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Overkill (Star Wars/Worm)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Ravensdagger, Nov 26, 2019.

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  1. SolipsistSerpent

    SolipsistSerpent Endlessly Devouring

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    Because you need to be able to reliably instill great passion in every apprentice you teach or they'll be impotent Dark Side users. What can you do more reliably? Teach someone to love deeply and truly or make them full of fear, hate, and anger? The guys who went for negative emotions could teach far more apprentices of any power and, over time, muscled out other kinds of Sith. Of course, they're all loonies, but you must admit they regularly produce incredible force users.

    At least, that's my theory.
     
  2. forrest

    forrest Retired Philosopher

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    So... Jedi are just lazy/efficient?

    Well, from one perspective anyway.

    IMO, it's stronger in the long-term to build a fan than to build bellows. To me, the dark side is like a bellows. Sure, you might get a large bellows, but the volume of air is always limited by the bellows and only flows (outwards) on the exhale. Bellows are still better than fans in certain situations, and the metaphore breaks down from other perspectives.

    But if you build a fan, then the air never has to stop flowing.

    Continuous but diminished versus discrete but enhanced.
     
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  3. SolipsistSerpent

    SolipsistSerpent Endlessly Devouring

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    Ah, I wasn't discussing Light Side users at all, actually. Just the reason Dark Side users tended to fixate on specific emotions.
     
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  4. Threadmarks: Chapter Twenty-Six
    Ravensdagger

    Ravensdagger Getting sticky.

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    Chapter Twenty-Six

    Taylor’s plan was, in a word, stupid. She knew it, her crew knew it, and even HK-47 knew it, though he seemed more than willing to go through with it despite its utter stupidity. Stupidity that ended with her being squeezed into the back of a flying taxi with eight droids and a whole lot of bugs.

    “Comment: Suicidal merely means the chances of success are low, and failure means avoiding any consequences.”

    “Unless you have something smart to say, HK-47, then shut it,” she said.

    Next to her, R3-C2 warbled and chirped. The six battle droids, each one carrying a large backpack, shifted a little. Though they were probably only moving to counter the way the taxi shifted beneath them.

    “Suggestion: Learn to stop questioning your betters you wheeled garbage disposal unit or I’ll see about turning you into an actual trash heap. Comment: The irony would be enjoyable.”

    Taylor’s crack team wasn’t full of team players, or crack anything. Still, she figured that she had a decent chance at succeeding. Her plan reminded her a whole lot of hitting the PRT headquarters in Brockton Bay, only this time the headquarters belonged to an interplanetary slave-owning corporation that made enough money to subsidise the creation of entire factory-planets.

    That was--if her plan succeeded--going to change.

    Their flying taxi-van came to a smooth stop and the droid pilot at the front turned around and spoke to them in basic. Taylor stepped out, R3-C2 on her heels. The Battledroids moved out next, keeping to a tight formation with their blasters pointing to the ground. Then HK-47 shot the driver’s head off and stepped out as well.

    The taxi spun out of control and flew off into a building a dozen floors down.

    “Really HK?” she asked.

    “Justification: He asked for a tip.”

    The Czerka headquarters on Anoat was an imposing building. Probably the single largest skyscraper Taylor had ever seen, and certainly the largest on the planet. It wasn’t pretty though. The tower was a large oval with sharpened sides rising up to a fine point with a hole through the last dozen floors at the top like a gigantic eye. They had obviously read the evil mega corporation textbook.

    The landing area they had been brought to was on, according to the large stencil on the ground, the one hundred and twentieth floor. The server room they wanted to get to was eighty-eight floors up. The office of the CEO was, of course, all the way up on the three hundredth floor.

    They had their work cut out for them.

    “Try talking first,” Taylor said as she started walking ahead. She made sure her mask was on tight even as the first security team moved onto the landing pad to see what was going on. Two droids that looked to be mass-produced Czerka models and a single human in a grey uniform.

    “Greetings: Hello,” HK-47 said. He raised a blaster pistol and took off the heads of the two security droids with two shots that came so close together they might as well have been fired at the same time.

