My mistake. Didn't mean to jump to conclusions. Don't see why that's such an important thing, however.

I, for one, believe that SWTOR's new expansion, Rise of the Hutt Cartel, is a great idea. People have been waiting for a long time to continue the story in of SWTOR, and now we'll finally be able to again. As long as Makeb isn't just a reskin with a few changes, I can say that I'm looking forward to adventuring again. And while it's not a full-blown expansion that we've come to expect from games like WoW, it's significantly less then those. Instead of paying the price of the game to play an almost essential part of the game on top of the price of the game, this is only $10, $20 max. That's cheap, when it comes to games. That being said, I am concerned about how the raising of the level cap is going to work. What will they do with all of the max level PvP and PvE gear? Will it be moved up to 55? Will they introduce new, more powerful sets for the new max level? What will happen to all of our expensive max level cosmetic crystals? Will we have to rebuy them if we want to be fully geared? Overall, I'm excited. But cautiously excited. I want this game to do well. Hopefully, this won't be another reason for more hate.

Well, I'm back from my super long hiatus of writer's block (For which I apologize,) and I come bearing a new chapter! This one is probably my favorite so far, and has a good dose of action and intrigue. Chapter Eight- New Acquaintances, New Adversaries Three Months have Passed since the Events on Nar Shaddaa Deep in the barren reaches of space, a lone space station drifted along, it’s engines broken and its hull dented, scraped, and burned. The hangar doors had been shut. No ships had made contact with the station for quite a long time. There were no planets nearby. No bright and shining stars close by. No belts of space rocks. There was nothing save cold, dead, empty space. “I don’t like it.” Titus muttered as he approached the cockpit’s window of the Oppressor. “Why not, sir? There are no living things nearby, what’s not to like?” B7-A4 responded as he walked up to the bounty hunter. “Something’s not right here. I don’t know why I’d be sent here if it wasn’t dangerous. I don’t like it. It’s too…… Empty.” Titus muttered to himself. He then turned to A4. “Run some scans as we pull in. See what’s what.” He said. The droid nodded. A moment passed. “Scans indicate that this is indeed the Titan-VI Mining station. Logs indicate that it fell out of orbit of Titan-VI approximately seven and a half months ago. A scan of the subsystems indicate that engines, weapons, and fuel storage are offline and that all escape pods have been jettisoned. The main reactor is still live and active. And strangely still supplying power. Hangars are offline, though a hack of the cameras shows a frigate docked in Hangar 3B. Communications have been jammed.” A4 spoke as if he had known these things forever. Titus nodded, his hands stroking his chin, which was scruffy and untrimmed. He hadn’t had time to shave since he joined the Grey Cartel. “That’s… Not normal. Most mining stations disable all of their systems after they’re no longer needed. And strip it of anything useful. This entire thing is against standard.” Titus thought out loud. “Master if I may, that fact that hangars are offline, yet a frigate has docked is also against standards. I’d also point out that the frigate is a model introduced five months ago.” A4 chimed in. Titus nodded. After a moment, he turned. “I suppose we have little choice either way. The Cartel said my partner would be waiting for me within. See if you can find some place to dock. I’ll be suiting up.” “Yes, Master.” The heavy metal doors slid open with a hiss of air. As the doors closed, the hunter in the armored suit stepped out. He lifted a finger to his ear. “A4, you there?” “Coming in loud and clear master. I’m uploading the station’s map to your HUD now. You should probably kno-“ A4’s transmission ended abruptly in static, then another voice came into Titus’ ear without warrant. “Hunter Titus? This is Agent Vecelia of the Grey Cartel. I’ve been assigned to assist you on this mission.” A woman’s voice came through. “Who are you? Where are you? How did you know I was here? How did you access the comlink?” “There will be time for questions when we meet. For know you must know that you’re in a lot of danger. They already know you’re here.” “Who’s ‘they?’” “The Black Sun.” “Why are they here?” “Questions later. For now, you need to get out. Tell your droid to send your ship to orbit. I’m transmitting a map of the station to your datapad. A squad is coming for you. I’m aware you want to stay and fight. Don’t lose your tactical advantage. They need to be unsure of your skills. Right now you need to hide. There’s a storage unit nearby. Go there. Wait inside.” Titus was unsure what to think. Was this woman telling the truth? Should he trust her? She knew who he was, and who sent him. And he didn’t have reason to distrust her. At least not yet. He told A4 to leave the station and head into orbit, staying nearby. He