"Sir, we're back from our diplomacy missions, Sgt Dorne crit and got us more of that epic stuff for the reusable medpacs." Aric Jorgan yelled through the common room as he boarded the Nostromo. "WE WERE SUCCESSFUL IN OUR MISSION AGAINST THE IMPERIALIST AGGRESSORS OF THE EMPIRE SIR." Forex was happy to report. "We didn't actually fight the empire. We just kind of... What did we do? Does anyone even read the crew skill mission prompts?" Jorgan asked, mostly to himself. "WE WERE SUCCESSFUL IN OUR MISSION DEFENDING HUMAN FREEDOM AGAINST COBRA, A RUTHLESS TERRORIST ORGANIZATION DETERMINED TO RULE THE WORLD!" Forex added. "You downloaded the Lieutenant's GI JOE cartoon collection to your hard drive, didn't you, Forex?" Jorgan rolled his eyes. "AFFIRMATIVE. AND TRANSFORMERS AS WELL. I AM FULLY UPDATED WITH ALL INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY OF HASBRO, INC. PLEASE STAND BY WHILE I TRANSFORM TO DESTROY THE EVIL FORCES OF THE DECEPTICONS." Forex demanded. "You're not a *********** autobot, and I'm disconnecting your patriot circuit. It's driving me up the wall." Jorgan growled. "Lieutenant? Are you here?" Sgt. Dorne had the presence of mind to ask. "I'M IN THE CARGO HOLD!" Havoc1 shouted back. Aric Jorgan strolled gingerly over to the cargo hold, took one bold step across the threshold, then immediately turned 180 degrees and averted his eyes, blushing like a school child. "Sir, why are you naked and handcuffed to the bulkhead?" He asked. "Because the damn restraining bolt on the protocol droid never deactivated, sergeant." Havoc1 rolled her eyes. "Sir? What... Why?" "That information is on a need-to-know basis, sergeant." Havoc1 sneered. "Should I go get Dorne? She's a woman..." Jorgan replied. "I'm well aware of that, sergeant. Was this your first time noticing I'm a woman as well?" Havoc1 rolled her eyes. "No sir." Jorgan replied. "And you've seen a nude woman before, haven't you sergeant?" Havoc1 sneered. "Yes sir... Just, never my CO, sir." Jorgan admitted. "Are you entertaining any thoughts of taking advantage of me in my compromised position, sergeant?" Havoc1 asked. "SIR! NO SIR! NEVER!" Jorgan was swift to reply. "So you won't admit you have feelings for me then." Havoc1 concluded. "Sir, is this an appropriate time for this conversation?" Jorgan asked. "GEE I DON'T KNOW, ARIC. I'M CERTAINLY NOT GOING ANYWHERE. WILL YOU GET OVER YOUR SCHOOLBOY SHAME AND GET OVER HERE AND UNCUFF ME YOU *******? IT'S LIKE 60 *********** DEGREES ON THIS SHIP, MY ******S COULD CUT DURASTEEL." Havoc1 shouted. "Sir... I... noticed, sir." Jorgan hurried to free his CO. "You can touch them, if you like." Havoc1 grinned. "I would never, sir..." Jorgan stuttered, releasing her from the handcuffs. "Yea I know. That's how I wound up handcuffed naked in my own ship in the first place." Havoc1 grumbled.

i think its ****in hilarious.

we have a saying in my guild, "This is Darth Spacebar of the Dark Council..."

THURSDAY AFTERNOON WEIRD SEX CROSSOVER Servant One: The Wrath was on the holo with her galpal Havoc1. Servant Two: Talking about boys! Servant One: Yuck. Servant Two: Oh come on. You don't think women talk about sex the way men do? Servant One: I dunno. Servant Two: Really? Servant One: Well, I guess they do. Servant Two: No, they don't. They're actually way worse. Servant One: Oh, and you know that how? Servant Two: I have friends that are women. Servant One: What, like *** hags? Servant Two: Hey that reminds me, that gaydar is still sitting in the cargo bay. Servant One: We don't need to go there. Servant Two: You don't need to call my ladyfriends *** hags, captain closet. Servant One: Look, its going to be a boring episode. Chicks just talk about stuff like fashion and celebrity gossip. They're boring. "So I don't give a damn about fashion or celebrity gossip." Havoc1 was saying. "You don't care about fashion? But you're so thin and pretty. You'd look really good in one of Vette's little black dresses. She's about your size." The Wrath insisted. "Psh. I like the uniform. Besides, what have I got to show off?" Havoc1 deflected. "Honey, just because you can't break a B cup on the most pregnant day of your life doesn't mean you don't have nothing to work with. You've got a pretty rockin pair of hips." The Wrath explained. "Do guys notice that?" Havoc1 asked. "You're the one who has 'cowgirl' printed across your ***, you tell me." The Wrath jeered. "I suppose you're right. I dunno. Maybe this weekend. You got a date for me?" Havoc1 asked. "Uhm... did you even check your email? Look at the Solokcupid link I sent you." The Wrath insisted. "Hold on let me pull it up... Oh wow. He's totally a hottie. I am gonna make that boy happy to be alive if he walks into my gunsights." Havoc1 replied. "Easy, sweetheart- That's Cipher 9, Imperial Intelligence. Those guys don't mess around. He's a professional seducer." The Wrath explained. "I wanna be seduced!" Havoc1 returned. "Well yea, I do too, but I want to be seduced, and then called back. I'd hate to be seduced just once, you know." The Wrath said. "Huh?" Havoc1 asked. "I just don't want you to get hurt, hun. Love is a battlefield and stuff." The Wrath explained. "Love is a battlefield? Seriously? **** that noise. I'm Republic spec force. My *********** guns have guns on them and I'm wearing heavy armor. What's he gonna bring to the table, one of those Imperial standard issue czerka garbage rifles? Bring it. I was the only girl in my class in the academy, I know what locker room dialog sounds like, hot boys don't scare me." Havoc1 huffed. "Whatever. You want me to put a call into intelligence? I've kind of got a lot of pull in the Empire as the Emperor's Wrath. I get to pass Go and collect 200 dollars and stuff around here." The Wrath asked. "Do you have enough pull to make him show up to my door wearing nothing but a bowtie and a rose between his teeth and a case of beer under one arm and a roll of condoms under the other?" Havoc1 asked. "Wow. You don't pull any punches, huh?" Wrath asked. "That's how we do in Havoc squad." "So What kind of date you want to go on? Should I have him sent to Nar Shaddaa or something?" The Wrath asked. "Just get him somewhere I can fire a concussive round at him, I'll take care of the rest." Havoc1 replied. "What?" "You know, that kinetic round that I shoot at people to knock them out." Havoc1 explained. "Why are you gonna try to give him a concussion?" The Wrath asked. "Because I want to tie him up and put him in my cargo hold, and interrogate him." Havoc1 explained. "..." "And then he seduces me and escapes. But you know, we probably have really hot sex while he's tied to the chair or something." Havoc1 explained. "What the hell is wrong with you?" The Wrath asked. "What? Is that weird? Everyone always says that Imperial Intelligence are these epic womanizing seducers, I want to see if one of them can get out of a bind like that. Is that like a creepy fetish thing?" Havoc1 replied. "Hold on. Let me ask Vette. If she thinks its hot, then its definitely a creepy fetish thing." The Wrath explained. "Huh?" Havoc1 asked. "Hold on... Yea, VETTE! Yea... sex with a tied up guy... No its not like a BDSM thing... Like if he's James Bond, and she's a female guard or something... Huh? REALLY? You can't be serious. That much?" The Wrath said, having two conversations at once. "Well?" Havoc1 asked. "Vette says that kind of fantasy will run you about 2,000 credits in a Nar Shaddaa slave brothel." The Wrath explained. "ITS NOT A FANTASY!" Havoc1 squealed. "I REALLY WANNA SEE IF HE CAN DO IT! It's like science... Or something." "Its kind of creepy." The Wrath replied. "Nuh-uh! It's totally hot. Like that one scene in Goldeneye when James Bond and the Russian chick are like half-fighting, half-foreplay." Havoc1 explained. "Doesn't James Bond pull a gun on her at the end of that scene?" The Wrath asked. "Well yea... But I've got bigger guns than anyone so I feel pretty good about my odds." Havoc1 answered. "Whatever. Weirdo." The Wrath replied. "Come on. You still have to hook me up. You promised!" Havoc1 begged. "Fine. Just don't turn this thing into some kind of political incident, ok?" "You're not my mommy, General Garza." Havoc1 replied. "Huh?" "Nothing. Just to tell me where to be for cocktails." Havoc1 insisted. LATER THAT NIGHT "Holy crap. I can't believe that actually worked. You really are that good." Havoc1 sighed. "Well, I told you I needed 2 hands free for that trick." Cipher 9 shrugged. "And it was the best trick I ever experienced. I don't even regret that I'm handcuffed to the bulkhead now." Havoc1 replied. "Well, you did incapacitate me and abduct me. I sort of had to assume your intentions were... military." Cipher 9 apologized. "By the way, which way to the escape pod? You're very charming, but I've got some things I need to do and..." "Ah come on. Stay the night. I'll make it worth it for you." Havoc1 asked. "You were very special for me. If it was any other occassion..." "You probably say that to all the girls. Come on, you wouldn't leave a naked girl handcuffed in her own cargo hold, would you?" Havoc1 pleaded. "Not unless I had already had sex with her, no." Cipher 9 replied. "Crap. Can you at least teach me that awesome judo throw sometime then?" Havoc1 asked. "The one I used when you uncuffed me, or the one I used when I was changing positions from-" "Both." "Maybe. Another time." Cipher 9 shrugged. "There's never going to be another time, is there?" Havoc1 asked. "Spies never say never, my dear." Cipher 9 grinned. "Don't tease a handcuffed girl. In her own handcuffs. I apologize for that by the way, had I known how uncomfortable this is I would have gotten the fur-lined ones." "Don't apologize- The cold steel is so much more authentic. It's something that needs to be appreciated. By the way, the restraining bolt I put on your protocol droid will deactivate in about 20 minutes, then he'll be able to help you out of that, I imagine." Cipher 9 explained. "Until we meet again... You were a gracious host." "You'll call me, right?" Havoc1 asked. "I'm very busy, but if I had the time I would rendezvous with you again." Cipher 9 said diplomatically. "Don't ******** me. I had a little chat with some friends in SIS while you were comatose in the chair. I've read your dossier." Havoc1 explained. "Oh?" Cipher 9 raised an eyebrow. "And what did they have to say?" "They said you were going to take me out for drinks on friday." Havoc1 grinned. "Your sexual aggression and persistence is the heart of your charm. I wish I met more women like you in my line of work." Cipher 9 turned to leave. "Onomatophobia. You'll call me at 8 on friday." Havoc1 grinned. "I'll call you at 8 for drinks on friday. DAMMIT!" Cipher 9 replied. "Escape pod's 2 doors down on the left. See you friday."