    “S-stop!” the human guard said.

    Taylor didn’t oblige. He moved into her range and his demeanor shifted as she took over his body. She had him turn around and face the entrance while she paused over the security droids. “Are they worth looting?” she asked.

    “Suggestion: Looting is usually carried out after the assault is done. These useless meatbag-designed piles of scrap are only armed with stun weapons.”

    Taylor tore the gun out of one security droid’s hands, then tossed it to HK-47. “Use it,” she said.

    “Complaint: This is unfair treatment.”

    “Now you can shoot the civilians without me getting angry,” she said as she picked up the other blaster, and reholstered her own pistol. She was beginning to agree with HK-47’s frequent assertions that the only good weapon was more weapons. Unfortunately she only had three pistols on her person at that moment, two in thigh holsters and a third tucked into the thickly padded jacket she had purchased for the day.

    An extra rifle or two wouldn’t hurt, she reasoned. Her battle droids had their small rifles and, at HK-47’s insistence, a small compact pistol tucked in the small of their backs which they could grab with either arm.

    HK-47 himself was... Taylor eyed the starship canon jutting over his shoulder and all the way down to his shin, then the large rifle slung cross-ways to it. He had smaller rifles clamped to his legs and blaster pistols tucked under his arms. She suspected he still had a thermal detonator hidden away somewhere too.

    And now he had a stun rifle.

    “Let’s get moving,” Taylor said through the guard’s mouth. The less her voice was heard the less likely it could be used to track her. The battle droids had cheap long coats slung over their skeletal frames, with hoods pulled up over their robotic faces and even HK-47 had a long trenchcoat on, one with many pockets that she suspected would soon be filled with purloined weapons.

    They moved into the lobby to find a large room with a security desk blocking access to a central shaft where Taylor could just barely see the levels above and below across from a set of rails. It reminded her a little of the plaza at some open-concept shopping malls, but from the plans she had seen the shaft rose two dozen stories.

    “Please pass through the security scanner,” a young woman said. She had the fixed smile of a retail employee as she gestured to a metallic archway flanked by a pair of security droids.

    “No,” she told HK-47 who was raising his new toy.

    “Comment: Spoilsport.”

    Taylor walked through the security gate right behind the guard she had taken over and ignored the alarms that started blaring after she passed.

    “Um, miss, if you have... any... weapons...” the woman said, her smile growing decidedly queasy as Taylor, who wasn’t bothering to hide her weapons, was followed by her battle droids. “Um.”

    “Leave,” Taylor said.

    She noticed the security droids starting to move and sighed when HK-47 shot them both with the stun rifle, then, upon seeing it do little to the droids, bashed their heads in with the weapon’s stock.

    “Hurry up,” she called after her droid friend.

    Taking the elevators--the turbolifts--would have been a whole lot faster.

    Instead they took the stairs. Two of her battle droids carried R3-C2 while the flaps of their backpacks opened to unleash a swarm of butterfly-like bugs that flew to every camera they could reach.

    Stairs were nice, didn’t stop working, and weren’t controlled by anyone. Six flights up she was beginning to change her opinion on stairs. By the tenth she ordered a stop. Her legs were burning and the security guard she was still puppeting was red in the face and about to pass out.

    “We’re taking the turbolift from here,” she said.

    “Comment: Weak.”

    Taylor opened the door a crack, let a few bugs fly in to make sure the area was clear, then moved in. The floor they were on was an office space, rows of cubicles where wide-eyed workers watched them pass.

    A manager-looking sort stood in their path. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked.

    Then he too was in Taylor’s range.

    “They have right to be here,” her guard said.

    “They do?” the manager asked.

    “Yes.”

    It was the most awkward puppet show Taylor had ever seen, and she was the one with her hands in the puppets.

    “I come with,” the manager said and followed after them as they moved deeper on the floor. They found a quiet spot with some bathrooms and Taylor sighed.

    “HK-47, follow these two into the bathroom, try out your new toys.”

    “Affirmation: With pleasure!”