then accessed the station’s map from his wrist datapad. He located the storage unit, and started running there at a brisk pace. He reached the door, realizing it was locked. He heard noises coming from far down the hallway. Metal footsteps. Titus searched for the lock mechanism on the heavy steel doors. Finding it, he fumbled with the keypad. It was a digital pad with a code. Realizing that he’d never guess the pass, and that the footsteps were getting closer, he stepped back, and then delivered a swift right punch to the terminal. The blade shot out, stabbing the device and scrambling the electronics. The terminal sizzled for a few moments, and then the door unlocked. Titus stepped inside, and shut the door. And in perfect time too. The footsteps passed right as the door closed. He heard voices speaking in a different language as they passed by. Titus heaved a sigh of relief, then turned around to look around. The storage unit was a room full of lockers of mining equipment. The suits of mining armor had been stolen, but there were still fusion torches and plasma cutters resting in storage compartments. There was also a collection of strange saw-type tools and jackhammers. Titus reached down and pocketed a plasma cutter impulsively. He felt like he might need it later. “Classily done, Titus.” Vecelia’s voice cam over the com-channel. “I suppose now you want some answers?” She said. “That can wait until we meet. Which we need to do. What’s your position?” Titus responded. “I’m currently located in a supply closet near the Emergency Armory.” She said. Titus checked the map. The Armory was on the complete other end of the ship, close to an auxiliary reactor. “Alright, I’d best be on my way then.” “Indeed. You should try and find a new weapon from one of the Black Sun gang members. That Bantha blaster of yours won’t cut it against the arms that the Black Sun is sure to have.” And with that, Vecelia’s voice cut out. Titus nodded to himself, stepping over towards the door. He pushed it open, and stepped out into the hallway. He looked down to left, then to the right. Coming out from a corner at the far right was the group of men he’d narrowly escaped from earlier. “****.” He muttered to himself, stepping out further into the hall, revealing himself completely. Before the group of three men could react, Titus lifted his wrist and shot the towcable. The piercing point stabbed one of the men, a Rodian, in the shoulder. He screeched in pain as Titus pulled him off his feet towards him. When the Rodian got within a few feet of the hunter, He punched him square in the chest. He fell backwards as the cable retracted into Titus’ wrist. As the Rodian lay sprawled on the ground, Titus jumped towards it, stomping its chest with his heavy boot. As the alien cowered in pain, Titus shot it in the eye, killing it immediately. By this time the other two had drawn their weapons and started running towards Titus. One carried a crude vibroblade, the other an expensive looking Repeater Rifle. The one with the gun fired a volley at Titus, who tried to duck out of the way of the shots. A stray bolt struck Titus’ foot, draining his shields by 15%. He stood up and fired some shots of his own. One hit the blade-wielder in the chest, but he seemed unphased. The other shots missed either adversary. The enemy carrying the blade, who was a Trandosian, reached Titus, swinging the sword at his neck. Titus ducked the swing and unleashed a torrent of flames at the Trando’s legs. The alien’s heavy cotton pants quickly ignited. It screamed in anguish, feverishly batting at its legs in an attempt to put the fire out. Titus took advantage of this, using the opportunity to disable the alien’s hands with his pistol. It was then that he took a second volley in the arm. The shots were absorbed, but his shield dropped down to 10% capacity. A red light was flashing inside the helmet, adding to the mayhem. Titus resolved to be more careful with an adversary carrying a ranged weapon. As the Trandosian finally extinguished the fire, Titus released another burst at it, igniting its whole body. The alien dropped to the ground, flailing to put flames out. Titus left him there, then moved on to the other. The third enemy had been firing inaccurate shots at Titus, not wanting to wound his Trandosian ally. When Titus turned, another volley was shot. He dodged these, then fired his own. Two bolts hit the human enemy, who fired more of his own shots. Titus took a bolt in the head, draining the shields completely. Worried, Titus used his jumpjets to dart forward and punch the in the head. He took the retractable blade in the temple, and collapsed to the ground, spilling blood all over the floor. Titus turned to the Trandosian, still lying on the floor, and cut its throat with its own vibroblade. To the victor go the spoils, and Titus scooped up the repeater from the ground and examined it. Deciding to keep it, he attached it to the back of his armor, with allowed a section to become magnetized and held the rifle in place. Three corpses behind him, Titus moved on deeper into the station.