well, the fact of the matter is, the best pvp videos ever made were Achtung Duskwood and the Serenity Now funeral crash. All other pvp vids live in their shadows.

and I keep telling you, write combat the way you write romance, and you'll be fine. In the end, they both come down to thrusting, hard breathing, and expulsion of certain bodily fluids. You're the one who keeps telling yourself they're two different things. And only single women should *shy smile.* Those that are taken gave up the privilege of being coy.

the goal of the project was to make the galaxy's most notorious bounty hunter put his gun to his head and blow his brains out every time his whiny sidekick asked him to fly to the butt-end of Nar Shaddaa to get a few cheap ticks of 15 affection. Mako's companion arc is a tragedy. Gault's insane scheme to sell salt to moisture farmers is an instant classic. Best companion story arc in the game.

if you're a shieldtech powertech? Mako? Not likely. Only if you're pyrotech. As shieldtech you should be using Gault or Torian. By the time you're high enough to get them, (BH gets companions on a late schedule, you'll be near the end of tatooine when you pick up Gault.) You'll have enough points invested in the tank tree to be appreciably hard. At that point, its not a question of whether or not mobs are going to die, its how fast you want them to die. Use a DPS pet, as a tank you aren't going anywhere. Of course, some people might say, "but I don't want any downtime between fights! I'll use the heal pet and then I'll finish every pack at 100%!" Well, yea. But it will take you a minute to kill them all unless you wait for Death From Above to refresh between packs. Trust me, use a DPS pet. You'll level faster. Downtime doesn't mean crap when your uptime is fast. Believe me, I've leveled every tank class to 50 and I never used the damn healbot for any of them.

All you carebears that think ganking lowbies is wrong need to re-evaluate your religious and lifestyle choices. First of all, There are no PVP servers in this game, relative to any other MMO. They might be tagged as PVP servers, but they aren't. Bioware has gone well out of their way to build a world where you never actually see the other faction running around in separate zones, and most of the content is so well divided that at any point in time you would have absolutely no idea how many players of the enemy faction are in a given area at a time. As a matter of fact, this division is so tragic that it hurts the game and creates an unnecessary strain on Bioware's creative assets- There are fundamentally 2 different games in SWTOR- each faction has its own world, and hardly ever confronts the other faction. Their world design includes content that you never actually see on any given character unless you go well out of your own way to look for it, and thousands of hours of design time are written off by the geographic barriers installed to keep players from meeting each other. -Balmorra and Taris are both faction coded and Reps and Imps visit those worlds in completely different level brackets. You will never meet anyone of the enemy faction for any reason on either of these worlds. -Tatooine and Hoth both have fiercely segregated leveling areas that you would never see, and quests for the opposing faction do not breadcrumb into them. These worlds only share their finale leveling area with both factions simultaneously. (Dune Sea and Starship Graveyard) -Belsavis is a giant disorganized joke in terms of world design and anybody who can actually find anything on that planet, much less another player, should be given a medal. Both factions start on opposite sides of the map and then proceed to get lost in the labyrinth of ridiculous transport networks. -Nar Shaddaa and Corellia are both designed with so much polar content that in order to stand a chance of running into the opposite faction, you would have to Bugs Bunny the hell out of the zone and take a serious wrong turn at Albuquerque. The only part of Corellia where you'd actually see enemy players is Blackhole, which is so small that you practically rub shoulders with other players, and even that has polar design. -The only planet where you could actually feasibly run into other players is Voss. Voss is the only planet in the game that uses mutual quest hubs and flight points. THE TLDR VERSION There is no PVP. Not even on a PVP server. Bioware has gone to great lengths to put a fence up around your backyard. There's no Stranglethorn Vale, there's no Hillsbrad, you could roll on a pvp server and never see an enemy player from 10-50. WHY THAT'S BAD Aside from the fact that you're paying Bioware/EA to design 2 completely separate games, and pay for both of them while only playing one? What could be as bad as that? Well there's this- Antisocial behavior is still a social behavior. Fighting the enemy faction encourages dialog. It builds community. Somebody ganks you- So you call your friends. Now you're ganking them. They call their friends. Now you have a fight. Remember, its called STAR WARS. You're supposed to kill the people who have different color lightsabers and pajamas than you, not just sit in fleet and queue up and wait for huttball to pop. You want to gank. And you want to get ganked. You want to right wrongs and pvp and feel like you're doing something that has an impact in your server community, because guess what- Winning Voidstar doesn't mean crap. People win Voidstar dozens of times a day on your server, it has no relevance to anything. Farming the enemy faction back to their respawn and kicking them back to their spaceport? That has impact. That's part of the community. And do you have any idea how that starts? With one jerk like OP, who thought it would be fun to murder someone 25 levels below him. You need that in your game. Its part of the fabric of MMO social behavior, and it does more good for the community than it does bad. Have you ever had a giant guild-vs-guild conflict on Tatooine? Everybody with one tag fighting everybody with another, for bragging rights, to see who has the better players? To assert dominance? Does that sound like fun to you? Well it was. It was one of the best times I ever had playing this game. Guess how it started- We found a Rep trying to do his rakghoul dailies, and we kicked his teeth in.