    A minute and two dull whumps of a stun rifle later they were moving again. She sent a few bugs into the turbolift and set them over the rather obvious cameras, then moved in with her entire group. R3-C2 navigated the menu to get them to the right floor.

    The turbolift hummed along and Taylor expected it to stop suddenly at any moment, but to her surprise they arrived at the right floor with no fuss.

    “Comment: Czerka’s security has improved considerably. I haven’t killed a single employee in five minutes. Perhaps they learned something?”

    “We’ll see,” Taylor said. She tapped R3-C2 on the head. “You know where to go?”

    The droid chirped something that sounded more or less like an affirmative and started rolling ahead of them. Taylor and her other droids followed. Soon enough they reached a pair of thick doors that blocked their path. R3-C2 warbled at them.

    “Observation: Security doors. Locked, obviously.”

    “Damn,” Taylor said. There was a sort of intercom next to the door, but she didn’t like her chances of bluffing her way through. “Okay, everyone back up. HK-47, that canon of yours, think it’ll do something to that door?”

    The droid looked at the door for a long time, then R3-C2 beeped and chirped. “Response: It is likely that the door will fail after repeated barrages. But as the droid suggests it would take some time.”

    “How about the walls around the door?”

    HK-47 reached over his shoulder, grabbed the cannon and brought it around. Taylor ducked around the nearest corner before he opened fire. Even shielded, she felt the rise in temperature as he fired away. Then the assassin droid stopped.

    “Statement: Path cleared.”

    The hole he had left wasn’t exactly pretty, but it was big enough to walk through. Taylor sent some bugs zipping through and deeper into the sealed off section only to find panicking personnel and a few security droids ambling about aimlessly.

    “Good work. Droids ahead, and civilians. HK-47, you’re in first. Battledroids one through three, you go in after him. R3-C2, you’re with me, the rest come after, watch out backs.”

    She waited for the chorus of ‘Roger-Roger’ to end before she started in.

    The security in the server rooms was inversely impressive to that of the blast doors. The only resistance they met were half a dozen security droids that charged at them while firing madly at the first target they encountered and one brave employee with a holdout pistol.

    Stun shots didn’t do anything but annoy HK-47 and the idiot with the holdout spent more time choking on bugs than firing. Taylor even got to test her new stun rifle only to find that it lacked any satisfying kick to it.

    She wasn’t going to admit that to HK-47 even as she slung the rifle over her shoulder and pulled out a pistol. “R3-C2, lead the way.”

    The server rooms were impressively huge. Towering banks of glowing machines with thousands of ports and displays and little whirling fans that make her coat flap around her distractingly and made sending bugs around a chore.

    R3-C2 whistled something and moved over to a small control centre in the middle of the stacks of servers. A port moved out of the droid’s casing and plugged itself into the bank of computers.

    A moment later the screens before them lit up. Some had camera feeds of slave pens, others factory floors. Maps and blueprints flashed by at lightning speeds on some screens and reams of data moved on others.

    “You’re really digging into them, aren’t you?” Taylor asked.

    The little droid whistled.

    “Hey HK-47, is it customary to name a droid? Something other than a serial number?”

    “Comment: Some sentimental fleshlings have done so.”

    Taylor grinned and gave the droid next to her’s dome an affectionate pat. “I think I’m going to call you Tattletale,” Taylor said. “Now, start spilling some secrets.”

    ***
    Taylor may have watched the Matrix at some point.

    Also, check out Cinnamon Bun on Royal Road! It's... nothing like this story, at all.
     
  5. Evilhippy

    Evilhippy The Cum Lord

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    Somewhere, Lisa is displeased and she doesn't know why...
     
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  6. Scopas

    Scopas Know what you're doing yet?

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    I love how Taylor is being slowly corrupted by HK-47. Of course, given that she's the Queen of Escalation, it might be less corruption and more a social excuse to cut loose.
     
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  7. ArKFallen

    ArKFallen _____

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    It is things like this that help keep HK's loyalty.

    Wow, I thought Tattletale and her were friends :confused:. She just named a short, wide, chrome-dome that she can't understand after her so I guess I was wrong. ;)
     
  8. Ancalador

    Ancalador Know what you're doing yet?

