy smiled in response. Peaceful, he agreed.