There is no game played on a board, on a video game console, on a table, on a PC, or anywhere in LIFE that does not reward advantage for having played the game longer. its just like everything else. Put in the work to be good at it, even if being good at it only means you're the guy that shows up on time, all the time. Some people just choose to put the work into SWTOR instead of their family, their health, or their resume. That's their business. It just so happens that when you choose to play SWTOR, they make it your business too.

Anni-rauders and Pyrotechs have one thing in common that most QQ'ers haven't figured out yet. cleansing debuffs makes them bury their heads in their pillows and cry themselves to sleep. Here's 3 easy ways to ruin their day. 1) Be an assassin/shadow- Hit 45 second "oh Shi-" defensive cooldown, make pyro/mara cry, throw rocks/purple lightning at him until he vanishes/undying rages, hit g t f o my face' button, knock him back, wait for his cooldowns to expire, receive skilling blow medal. Or if he's a pyro, go straight to receive skilling blow medal, and probably your 2.5k medal too, because pyrotech defensive strategy consists entirely of "the other guy isn't dead already? Fuuu-" 2) Be healer- target teammate, cast 'cleanse'. Trollface like crazy while pyro/mara cries. Additionally, the pyrotech will probably just put his gun to his head and blow his own brains out because pyrotechs would rather suck their own gun barrels than cast a 25 heat incendiary missile twice in one fight. 3) Stop solo queuing. Every class is harder to kill with a pocket healer or a guard bubble.

commodity costs across the board for crewskill items, mission launches, and repairs are fine. legacy costs for perks are fine. What's out of control is the cost for the custom gear on coruscant/DK legacy vendors. A couple hundred grand for some custom chest armor to make your alt babies aesthetically appealing is a little too much- I expect to pay that much for augment slotted customs on the GTN, but for vanilla custom gear with no perks that are supposed to be a perk package for players that enjoy re-hashing the content for the story? that's a little out of control.

LOVE IT the slow blade penetrates the shield.

I don't mean to rain on your parade Yesek, but this is what people who have been doing MMO pvp for years refer to as a "bad video." Cardinal Sin #1- You play close in the third person with awful situational awareness. You need to be zoomed out more often, it establishes better combat control and helps the narrative, so the viewer knows you're actually picking good targets. What you filmed was '5 minutes of red blur.' Cardinal Sin #2- You don't show off your tools. There's an expectation in serious pvp vids that you pop your character/talent panel so the viewer can see what you're working with for reference. Cardinal Sin #3- THE ONE YOU'RE GOING TO HELL FOR. There is only one sin that will cause Satan to burst through the ground, ripping a new ******e in all of creation, pull himself bodily up into the realm of mortals and start kicking teeth in and swallowing souls, and you're totally guilty of it. You never, ever, ever edit out deaths. If someone outplays you or you make a mistake, you have to show it. The pvp video author has no credibility if all he makes is a highlight reel, and you cut to a new scene every time your health drops to 10%. This more than anything will put a black mark on your record as a pvp vid author, and was established back in ye olden WoW days in 2004 when people started theorycrafting pvp seriously.

Brought to you by Taco Bell and your Los Angeles Kings.

"Holy crap! We have 20k views!" The Wrath exclaimed. "Is that alot?" Havoc1 asked. "20k of anything is kind of a lot, but pageviews for a fanfic thread? that's apocalyptic." The Wrath explained. "I guess I am pretty great." Havoc1 nodded. "You? Come on! You were only here for like the last 2 thousand or so." The Wrath grimaced. "Psh. Doubting the epic sexiness of my Zabrak facial tatts I see. You know the boys love them." Havoc1 jeered. "Oh yea, what's you're boyfriend's name again?" The Wrath asked. "Mr. Right... Now." Havoc1 responded. "That's right A-Cup, stand to the side while the queen takes her throne." The Wrath insisted. "Whatever, Freckles." "What the hell does that jigsaw on your face mean anyways?" "Rite of passage. Represents significant events in my life. Zabrak cultural thing." Havoc1 explained. "Do all of them mean something?" The Wrath asked. "Yep." "Even the tramp stamp I saw in the locker room at the gym?" The Wrath asked. "YOU SAW THAT ONE?" "Was I not supposed too?" "I... Thought I had a towel over that. That one's kind of intimate." Havoc1 blushed. "Do tell." The Wrath chided. "No way." "Come on... We've got 20k views, and you won't tell the audience about your skanky tats? You owe the audience." "WHAT? They get to know that? What kind of horrible fan fiction is this?" Havoc1 asked. "Sweetheart, they know everything about my relationship. Just wait till you get a boyfriend, then you'll really be in trouble." The Wrath explained. "Psh. I'm not gonna get a boyfriend. I'm gonna get a bunch of hot guys and make my ship a floating man-harem." The Wrath rolled her eyes. "Yea, I tried barking up that tree. The damn narrator won't give me a break." "Dammit." "So come on, spill it. What's the tattoo above your *** mean?" The Wrath asked. "It's a traditional tat worn by ranch hands on the Zabrak homeworld." Havoc1 explained. "Is that like a thing there?" "Hell no. My daddy was in the army and I was an army brat. I've never seen a horse in my life." Havoc1 explained. "So then why would you have a tat above your *** that means cowgirl?" The Wrath asked. "Oh." "Understand?" "Yup. That's trashy." The Wrath giggled. "So what do you want to do since we got 20k views? Havoc1 asked. "Get drunk and watch CHiPs reruns." The Wrath answered. "Sounds good. What are the readers gonna do?" THANKS FOR 20K EVERYONE!