I've been stuck on this chapter for quite some time and can't think of anything to write. I know what the premise should be, but not how to execute it. Why did I rush?

Okay, really short chapter, just so I can move on to something different. Gonna go through and edit the spacing, as was suggested. Chapter Seven- Yymir the Grey Titus stepped into the Bastion’s atrium, his boots clanging against the metal floor. He leaned against a wall, turning on the suit’s wrist-datapad. He looked over his personal mail, reading some of the confirmation emails that the Grey Cartel had sent him. He read the contract, and signed it, sending it to Lieutenant Isaac. It was then that he heard a noise coming from the main hallway. A lot of footsteps, and some yelling. Moving to get a better look, Titus peered down the hall, seeing a group of bodies walking. Two tall men dressed in black Sith robes were in front of a man. They were walking quickly. Another pair of guards came into view as the party got closer. Titus moved from his view, waiting for the people to pass to get a better look. As the group entered the room, everyone else seemed to come to attention. The guards entered first, carrying electrostaves in their right hands. Then followed the man behind them. This person was dressed in an elaborate set of flowing grey robes that covered most of his body. His face was covered by a shadow due to the fact he was wearing his hood up. Every time the man took a step, Titus could hear the metallic sounds of battle armor. The man was probably wearing it underneath his robes. The robed man wasn’t very tall, but he was well built. Muscular, as far as Titus could tell. He seemed to have an aura about him that demanded the respect of others. The man’s belt was an armored weave of cloth and some kind of metal, and an oddly shaped lightsaber hung from the left side. The hilt was thin and long, but curved towards the bottom. A section of glass showed the saber’s crystal suspended by the machinery within. The crystal was a deep violet, like that of the Uuskus flower, native to Naboo. Everything that this man wore seemed expensive, as if it had all been handmade specifically for him. He walked like he held control over everyone in the room, yet he kept himself shadowy, saving his identity for those who mattered enough to see it. The man and his guards passed Titus and exited down a different hallway, everyone standing and watching until their footsteps died away. There was something strange about that man. Titus stopped a woman as she walked by. “Who was that man who just walked past?” He asked, his voice being distorted by the helmet. The woman turned and looked at him. Titus realized he towered over her. “That was the leader of the Grey Cartel, Lord Yymir the Grey.” She responded. “Why’s he called that?” “What, Lord?” “No, ‘The Grey.’” “Because, before creating the Cartel, he was a master of the Jedi. He then left the Order and joined the Sith, becoming a Lord of the Sith. Apparently he decided to leave them too, and founded his own organization. He’s obsessed with the color Grey, and the idea of neutrality that it represents. Or so the stories say.” The woman responded, before she walked away. Lord of the Sith, and Master Jedi? Clearly this person was in touch with the Force, if what that woman had said was true. Titus got the feeling it was true. He also got the feeling that he’d see that Grey Jedi again. Much like the bounty hunters from Hutta.