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    Statement: I do so love having a competent master after all the worthless meatbags I've had to suffer my way through.
     
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  9. Knightfall

    Knightfall Nui Harime lover, Cynic, and Archivist

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    As I said in the spacebattles thread Taylor really misses her platonic life partner.
     
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  10. Threadmarks: Chapter Twenty-Seven
    Ravensdagger

    Ravensdagger Getting sticky.

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    Chapter Twenty-Seven

    Tattletale, Taylor realized, was a very clever little droid. Oh sure, she... It couldn’t communicate with anything beyond beeps and chirps, but she still managed to convey some emotions through those, enough that Taylor could grasp when the R3 unit was happy or excited or disappointed.

    The droid’s giddy chirps as she dug into the Czerka headquarter’s data banks were a little worrisome, but Taylor suspected they weren’t all bad.

    Next to the panel that R3 had plugged herself into, stood HK-47. The old droid was clicking away at a terminal with mounting glee. “Observation: the entire facilities security apparatus has come online.”

    “So, we’ve been spotted. Honestly it’s a bit late for them to start acting,” Taylor said.

    “Negative: The security droids have been ordered to apprehend anyone with security clearances. The higher the clearance the higher the target’s priority. Those without any prior permissions entered into the system are seemingly immune to the security droids.”

    Taylor’s mind went blank for a moment, then she turned to Tattletale. “Is that your doing?” she asked.

    The R3 chirped happily.

    “Good work,” she said. “That’ll win us some time. Have you found anything interesting in there?”

    An affirmative beep-boop was her reply.

    Taylor sighed. She was going to have to learn droid after she learned basic. “If you find anything really juicy try to spread it out of this building. HK, we’re going to move on. I want to have a chat with the people in charge of this place.”

    Tattletale beeped and chirped a few times.

    “Translation: the ambulatory trashcan has discovered the location of the CEO of this branch of Czerka. All the elevators leading to the topmost floor have been cleared for our personal use. He is guarded by some flesh and bone guards, which means we might have to fight our way over. These guards are Mandalorian mercenaries. Comment: Finally a challenge.”

    “You can tell me about it on the way up.” She gestured to three of her battle droids. “You, stay here and listen to R3. Tattletail, try to make it out of here in one piece. You know where to meet us after.”

    The R3 whistled in agreement.

    Taylor checked her weapons. She still had a couple of handheld blasters, a rifle and her rather useless stun rifle. She needed some sort of close-range option that would work on mechanical foes. Organic enemies were a non-issue.

    “Right, let’s go.”

    HK-47 picked up his snub-fighter canon from where he had left it to cool off and barked something to the remaining battle droids. “Status: Ready for more!”

    Taylor snorted and shook her head, but she still led the charge out of the server room, her bugs darting out ahead to find anyone that was trying to be clever. Fortunately, it seemed as if Czerka employees weren’t paid enough to stick around when their own security droids were assaulting them with stun rounds and when the entire building was starting to look like a warzone.

    Passing by a squadron of Czerka security droids that completely ignored them was a little strange, but she could live with it.

    They reached the elevators and Taylor stared at the panel covered in hundreds of buttons for a moment. She didn’t know how to read the numbers in Basic yet. “Ah,” she said.

    HK-47 pressed one of them and it lit up a moment before the door slid shut.

    “Thanks.”

    “Statement: It was my pleasure, mistress.”

    She eyed the droid. “You’re being polite.”

    “Comment: You are providing me with top-tier entertainment. It is the least I can do. But no worries, the moment I find myself craving more action I will return to being utterly belligerent and unhelpful.”

    “Ah, good, I was worried you might have gotten a knock on the head that fixed you somehow.”

    The doors opened and Taylor waved her battle droids into a large lobby. Unlike the lobby areas below, this one had walls lined in dark woods, the floor had a thick carpet over it, and the area was decorated with large plinths atop which sat various weapons in glass cases. Little plaques next to them probably told anyone able to read Basic a whole lot about the weapons.

    Taylor sent her swarm out, but found a whole lot of nothing. “We’re clear,” she said as she lowered her rifle. “This place looks like a museum.”