AFTER ACTION REPORT They mostly come at night, mostly. Filed by Lieutenant Havoc One, commanding officer, Havoc Squadron. Hailed Imperial Fury class ship callsign "Turbo Lover" at 18:21 hours. Docking protocol was engaged without incident. Boarded "Turbo Lover" at 18:32, was confronted by Imperial Black Ops at the door. Sergeant Jorgan immediately started catfight resulting in homoerotic wrestling display. Recommend commendation for bravery. Would have preferred to see both combatants without their body armor, bystander twi'lek agrees. Acquired target "Emperor's Wrath." Target was in an agitated but ultimately docile state, immobilized by PMS. Target judged to be unarmed and no immediate threat to person, wearing underwear and possibly also croc sandals. Secondary targets appeared to be equally docile. Sergeant Jorgan eventually succeeded in neutralizing black ops threat after protracted melee resulting in hairball assault. Sexual harassment suit for unsoldierly conduct was threatened by black ops, however it is my belief that humiliation and grief will keep him from admitting it ever actually happened. Secondary target twi'lek designation 'Vette' appears whiny and arrogant, but ultimately harmless kleptomaniac and probable sexual deviant. Secondary target Talz designation 'Broonmark' completely unmatched by SIS dossier. Reprimand intelligence immediately. Subject displayed no antisocial or criminally insane behavior. Spent entire visit in cargo bay reading Nietzsche and listening to Beethoven while smoking tobacco pipe. Secondary target 'Jaesa' not acquired. Suspected to be on date with Jedi knight. Target behavior appeared normal until 22:00 hours, at which point Target was 7 beers deep and Aliens came on the classic movie channel, After which Target insisted that I "teach her how to shoot a Smart Gun." And that I "Let her try on my GI Joe armor." As I had been matching the target beer-for-beer and my judgment was in question, I complied. Recommend commendation for extreme bravery to Sergeant Jorgan, who repeatedly told me it was a bad idea and that I was drunk, despite being ordered to "Shut the hell up and go deuce in a catbox" dozens of times. After locking Sergeant Jorgan in the medbay and threatening to court martial him for "being a killjoy" Target and I decided it would be fun to re-enact scenes from Aliens. This was after a fresh case of boxed wine was opened, and the Target and I were passing the plastic pouch full of liquor back and forth and drinking straight from the spigot. After securing duct tape and empty pizza boxes from the cargo area, I ordered M1-4X to the scene and we immediately began modifying him into a power loader. Target then begged/bargained certain acts of oral sex to be named later with her boyfriend to dress up as a 'sexy alien' using a combination of black stockings, assorted fetishwear, and pillows, and we then took turns riding Forex and wrestling the 'alien queen.' Offered to trade Target a case of beer for a night with her cute boyfriend, however Target declined, citing that there was still plenty of booze in the fridge. After waking up on the couch the next morning, recovering certain items of clothing and Republic property, tearing the duct tape off of Forex and liberating Sergeant Killjoy from the medbay, I deemed it improbable that the Target was in any faculty a strategically capable mind, or for that manner, any kind of strategic asset to the Empire, at all. It is this lieutenant's belief that Target "Emperor's Wrath" currently represents a significant drain on the Empire's resources, and is absolutely no threat to anyone while under an advanced stage of inebriation, which by the contents of her fridge, appears to be more often than not. It is this lietuenant's recommendation that trade tariffs on all alcoholic beverages be relaxed throughout Republic space, in order to make significant and immobilizing imbibement more likely in the event of Imperial aggression. Any seemingly strategically significant decisions made by the Target against the Republic are the result of circumstance and incredible blind luck, and Target has failed to report to any major conflict or flashpoint in the past 3 months. Also, I'm going to the gym with her on friday. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "So you filed a report that said I was a drunk idiot, right?" The Wrath asked. "I think the words I used were ' improbable that the Target was in any faculty a strategically capable mind.'" Havoc1 replied. "That's military jargon for 'stupid' right?" The Wrath nodded. "Yea, pretty much." Havoc1 answered. "See, it works perfectly. Shan knows I'm a lush, she's seen me drunk. Your report will corroborate it. Then, the Republic Senate, thinking that everyone in the Imperial chain of command is a bunch of drunk idiots because of my example, will lower booze prices across the galaxy, and we'll get drunker cheaper!" The Wrath conspired. "That does sound kind of stupid when I think about it." Havoc1 griped. "Stupid like a fox! If it works, we can get a case of beer for under 10 bucks! If it doesn't, Satele Shan gets off my back. Either way, everybody wins!" The Wrath explained. "And how many hot uniformed guys did you say you were going to provide again?" Havoc1 asked. "I have to make some calls. I think I can get like 6. There's a ton of hunks in Imperial Intelligence. I heard they were all James Bondy and great seducers and stuff." The Wrath counted on her fingers. "Well, they can seduce me as much as they want as long as they call back. Send me some headshots. See you friday, Darth Drunky." "Later, A-cup."