Another chapter. This one's pretty lengthy. A lot of dialogue. I promise we'll see some action soon. Chapter Six- The Grey Cartel Titus arrived at the Grey Bastion ten minutes before his appointment. His taxi touched down in a huge hangar, set into the side of the tower. On his way in, Titus had noticed a few things that made him curious. AA guns mounted on pivots set into the tower at regular intervals. Numerous hangars scattered around, that, upon inspection, revealed scores of oddly shaped fighters. Walkways wrapping around the tower with numerous patrolling sentries. Titus thought he saw some lightsabers amongst the patrols. This place was not a business building. This was a fortress. Titus thought of the things that implicated. Titus stepped into the huge main atrium that a hallway led to. A large square room with vaulted ceilings that seemed to be miles high. On each end of the room were giant statues made of stone, resembling a man with his hands held as fists beside him, dressed in flowing robes. Titus noticed a lightsaber on the statue’s belt. Hanging from the statues at about navel level were flowing grey flags with red trim. The symbol in the middle of the flag was a black fractured ring with red flames in the middle. What was this place? The Bounty Hunter walked over to a desk, with a young human female sitting behind a terminal. “I’m here to meet a representative.” Titus said to the woman. “Name?” She asked, not bothering to look up from her terminal. “Titus.” “You’re to be meeting with Lieutenant Isaac in room 372.” The woman responded, glancing up at Titus. “Thank you.” Titus walked away from the desk. Lieutenant? Did he manage to get himself involved in some kind of private military? His curiosity was piqued, and that propelled his footsteps. It was only then that he realized he had no idea where he was going. Titus stepped into room 372, taking his armored pilot’s helmet off. The room was a small, yet comfortable office space, with a grey fur rug that looked artificial, with two sofa chairs set in the corner. This was set against a large window, facing the galaxy famous Club Naga, with it’s blinding neon features. A desk close to the back wall was manned by a protocol droid. The droid wasn’t very unique, like B7-A4, but was instead one of the millions of generic, silver plated droid used by anyone of little importance. The droid pushed a button, and a side door slid open. “Come in.” Called a voice from within. It was masculine, and human. Titus walked in, holding his helmet in his left arm. Sitting at a desk in the room was a large-built man, wearing a grey Imperial Officer-style uniform with red trim. His office had another large window, facing Club Naga. He also had a painting on the wall, of the planet Alderaan. “Welcome Titus. I am Lieutenant Isaac of the Grey Cartel. Have a seat.” Isaac pointed at a metal chair with a pillow built into the seat. Titus sat down, putting his helmet on the floor. Isaac looked over him, seeming to grunt with disgust. “Your armor is in…. unseemly condition. That is one thing we’ll fix if you join our ranks. But I bet you want an explanation first.” Isaac asked, raising an eyebrow. Titus nodded. “Indeed.” He responded curtly. “Well, what we do is a little muddy and often times misconstrued. A lot of people believe we’re like the Hutt Cartel in that we partake in illegal acts and criminal wars. That’s not true. We are a mercenary contracting company and bounty collection board. The word “Cartel” was added to the company’s name by its creator and owner, Yymir the Grey. Simply put, we help private parties solve their private matters. Each of our mercenaries operates individually on most contracts. However, occasionally work will require multiple beings be put together to achieve a goal. I assure you, this will not be an unpleasant experience.” This kind of talk continued on for quiet some time, Isaac listing off monetary benefits to working under the Grey Cartel, what the Cartel would provide for its workers and what it would not, what its laws were, the command structure, and other small, unimportant factoids. Titus remained silent throughout the majority of this. “One thing I will tell you is that when you come here, you leave your allegiances and other affiliations aside. We employ both Sith and Jedi here, along with people located within any faction. We do not discriminate against anyone’s previous or current occupations. That being said, neither will you. Nor will anyone else you meet here. Leave your fights outside, for we have no place for them. Is this understood, Titus?” Isaac asked. The first time he’d actually seemed to really talk to the Hunter. “Yes, Lieutenant.” Titus replied. “Good. I’ll have my droid send you your contract and other legalities. Thank you for your time, you’ll be notified when we need you.” Isaac said, standing up from his desk. Titus did as well, and they shook hands in the middle of the room before Titus departed. As Titus found his way into the atrium once again, he received an alert from A4, telling