    HK47 walked to one of the plinths and stared at a small holdout pistol within. It was bright chrome and looked almost organic. “Assessment: A Nabooian Sun Praiser. A prototype of a popular weapon from some centuries ago. Valuable, but doubtlessly not as good as a more modern weapon.”

    “So, these aren’t all Czerka weapons?” she asked as she crossed the room and eyed both blaster rifles, pistols and even what looked like melee weapons. Some were in rough shape, others pristine condition. She didn’t doubt that they were all collector’s items meant to impress people on the way to meeting the local CEO.

    “Negative: Some of these are definitely Czerka trash, but most are, or were, quality weapons at one time or another. Perhaps we should start our own collection with a generous donation from this one?”

    Taylor shook her head. “That sounds like your kind of hobby, but there’s only so much room on the Atlas.” Her eyes were pulled to the side and she found herself staring at a strange weapon in particular. She couldn’t quite work out what it was, but something in her gut told her it was dangerous, and also beautiful. “What kind of gun is that?” she asked.

    “Commentary: that is a lightsaber. The traditional weapon of both the Sith and the Jedi. An elegant weapon, for a more barbaric time.”

    “How does it work?”

    “Suggestion: Perhaps a few decades spent with intensive schooling would allow you to understand the function of so complex a weapon. Though, if you merely want to unlimb yourself, then the lightsaber is a simple enough tool of destruction. Press the activator on the side and a blade of coherent superheated plasma will allow you to cut nearly anything apart. It is most satisfactory.”

    “Sounds pretty handy,” Taylor said.

    “Qualification: It sounds like a good method by which to lose a hand.”

    Taylor smiled at the jab, her robotic arm twitching by her side. It was a little too late for that. She eyed the lightsaber a little more, then walked on. It was pretty, but it wasn’t for her.

    And she had bigger things to worry about.

    The door at the far end of the room, the one that should have led to the CEO’s quarters, burst open and a security droid flew out, its chassis smoking and sporting a few holes that she knew weren’t part of its design.

    The droid crashed to the floor, skid back a ways with a shower of sparks, then after a single futile attempt to stand up, died.

    Taylor stepped to the side and behind one of the artistic plinths just as a large man stomped into the lobby. Seven feet tall and encased in shiny armour, the brick of a man stood at the front of the room and scanned it. His face wasn’t visible behind his T-slitted helmet, but that didn’t matter. Taylor could tell that he was taking in every inch of the area.

    “I’m afraid your little heist ends here,” he said as he shifted the large rifle tucked up against his chest.

    “Heist?” Taylor asked.

    “Translation: The mandalorian meatbag thinks that we are here to rob them.”

    Taylor nodded and turned back to the so-called mandalorian. “We’re not here to steal things,” she said in halting Basic.

    She ignored the crunch of glass as HK-47 broke into one of the displays and picked up a handgun from its display. “Observation: Decent condition. Well Maintained. And it works with the powerpacks I am carrying.”

    Taylor sighed. “We’re here to talk to the CEO,” she said.

    The Mandalorian shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “You could make it easy for the both of us if you turned off your droids and surrendered.”

    “I don’t think I can do that,” Taylor said.

    “Good. It wouldn’t have been fun.” The huge man pulled out a gun and Taylor only just managed to roll to the side to avoid a searing red beam that sliced past the ground where she’d been standing.

    “Amusement: This is why I enjoy Mandalorians,” HK-47 said.

    Taylor spun around and placed her back against one of the plinths. “Oh, really?” she asked.

    “Statement: Yes. They understand the joys of proactive conflict resolution.”

    Her bugs noted three more people in similarly bulky armour slip into the room. One of them even did a somersault and hid behind a pillar before unslinging a rifle and checking out the room.

    Her battle droids spread out and tried to use some cover as they fired in the... general direction of the enemy. If this was what they could do when HK-47 improved them, Taylor noted, then she feared what they could do when they were unupgraded.

    Taylor carefully placed a second blaster in her robotic arm, then tested the trigger before flicking off the safety. Going guns akimbo was almost always a bad idea.