TUESDAY MAINTENANCE CROSSOVER BONANZA Episode 1: The Phantom Menace Servant One: What's going on here? Servant Two: No idea. Servant One: Holo's ringing. Servant Two: Someone should pick that up... "My lord, urgent holocall on line 1 for you." Malavai Quinn beeped over the intercom. "Tell them to call back when I give a damn, or if they're like The Emperor himself or something." The Wrath crunched down on a barbecue potato chip. "My lord, I do believe Grand Master Satele Shan qualifies as a 'something.'" Quinn replied. The Wrath thought briefly about getting off the couch, putting on her clothing, and maybe entertaining the concept of contributing to the empire, or at least representing it in front of the final boss of all Jedi. Huh? No I didn't. The Wrath continued to sit on the couch in her underwear with a bowl of barbecue potato chips in her lap, with half a six pack of cheap Huttese beer sitting next to the holoterminal remote. "Whatever. Patch Grand Master Tight Panties through." The Wrath commanded. "Greetings Wrath, I- Oh wow. When you Sith fall you really fall far. Should I call back another time?" Satele Shan started after looking at the Wrath. "Huh?" The Wrath rubbed grease on her undershirt. "Oh this? Yea. Not my proudest moment. I've got a little bit of a rakghoul outbreak in my panties if you know what I mean. Kind of taking it easy." "Rakghoul outbreak? So that was you on Tatooine?" Shan accused. "Something happened on Tatooine? No. I meant my period. I haven't left my ship all week. Why, what's happening on Tatooine? Are people actually pvping or something?" The Wrath asked. "Well its over. So don't worry about it. I suppose I should thank you for not getting involved." Shan explained. "Don't thank me. Thank Aunt Flow." The Wrath grimaced. "Aunt who?" "Don't you jedi have any innuendos for anything?" The Wrath asked. "No, when we're on the job we're pretty much humorless killjoys. Its in the Jedi Employee Handbook. Anyways, we need to talk." Satele Shan said. "You have exactly 22 minutes before a Miami Vice marathon comes on, then my time belongs to Edward James Olmos." The Wrath replied. "You'd cut me off to watch reruns of retro cop drama?" Shan fumed. "That's ADMIRAL cop drama rerun ADAMA. SO. SAY. WE. ALL." The Wrath grinned. "Anyways, what do you want? I'm not moving off this couch, so don't ask me to another dinner date. Also, please never give me tequila again. Even as a good will gesture." "Noted. Its about our trust issues, and the recent incapacitation of Battlemaster Chris, who'd be a war hero right now, if he wasn't out the first week of 1.2 with a hip injury." Shan explained. "Still kind of bent on that one huh? I don't know what you want me to do about that, tie Jaesa down to the bed? Make her take a cold shower?" The Wrath suggested. "Jaesa and Chris are their own business. For now. I'm struggling to establish your credibility. I still need proof that it wasn't some sort of master manipulation on your part." Shan explained. Again. "If I wasn't about to watch Edward James Olmos kick *** all over Miami for the next 4 hours, I'd be wounded by your lack of faith." The Wrath shrugged. "Your apathy isn't earning you any points. But I decided, as a Jedi, that I was too close to the issue. So I'm going to call upon the testimony of an outside perspective. Someone I can believe without bias." "Oh yea, who did you have in mind? A hutt?" The Wrath rolled her eyes. "I called in a favor from General Garza. Maybe you know her, she's the grandmother of Republic Spec Force. She has a candidate for me." Satele grinned. "General Garza looks pretty good for her age, I'll give her that." The Wrath capitulated. "I'm glad you think so, but she's not who I'm sending. You should consider yourself privileged, you're getting Havoc Squad." "Didn't those guys defect to my team?" The Wrath asked, confused. "That's still under wraps in the Republic and I'll thank you not to spread it around. This is new, treason-free Havoc Squad." Shan grimaced. "Wait, so I'm babysitting another one of your Republic ******es? I'm out of girls on this ship. I can't play matchmaker for any more of your people, why don't you guys just push a motion through the Senate and put a sex ed class in the Jedi Academy, then I wouldn't have to go batting cleanup for all your plugged-up Jedi trying to get to second base." The Wrath spat. "Well, then you'll be happy to know that Havoc's CO is a woman." Shan returned. "So what do you want me to do then, get the quilts and needles out and have a good old fashioned stitch-n-*****?" "I want you to allow her on your ship for an afternoon. Just long enough for her to observe your character and make a sound judgment about you." "Am I the only who thinks this is a stupid idea and a tragic waste of time? Did I mention I'm on my period? Look, I'm sitting on a couch eating bbq chips and watching 80s cops shows, I'm not really in a state to lead any Jedi to ruin. Do we have to do this right now?" The Wrath shrugged. "Well, if I -ahem- knew you were indisposed with your monthly visit, I might have cut you a break, but there's a bit of a scheduling issue..." Shan mumbled. "Sir, Enemy ship on the scope, BT-7 Thunderclap, Republic tags- Nostromo." Quinn interjected over the intercom. "Dammit, that's her isn't it?" The Wrath asked. "Mmmm-hmm. I did you a favor. So how about you do this favor for me?" Shan replied. The Wrath let out a long, drawn out sigh. "Fine. Then we're square." "We'll see if we're square after she submits her report." Shan hung up the holo. "Sir, Republic ship is hailing us for docking procedure. Orders?" Quinn screeched over the intercom. "Let em in, it's a house party." The Wrath groaned. "PIERCE! Go get the door while you're at it." Lieutenant Pierce hit the airlock release, nearly crapped his pants, and then drew his gun. Sergeant Jorgan did roughly the same thing. "Sir! Its Havoc Squad! The Republic's best! We're being boarded!" Pierce shouted. "Sir! It's Imperial Black Ops! Empire's best! We're being boarded!" Jorgan shouted. Between the two of them, nobody had any idea what they were saying. "Huh?" The Wrath mumbled. "What?" Havoc1 asked. "Its a trap!" Both men shouted simultaneously, then met in the middle of the airlock access tunnel and began a ferocious grapple. Vette was watching. "Woah, that's kind of hot. Are you guys gonna make out?" "What? No!" They both replied simultaneously. "Stop doing that!" They both shouted at each other. Havoc1 stepped over the twisted pile of wrestling men and extended her hand to shake Vette's. "Hi. This was a diplomatic mission. Or something. Are you the Wrath?" "No I'm just the galaxy's cutest twi'lek. The Wrath's on the couch in her underwear drinking beer and watching tv." Vette explained. "Really?" Havoc1 looked incredulous. "On her period. It happens." Vette shrugged. "Oh. Should I... go?" Havoc1 looked down at Pierce and Jorgan, still wrestling on the floor. "Screw it, you're already here, right?" Vette led Havoc1 into the common area. "Don't get up because of me." Havoc1 said. "That's good, because I won't." The Wrath spoke into her beer can. "So uh... want one?" Havoc1 looked briefly around the ship. Miami Vice was on the holo. The couch was covered in alcohol and junk food in various states of imbibing or consumption, and dirty laundry was hanging from the bulkhead. She looked back into the airlock where Jorgan and Pierce were still tangling on the floor, then back at the holo. "Holy ****, is that Edward James Olmos?" She asked. "Gimme that beer!" "Hell yea it is!" The Wrath threw her a can enthusiastically. "I ****in love Battlestar Galactica. I am so down with anything E.J.O." Havoc1 brushed some crumbs off a cushion and sat down. "Is your buddy okay?" The Wrath asked. "He'll beat your boy eventually when he hacks up a hairball on him and they decide its mutually too disgusting to continue. I had to clean my shower with a pulse cannon." Havoc1 explained. "Is that a Republic Spec Force thing?" "No, its a Cathar thing. Hey, is that guy single?" Havoc1 asked. "Off limits honey, he's mine." Vette interjected. "What a taco party. I was hoping your ship would be full of hot imperial guys in tight uniform pants with cute asses." Havoc1 took a long drag of her beer. "That department is my boyfriend." The Wrath grinned. "Woah! Pace yourself!" "What? You've got more beer, right?" Havoc1 asked. "Oh. Well yea, of course. Hey, why the hell do I have to bring all the hot guys anyways? What's wrong with the boy you brought?" The Wrath asked. "Eh. He's the Devoted to Duty type. Maybe someday I'll date him, if he ever gets his pecker out of his pants and admits to himself that pleasing his woman is more important than his job." Havoc1 crushed her empty. "You know what? I think we're going to be friends." The Wrath nodded.

ELSEWHERE IN THE GALAXY excuse me, who are you? excuse me, who are you? excuse me, who are you? "So uhm, are we gonna go out and hunt some bounties or something, like we used too?" Mako asked. "Eh. Haven't really been feeling it. I am kind of a notorious war criminal. Might want to lay low for a while." Big Sis shrugged. "You've sat around all weekend watching weird Japanese movies. Shouldn't we at least go see if the Empire, you know, wants anyone dead?" "My sisters are on the freaking board of directors for the whole damn Empire, if they want somebody killed, I'm sure they'll call." Big Sis deflected. "You sure about that? One of them is a drunk that's been sandbagging on her duties since she became Emperor's Wrath, and the other is probably clinically insane, if not criminally insane." Mako explained. "I don't understand the negative connotations of that." "Of being a lush or a psychopath?" Mako asked. "The 'criminally insane' part. Most of my family is 'criminally insane.' I prefer to think of it as 'criminally successful.'" Big Sis explained. "Whatever. What the hell are you watching anyways?" Mako asked. "Japanese psycho thrillers." Big Sis shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth. "Are they any good?" "Oh yea- Hey wait, SKADGE! Skadge, get in here! This dude is about to get his eyes gouged out with an ice pick!" Big Sis yelled. "SUP RUNT?" Skadge came in. "Look at this... Oh! Yea! Stab that dude!" Big Sis tipped the popcorn bowl over in her lap but didn't notice. "NICE." Skadge voiced his approval. "See, she's a criminally insane schizophrenic that thinks she's a pop singer, and she's going around murdering all these writers and producers who she thinks are defaming her reputation, but actually she's just a fat chick that used to be a pop singer and now she's an agent, and her alter ego thinks she's the pop singer main character who is her client, who is also enduring neurotic fits of paranoia because a mysterious ice pick murderer is acting on her behalf." Big Sis explained. "And it explains all that?" Mako asked, not enthusiastic about ice pick murder. "Oh hell no, its a total trip. You have to watch it like 3 or 4 times to get it all. The director ****s with your head." "I don't think I'm interested." Mako shrugged and left the room. "Hey wait... Mako! MAKO!" Big Sis yelled. "What?" Mako shouted back. "See if you can figure out a way to rig up the high energy gas cylinder to fire ice picks out of a gauntlet." MEANWHILE, IN REPUBLIC SPACE "I can't believe you were flirting with that Balkar guy while we were on an important mission." Jorgan huffed. "I can't believe he didn't throw me down on the table and ravish me right there in front of the whole bar." Havoc1 replied. "WHAT?" Jorgan's eyes went wide. "JEALOUS?" Havoc1 laughed. "I'm not jealous. It's just that we were on an important mission-" "That totally got accomplished because we're ." Havoc1 replied. "Hey Ripley, don't worry, me and my squad of ultimate bad asses will protect you." "That's hardly the point-" "Hold on I'm not done yet. M1-4X, WHO WILL MY TEAM OF ULTIMATE BAD ASSES PROTECT?" "Ripley, sir!" Forex replied. "That's right. And what weapons are you equipped with to make sure that your mission objective is achieved?" Havoc1 asked. "State of the Bad *** Art! Sonic-electronic ball breakers! Nukes! Knives! Sharp sticks! All provided at extreme expense to Republic taxpayers!" Forex replied. "I ****in' love that robot. One of these days I'm going to modify him into a power loader, and fight an acklay with him." Havoc1 sighed. "I'd just appreciate it if you didn't flirt with your contacts while you're on the mission, sir." Jorgan rolled his eyes. "You're valuable advice is noted sergeant. You wouldn't mind if I called him up while I wasn't on a mission though, right?" Havoc1 asked. "That... Would... Be... Fine." Jorgan replied through his teeth. "Good, because I invited him to the ship for tea and crumpets." Havoc1 explained. "We don't have tea or crumpets in the galley, sir." Jorgan replied. "I know. I was going to put something else on the menu for our little picnic. And a picnic blanket. For the holoterminal. The surface is a little cold for bare skin." Havoc1 grinned. "ON THE HOLOTERMINAL? SIR!" Jorgan fumed. "Yea, you and Elara might want to go find something to do on Coruscant or something, I intend to put this ship through field trials. Unless of course, someone wants to admit that they're jealous..." Havoc1 shrugged. "Not... Jealous... Sir... Your off duty time is your... Business... Sir." Jorgan grinded his teeth.

Who the hell are these new jerks? I thought I was the star? We finally start talking about someone's dirty laundry that isn't yours, and now you complain? Its not like that at all! Its exactly like that, you prima donna. Nuh-uh! I'm not going to have this argument with you, but as long as you're here, bump the recruitment thread. What kind of cheap shot is that? Using my fame to push your guild? It's your guild too. Oh. In that case, Sign up jerks! Come play on the Trail! We need bodies for 16 man! Preferably snipers, but we'll take anyone who wants to play. http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=401777

ELSEWHERE IN THE GALAXY... Continuing adventures of perfectly average women. "Probey? Probey? Hey, has anyone seen Probey?" Lil Sis asked. "Are you talking to ghosts or something again?" Andronikos Revel looked concerned. "Huh? No. I haven't really been doing the Patrick Swayze thing since Voss. That's resolved. I'm looking for my droid. Have you seen him?" Lil Sis explained. "He's right over there. Where he always is." Revel pointed to 2V-R8. "The galaxy will continue to tremble at your approach if it knows what's good for it! Maker knows I do." The droid lamented. "No, not that annoying bucket of bolts. My interrogation droid. His name is Probey. He floats around and waits. And waits. And waits." Lil Sis said. "You mean that little round thing that floats around about eye level and just hovers around the ship, looking like its spying on people?" Revel asked. "Yea. That's Probey. Have you seen him?" "That thing terrifies the **** out of me." Revel exclaimed. "What the hell is it even for?" "What do you mean? He's Probey! He's like my floating little best friend! He never talks back and he never betrays me, he just floats and waits." Lil Sis sulked. "He waits for what?" "For us to have sex. Then he records it." Lil Sis shrugged. "WHAT?" Revel's jaw nearly hit the floor. "I kind of wanted to see what it looked like when we made love. And then I kind of just forgot to tell you that I programmed my interrogation droid to record us every time we were intimate." Lil Sis explained. "Is there anything else you forgot that you want to tell me?" Revel asked. "Yea. I programmed all my banking information into him too, so I wouldn't have to carry my purse everywhere. It seemed like a good idea at the time, Now I'm trying to make a payment on my student loan from the Sith Academy and now I can't find him." "You have a student loan from the Sith Academy? Didn't they bring you there and force you through the training program as a slave?" Revel asked, incredulously. "Yea. And then they charged me for it. Sith are jerks." MEANWHILE, IN REPUBLIC SPACE... "Alright, whose the son of a nerf herder that hid my lady-items?" Havoc1 fumed as she came into the common area from the bathroom. "Excuse me?" Aric Jorgan raised an eyebrow. "My personal effects. Specifically, the ones related to keeping me sane and hygienic during that one week every month when I feel more like stomping imps than usual." Havoc1 explained. "I uhm... I don't go anywhere near that stuff, sir." Jorgan gulped. "Do you have something you need to share sergeant? This better not be another hairball related episode of locker-room shenanigans." Havoc1 rolled her eyes. "Look, I apologized for that... sir. Besides, I explained that this was the kind of difficulty we were going to run into sharing a bathroom. The BT-7 Thunderclap only has one. Its not like I chose to be born Cathar." Jorgan defended. "First of all, its not the Thunderclap. That just sounds like some kind of supernatural sexually transmitted disease. She's a good ship, and her name is Nostromo." Havoc1 folded her arms. "Nostromo? You mean Sigourney Weaver's ship? from Alien?" Jorgan asked. "Yes, that Nostromo. My Nostromo." Havoc1 replied. "Please tell me you're not one of those Aliens fanboys that signed up for commando training because you thought the assault cannon was a colonial marine smart gun." Jorgan rolled his eyes. " " Havoc1 asked. "I don't understand, sir." "You wouldn't. Because Aliens is great, and you don't appreciate it. But that's semantics." Havoc1 proclaimed. "Semantics, sir?" "Yes. Semantics. Because right now, we're in the middle of nowhere, Republic space, trapped inside this giant tin can, and I've got to stop the bleeding on a major flesh wound, if you get my drift. And if you don't get my drift, then consider this- In space, no one can hear you scream." Havoc1 explained. "Are you ordering me to find your tampons, sir?" Jorgan asked. "No, I'm threatening you. I don't like me when I'm PMSing. You're going to hate and fear it." Havoc1 growled. "I just finished cataloging all the sundry goods on the ship sir, you can read all about it in my latest report." Sergeant Dorne strolled into the room, oblivious to the ongoing conversation. "You really need to relax that discipline, Sergeant." Jorgan told her. "I kind of like it. She takes care of all the paperwork so I can do all the bossing around." Havoc1 shrugged. "Dorne. Do you have any idea where my feminine items are?" "I found a box of Organa Carefrees in the cabinet under the sink while I was reorganizing the bathroom sir, and replaced them with the Republic Regulation Czerka type 2 recycled uniform cotton tampons as per regulation 37-B in the grooming standard. The Carefrees and other contraband goods I liberated from throughout the ship were spaced out the airlock as per regulation 42-A of the Republic Fleet Interstellar Transit Standard." Dorne explained soberly. "I take it back. Jorgan's right. You do need to relax that discipline, Sergeant." Havoc1 bit her lower lip to stifle an urge to strangle Dorne with her Legacy power. Elsewhere in the galaxy, the Wrath stirred in her sleep. "Those contraband items didn't include my pocket-holo terminal, did it?" Jorgan asked. "I'm afraid it did." Dorne nodded. Jorgan could only sigh. A lonely soldier needed certain entertainments on long nights, and thanks to Elara Dorne, tonight would be another firewatch without a date. Somewhere in space, a pocket-holo loaded with recently downloaded explicit Sith-on-Pirate amateur *********** floated through the void. BACK ON THE SITH FURY... "Good news and bad news, my lord." Talos Drellik informed Lil Sis. "Good news first." Lil Sis rolled her eyes. She had been distraught since losing Probey. "The good news is that I found Probey, and also that your student loan has been paid in full. An Imperial Reclamation Service man always finds his quarry!" Drellik exclaimed. "You found Probey! Great!" Lil Sis lit up. "But... how did my student loan get paid?" "The bad news is that the crime syndicate SpankHutt.com bought your amateur **** video from an anonymous source, the proceeds of which were credited to your student loan." Drellik explained. "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN AND WHAT DID YOU DO?" Lil Sis grabbed Probey out of the air and shook him. Probey only floated. Probey only waited.