    She rolled out from behind her cover, both arms springing forwards. Twin blasts fired out of her blasters, racing across the room with pinpoint accuracy to... harmlessly bounce off the helmets of two of the Mandalorians sticking out of cover. She fired a few more bug-guided shots that sent the mercenaries scurrying for shelter then moved behind a thicker piece of cover.

    “What kind of armour are they using?” she asked in plain English.

    “Answer: It’s called Beskar,” Hk-47 said.

    “... I want some.”

    “Leading Statement: a new chassis made of Beskar would improve my performance considerably.”

    Taylor rolled her eyes, then winced as repeated hammer-blows hit the pillar she was using as cover, sending bits of whatever passed as concrete flying. She saw one of her droids explode and another was riddled with blaster fire when it moved out of cover to fire back. The weight of fire from their end of the room was quickly shrinking.

    Then her bugs felt a dozen security droids running into the room behind the Madalorians. For a moment she hoped it was over, but they lined up at the far end of the room and let loose with guns that were definitely not meant to stun anyone.

    She sighed and brought her bugs down on the mercenaries.

    For all their pretty armour, they still had gaps between the plates, and their necks were exposed enough that her creepy crawlies could creep and crawl into their noses.
    One of them dropped a smoke grenade of sorts on the ground, which did... absolutely nothing to Taylor.

    Taylor stuck her head out, intending to take a few potshots aimed at the gaps in their armour, but the droids started moving up while firing and she had to duck back to keep her head.

    “This is annoying!” she called out to HK-47.

    “Query: Permission to eliminate the enemy threat with gratuitous violence?”

    “Don’t kill the mercenaries if you can avoid it,” she said. “Otherwise, have fun.”

    The assassin droid pulled his cannon from over his shoulder. “Acknowledgement: I most certainly will.”

    Taylor waited until the population of droids had thinned somewhat before running out of cover. She aimed for the part of the room she had been in before. The plan was simple. She would circle around the room, pull out that stun gun of hers, and see if it worked when fired point blank into the mercenary’s soft bits.

    She only made it halfway when the plinth next to her blew up, scattering glass and debris all around her a moment before one of the security droids stumbled ahead of her.

    She had been in the act of reaching for her stun rifle. Her blaster pistols were in their holsters.

    The droid’s rifle rose up, its muzzle coming to rest pointing right towards her face. “Surrender!” the droid demanded.

    Taylor’s eyes dipped down to something shiny and metallic just before her.

    The lightsaber.

    The droid’s finger twitched.

    Taylor rolled forwards, organic hand squeezing around the foot-long metal pipe.

    A bright blue beam of something hot and fierce tore out of the hilt with a snap-hiss.

    The droid’s bisected chassis fell apart next to her.

    Taylor eyed the glowing sword. “I can work with this,” she said.

    ***

    Woo!

    Ben a bit since I worked on this one!
     
  11. Evilhippy

    Evilhippy The Cum Lord

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    Be afraid, she has a light saber.
     
  12. Anti-No

    Anti-No Versed in the lewd.

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    The real reason force users tends to use lightsabers: Both sides of the force likes those weapons.

    Oh, and the dark side of the force that's following Taylor around like a puppy right now wants her to look the part. I'm just waiting for the "Darth Khepri. No, I'm not a Jedi." comments.
     
  13. CelestialNorth

    CelestialNorth Getting out there.

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    Oh Taylor, you just know the exact path to escalate every single situation, don't you?
     
    Last edited: Jun 20, 2020
  14. Mr. Cloak

    Mr. Cloak Possibly Outerwear, advocate for Blank rights.

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    Be afraid- she now has a lightsaber.
     
  15. Evilhippy

    Evilhippy The Cum Lord

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    ...
     
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  16. Mr. Cloak

    Mr. Cloak Possibly Outerwear, advocate for Blank rights.

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    It had to be said twice.

    They should be THAT AFRAID.

    ...

    And yes, I am doing a bit.
     
  17. Major Session

    Major Session Do it for the lewd.