Your protagonist needs to have some kind of life experience that ties into their principal strength. Right now, all you have is that your protagonist is very manipulative and cunning, but not especially martial or strong in the force. This is kind of a problem, because although in the Sith Empire its possible for someone to rise to high rank through deception and clever plotting, it is very difficult the lower on the totem pole you are. The academy experience is pretty rudimentary, and initiates tend to get picked off if they're weak in a fight or in the force- You don't have friends in the academy, you don't have peers, and you don't have a powerbase. You only have opponents. How did your protagonist, whose only advantage was that she was Batman-Smart, get to that level? How did she become wily enough to be a Sith in the first place. This is why she needs a life experience. She needs a view point- Something that has colored her perception since a very young age. Perhaps her hand got chewed off in a tragic garbage compactor accident when she was six years old, and she's had a cheap bionic replacement from a nar shaddaa street doc ever since, so she learned to avoid fights because she wasn't good at it. Perhaps she's ugly, or she has really bad acne, or BONEITIS, and it prevents her from acting on a higher social level, so she had to learn different ways to manipulate people because she couldn't make friends. Maybe she's just a midget, like Tyrion in Game of Thrones- He's wily because people have been giving him crap his whole life. Or maybe she's just a Girl with a Dragon Tattoo, because being a high functioning autistic apparently somehow grants you mythical hacking powers. What if she's just Bella Swan and has the amazing supernatural power to make vampires fall in love with her, despite never making a decision or having a personality? Or what if the car is on the other side of the street, going a different direction down the same road? What if she's breathtakingly gorgeous, and nobody takes her seriously as an intellectual because they assume she's been able to charm and seduce all her problems away, but at the same time, she can never make meaningful connections on an intellectual or emotional level with people because they constantly judge her at face value. What if her beauty is what fuels her power in the dark side, because she's constantly irritated that people use her like a bimbo? Of course, if you're going somewhere Gorean, that would be a good road to go down. I don't necessarily think that going somewhere Gorean is a good idea though, because John Norman made a blanket assumption that all women are at heart sexually submissive, which is profoundly wrong in more ways than can be described. What we need to find out is what gives your protagonist that advantage, that defined her. What colored her life to such a degree that the skills she learned playing around her disadvantages made up for her lack of martial strength or power in the force.

why were you the only one to catch that? I almost feel like I should leave it in there just because you're the only one who caught it.

ELSEWHERE IN THE GALAXY the everyday life of average female player characters besides the Wrath. "Alright, so we're all here then?" Lil Sis asked. "Everyone that's showing up at least. Moff Broysc couldn't make it, he said something about Church's Chicken." Moff Pyron shrugged. "He missed the stunning debut of my galactic terror weapon because he had a hankering for fried chicken?" Lil Sis asked, incredulously. "Well, we're not actually sure. There's not a Church's from here to Korriban. Its kind of a core worlds franchise. Its a well noted fact that Moff Broysc is completely insane, we have no idea what he means when he says Church's Chicken." Moff Pyron explained. "One time we found him alone in his room, wearing woman's makeup and sitting in a chair with his pants around his ankles, wearing nothing except an empty tub of fried chicken on his head." Moff Tmi added. "That's the single most horrible mental image I've ever had in my head and I'm a Sith lord that rents apartment space in my brain to force ghosts." Lil Sis groaned. "Let's purge that picture of evil by firing the Silencer at this republic fleet already." "Well, the Carnage is in the way, my lord." Moff Pyron observed. "You know what? I don't even care. Right now all I can see in front of me is a bunch of old crazy old perverts getting randy with fast food. Just fire the damn laser and obliterate this memory from my mind figuratively and literally." Lil Sis spat. "You heard the lady." Moff Pyron shrugged. The Silencer fired. There was an elaborate Death Star laser sequence, followed by a cheap explosion, and the republic fleet was scattered into space wreckage. "That was it? The fireworks were a little anti-climatic." Lil Sis shrugged. "Well, the Republic fleet has been completely eliminated, and besides, Bioware isn't that great with apocalyptic explosions. Nobody liked the ending of Mass Effect 3." Moff Pyron explained. "Eh." Lil Sis shrugged. "My lord, there's still the matter of naming the ship. It's currently the Doombringer, but we thought since you mounted a super weapon on it, you might want to change the name. Doombringer is a little tired." Moff Pyron explained. "I kind of like it. It's sinister." Lil Sis rebutted. "Well, every other moff and sith lord in the empire likes sinister names too. Doombringer, Voidstar, Carnage, MegaDeth, all Imperial ships follow a certain naming convention. There are actually 3 ships in the fleet named Doombringer. We've pretty much run out of ideas." Moff Pyron explained. "You have 3 Doombringers? Fine. Do you have any suggestions?" Lil Sis rolled her eyes. "Well each moff came up with what he thought was the best name. I picked Harbinger." Moff Pyron said. "I like that, its ominous." Lil Sis nodded. "There are 4 Harbingers already in the imperial fleet." Moff Pyron added. "I wanted to name it Pinkie Pie, after my favorite My Little Pony." Moff Tmi spoke up. "That's so stupid its actually kind of funny." Lil Sis laughed. "There are 12 Pinkie Pie's in the fleet. Most of them under Moff Tmi's command." Moff Pyron added. Lil Sis could only sigh. "Then there was Moff Broysc's idea. We didn't tell him about our little naming contest, but someone talked, and he found out about it, so he insisted his name be thrown into the hat with everyone else's." Moff Pyron explained. "Do I want to hear it?" Lil Sis asked. "He wanted to name the ship the **** Cancer." Moff Pyron concluded. "WHAT?" "As in, the ship ***** them, and then they get cancer." Moff Pyron quoted. "I want to give a ship a fearsome name just like everyone else in the empire, but that's entirely innapropriate, and frankly, disgusting." The Wrath replied. "Do you have a suggestion, my lord?" Moff Pyron asked. "Yes. Round up all the other Doombringers and fire the Silencer at them. Problem solved. Also, all moffs from today forward are banned from naming ships." Lil Sis commanded. MEANWHILE, IN REPUBLIC SPACE... "JORGAN! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING IN THE SHOWER!" Havoc1 yelled. Aric Jorgan immediately came running to the bathroom, and then his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. His CO was standing there, completely naked, her only accessory the assault cannon she held pointed into the shower stall. "Sir, its a... hairball, sir." Jorgan tried to reply while averting his eyes for the sake of modesty. It was improper for him to stare at his commanding officer, especially when she was doing the two things at once that a woman can do to excite a military man- be naked, and carry a gun. "You have hairballs?" Havoc1 responded. "I'm Cathar sir. It's a completely normal and hygienic part of our grooming rituals." Aric explained while looking the other direction. "And its no worse than that black grease you wash your hair with that stains the tile grout." "That black grease is horn wax, and its a completely normal and hygienic part of ZABRAK grooming rituals, sergeant." Havoc1 rolled her eyes. "And the fact that the Senate bureaucrats failed to install stain-resistant tile in the shower per my request is only just another case on the long list of politicians stepping on the military's toes." "That doesn't explain why you're naked and carrying a gun, sir." Jorgan rebutted. "I'm naked because I was going to take a shower. I don't know how you Cathar do it, but for my species, it involves being nude and pouring hot water on yourself." Havoc1 sneered. "Do you always shower with your weapon, sir?" Jorgan asked, thinking it was kind of hot. "No. I ran and grabbed my weapon because your completely normal and hygienic grooming ritual moved. Or is it supposed to do that, sergeant?" Havoc1 asked. "No, it isn't. Kill it. Kill it with fire."

THURSDAY MORNING FILLING STATION HOLDUP We're wanted men, we'll strike again, but first let's have a beer! Servant One: The Wrath went to a party for her little sister. Servant Two: Who just hit 50. Servant One: Wow really? That fast? Servant Two: She's an assassin, they grow like weeds. Servant One: How is that possible? Servant Two: Well, there's fundamentally nothing the class can't do. Servant One: Well, they can't charge. Servant Two: They sprint instead. Servant One: They don't really have a big awesome AOE spell like Death from Above or Orbital Strike to clear packs with. Servant Two: They don't fight packs, they have stealth. Servant One: They don't get free loot automatically. Servant Two: That's actually true, you have to go into the preferences menu and check the little box that says "ASSASSIN MASTER RACE ROLL HACKS" in order to get the free loot. Servant One: Wait, that can't actually exist. Servant Two: Roll one. Find out. The Wrath pulled her older sister aside in the alcove as they entered the bar. "Help me out here. So I don't look like an idiot." "Huh? Why would you look like an idiot?" PE#1 asked. "I don't know any of her friends. I've barely even met her. Quinn downloaded a dossier on all her cronies for me to read on the way here this morning, but..." The Wrath explained. "But you didn't read it." PE#1 rolled her eyes. "Well I wanted too. I mean I really did. But Quinn put Jimmy Buffett on the stereo around lunch time, and Vette and I got into a serious Margarita thing, and I've kind of spent the whole evening just trying to roll my buzz from beer to beer so I don't get a headache and I'm in no state to read." The Wrath admitted. "You have a problem." PE#1 insisted. "The margaritas didn't have that much tequila in them. Vette can't mix a drink to save her life." The Wrath defended. "Not that. I mean listening to Jimmy Buffett." PE#1 sneered. "I kind of like Jimmy. He's mellow. Besides, . You'd like that one." The Wrath retorted. "You like NASPOD too. You're like Huttese white trash." PE#1 joked. "I'm white trash? As if. Our mother was a lying, gambling, drunken gold digger, and you're the only she actually raised. I saw the family photo album on the holonet. She gave birth to you on a pazaak table. You're like the white trash heiress of the family." The Wrath shot back. "That'd be you. I'm not missing any teeth." "I'm not missing any teeth..." The Wrath replied, confused. "Not yet you're not, it was a threat." PE#1 sneered. Which was redundant, because the only time she didn't sneer was when she was cleaning her guns and couldn't sneer because she had a cleaning rod or a wire brush in her mouth. "Whatever, so who does Lil Sis hang out with, a bunch of sociopaths like you?" The Wrath asked. "Only half of them are sociopaths." PE#1 rolled her eyes. Yep, its an eye rolling chapter. "On your ship or hers?" The Wrath asked. "To be fair, both." PE#1 shrugged. "The goober in the uniform on the end there is lieutenant Drelik, from Imperial Reclamations. He's alright I guess, an excitable nerd really." "Is she dating him?" The Wrath asked. "Ew. No. You're the only who likes book worms. Maybe he's more your speed." PE#1 replied. "The creep on the end is one of her apprentices, Xalek. He doesn't talk a lot, so don't worry much about that. He mostly just stands there and waits." "Waits for what?" "Opportunities for violence." "Sounds like your kind of people." The Wrath rolled her eyes. Family affair. "The caramel colored hottie with the guns is her boyfriend. Space pirate. Tough guy, amateur torturer and revenge artist. Man after my own heart." PE#1 explained. "Is there anyone on her crew that isn't a nutcase?" The Wrath asked. "There's the Jedi, and if Darth Zash is in the giant green freak parade, she's actually pretty nice." PE#1 shrugged. The Wrath looked at the blue and orange togruta woman, who she assumed to be the jedi. She was wearing an impressive scowl that was more than appropriate for a Wrath family reunion, looked rather pouty, and didn't seem to be in a mood to chat. "Wait, you're telling me that giant thing that looks like a battletoad is a Darth?" The Wrath asked. "Well yea. Its possessed. Its either Darth Zash or an ancient bajillion year old right-hand assassin of Tulak Hord, whichever soul is in charge at the moment." PE#1 explained. "Alright, I'm sorry I asked. Is Sith Inquisitor story really that screwed up?" The Wrath asked. "She spent Chapter 2 running around the galaxy talking to ghosts." PE#1 explained. "Ghosts? Like with a Ouija board?" The Wrath asked incredulously. "Ghosts, like " PE#1 insisted. "Whatever. Get me a beer." The Wrath shrugged and went to go greet her sister. I pulled into the regular pump, I was feeling quite at ease. Rolled down the window and told the man, "fifty cents worth, please." The Wrath shambled over to the booth where her little sister was, big sister behind her. "Little Sis! Congrats on 50!" She shouted, and hugged her awkwardly... actually, mostly just half-drunkenly. Lil Sis had the decency to hug back. Then the giant green freakish thing giggled and pinched her cheek. "Oh just look at you!" Darth Zash said. "Why, you look close enough alike to be twins. That's so adorable! Its like I have two apprentices." Then out jumped my partner with his trusty pellet gun. "Thanks for coming Middle Sis." Lil Sis grinned. "Oh, where are my manners. This is Darth Zash, of course. For the moment. I killed her and now she's in my slave's body. Sith Sorcery." HE SAID, "BOY THIS IS A HOLD-UP, KEEP A PUMPIN' AND DON'T RUN!" "Quite an embarrassing little accident I assure you. You see I was going to betray her and steal her cute little youth for my own, but if I had known you two were such a matched pair, I would have tried to collect the both of you!" Darth Zash explained. "Well... Thank you I guess?" The Wrath was confused. Now I wish I were somewhere other than here. "Don't mind her. She's always really sweet, its a little unnerving at first, coming from the Dashade, but you get used to it." The togruta explained. "Oh. Thanks..." "Ashara Zavros. Jedi Padawan." The togruta spat. "Oh. Aren't you a little far from home for a jedi? I mean I have a jedi apprentice, I convinced her to come with me after I exposed her Master for a hypocrite and defeated him." The Wrath explained. "She abducted me and then used me to lure out my Sith Ghost ancestor and feasted on his essence." Ashara huffed. Down in some honky-tonk, sippin' on a beer. "Oh my god! Sis! Are you really keeping this poor girl against her will? That's terrible." The Wrath gasped. "She's not here against her will." Lil Sis scoffed. "She's just a bratty sub that likes to pout when I don't pay attention to her." "Huh? Sub?" The Wrath asked. Yes, I wish I were somewhere other than here. "If she was really uncomfortable, she would have used the safe word." Lil Sis added. "That's what you said last night." Ashara pouted. "That's what you said last night, mistress." Lil Sis corrected. "And you didn't say the word last night either, you enjoyed every bit of it." "Wait, what?" The Wrath started. "There was nothing wrong with the play time! You didn't cuddle afterwards!" Ashara shot back. "I am not drunk enough to be dealing with this level of weird relationship baggage right now." The Wrath mumbled. "And I apologized for that and promised to make it up to you. I had no idea it meant that much to you." Lil Sis ammended. "Now be a good little slave and sit down and be quiet before the mistress loses her patience and punishes you right here before the Empire, her sisters, and everyone." "You won't." Ashara pouted. "You won't, mistress." Lil Sis corrected. "And I will. I will and I'll enjoy it." "Please don't." The Wrath pleaded with Ashara. "Huh? But you're Sith. Aren't you-" Ashara replied. "I'm Light Side 5. Not into that." The Wrath answered. "OH! I'm sorry..." Ashara turned a different shade of orange. She sat down. "I told you she was just bratty." Lil Sis shrugged. "So do you know about that Jedi temple on Corellia?" The Wrath asked. "The one that fronts as a reliquary? I freakin' love that temple." Lil Sis exclaimed. "Can we do shots? If this is going to be a regular thing at our family reunions, I need to get trashed." The Wrath proposed. That great fillin' station holdup cost me 2 good years. ALSO, THIS. http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?p=3848265#post3848265