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    Ah, Star Wars cybersecurity. Effective as ever I see. Do they just not bother or are they just that terri-bad at it? Surely the Astro-mech manufacturers can't be that much further ahead of everyone else at the slicing game? Otherwise wouldn't they just start selling software that blocks their own methods and make bank on both ends?

    All well, it's so perfectly canon I could shed a tear.

    Perks up. Could this be?

    Statement: We should return once we have acquired a larger and more suitble vessel.

    It is! Oh happy days... Wait, Taylor no! Go back, don't ignore the glory of a lightsaber! You're the first person pragmatic enough to get one to use it as a rapier!

    As an aside, she really should think about upgrading her arm. A hidden blaster, grappling hook, and other accessories would be right up your alley. Maybe even a knife/sharp edge of some kind for the real gritty CQC. Then again, lightsaber.

    This is the way.

    Do I spy HK-47's first upgrade in this fic? I think I do and it shall be glorious! Now he'll be able to pull an IG-11 and tank shots while going ham on his foes. He'll be pinning about guns akimbo not giving a single fuck while he mows through waves of enemies in no time!

    You'd think they'd be air-tight since space combat is so often a thing. I mean, the name of the series is Star Wars for crying out loud! Be prepared for a vacuum you morons! It'll protect you from bugs up the nose too.

    Yes! Happy days! Taylor, I'm so proud of you.
     
  18. Krantz

    Krantz Know what you're doing yet?

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    even better than before, most foes capable to do so will try to engage her in melee thinking to fight a normal jedi/sith and will immediately end up as puppets..... holy crap! I just realized that for the first time ever HK47 is completely right, she turns her foes into living meatbags!
     
  19. werky123

    werky123 Getting some practice in, huh?

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    Oh god, Taylor with a lightsaber. I’m not sure if I should be more worried for her or the galaxy...definitely the galaxy.
     
    Major Session and Evilhippy like this.
  20. Anti-No

    Anti-No Versed in the lewd.

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    A jedi would probably draw their blade while stepping closer to a Sith that has an absolutely humongous dark side presence... then suddenly the force starts screaming at them to NOT get any closer, no matter what. Extreme danger!!!

    I'm sure nobody will misunderstand those signals. Nope.
     
    Last edited: Jun 20, 2020
  21. Evilhippy

    Evilhippy The Cum Lord

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    You know that was one part of Star Wars that never really got addressed in the movies. Vacuum and all it's dangers. Just kinda glossed over it really. Even when they shouldn't have like when the falcon was inside the asteroid worm thing. It's mouth was open, vacuum should have killed everything inside it.
     
  22. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    Silly rabbit, everyone knows that vacuum isn't dangerous. I mean, look:



    Perfectly safe.
     
  23. Evilhippy

    Evilhippy The Cum Lord

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    Jesus, I tried to forget that stupid scene.

    I must have forced my mind to to go "lalalalala it never happened!"
     
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  24. Nyx

    Nyx Getting sticky.

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    Please no. Those movies dont exist. They are just some fanfiction.
     
  25. Amrynel

    Amrynel Wat.

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    "Darth Khepri" now has a lightsaber with a blue blade. It's the little touches like this that I enjoy.

    Jedi Investigator: "I sense.... the Force is laughing at us? Why is the Force laughing at us?"
     
  26. Jacob Tibbs

    Jacob Tibbs Getting out there.

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    Death from vacuum is from suffocation, and your body should experience severe full body bruising, including your lungs.

    Its not necessarily fatal though. A relatively brief exposure to vacuum is certainly survivable. if you could somehow not suffocate in a vacuum in the 2-3 minutes it would take to pass out due to lack of air thanks to force shenanigans, the next physical cause of death would likely be due to overheating. Your body produces around 100 watts of heat at rest. panicking because you spaced would probably double that.

    At that rate you would probably star suffering from Heat Stroke in about 18 minutes, killed by your own bodies inability to cool itself in a vacuum.

    So if you glued an oxygen mask to someones face and kicked them out an airlock, they would die covered in black and blue bruises in about 25 minutes from cooking like a baked potato in their own heat.
     
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