him to go the Bastion’s armory. He consulted a map, then made his way to the armory. Upon entering, he was astounded by the array of arms and armor. Suits of Bounty Hunter armor was mounted to one wall, while a set of grey Sith robes hung off a mannequin. He also noted several styles of Echani fighter armor. Sitting in glass cases were selections of blasters, rifles, blades, knives, cannons, lightsaber hilts, and some of the most unconventional pieces of equipment he’d ever seen. The whole place was an array of the most spectacular killing and protecting devices in Nar Shadaa. A man stood behind a counter, dressed in a full suit of armored Jedi robes. He was polishing a small double-bladed lightsaber. Titus approached, and the Jedi looked up. “First Rank Hunter Titus. I am Arms Master Diagon Ult. I’ve been told you needed a new set of gear?” The Jedi questioned, putting down the saber. Titus nodded. The Jedi nodded, and then went into a room at the back. He came back with a droid behind him, the machine carrying a folded up set of armor. Titus looked it over. He couldn’t see exactly how it looked, but he noticed it was grey and red, and was in much better condition then Titus’s own armor. The droid handed the suit to Titus, who held it in his arms, marveling at its weight. It was both heavy, yet light. Light for its size. The Jedi motioned to another room. “Try it on.” Titus came out of the room in a suit of armor that looked the part. The undersuit was a tight black material, which had the pieces of armor mounted on top of it. This included a grey breastplate with red trim, gauntlets, legplates, boots, a belt, bracers, and a piece of armor centered on the waist. All of these pieces bore the same color scheme. On the right shoulderplate was the symbol of the Grey Cartel, the black circle with the red flames. The armor was of a simple design, nothing two fancy. However, it was functional, and came with a few pieces of equipment that only a Hunter would use. The right gauntlet had a flamethrower set into it, which got fuel from a backpack. The left gauntlet had a magnetic towcable that could also be fitted with a piercing spearhead that came included. The cable was black and hidden within the gauntlet as a secret tool. Upon clicking the heels together, blades would stick out of the sides of the boots, useful in a hand-to-hand fight. Also set into the boots were two small jumpjets. They wouldn’t be used for prolonged flight, but for mobility. In a pinch, the backpack could be burst open, spewing the fuel behind the armor’s user. Titus looked over the armor as he stepped out. It felt good on him. He hadn’t felt real armor before, since he’d only had his broken flightsuit-armor. “Whadaya think?” Asked the Jedi, looking over the armor himself. He seemed to smile. “I like it. A lot.” Titus replied, feeling the weight of it as he moved his arms. The Jedi reached underneath the counter, and held up a Bounty Hunter’s helmet. It was a simple styled helmet, grey with red trim like usual. Set into the middle was a red Mandalorian style T visor. Not an exact T, more angular. But it was undoubtedly in Mandalorian style. The Jedi handed the helm to Titus, who looked it over before putting it on. The visor was black from within. Titus ripped the data chip from his old armor’s vambraces, and put in a slot at the back of the helm. The inside of the helmet flicked on with a HUD. The visor didn’t have a color from within, nor did it seem to limit his vision. A small icon of a person showed up in the lower left corner, with individual sections outlined and colored green. This was his vitals, and the color would change based on his armor’s condition. A robotic voice crackled through the holocom set at ear level. “Hello master! My readings indicate you’ve received a new set of equipment! I’m already working diligently to move all of your data between your old suit, your new suit, and the Oppressor. I can help you familiarize yourself with the armor upon your return. Also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a retractable echani gauntlet-blade in the right hand. Simply punch to activate. Good bye master!” The voice came to a stop, and Titus tested out the retractable blade. He punched the air, feeling the knife blade jump forward. Lethal. He then fired the towcable against the wall, feeling it stick, and become tight. He then detached it, watching it fly back into his gauntlet. This whole suit was amazing to him. “Glad you like it.” Diagon Ult said, waving Titus away. Titus nodded, then left the vault of equipment.

Name: Mustardcheese (Call me Drilian.) Availability: Pretty much free whenever. Besides school hours, of course. Classes: Pretty much all of them, besides Consular. Genres: I'm open to anything. Cred: Hunter Contact Info: PM for email or other form of contact.

Don't know if we're still discussing it or if we've moved on to husbands, but I'd totally be down with a critique thread.

Thanks for the feedback! What do you mean when you say "absence of paragraph breaks?"

Thanks, that helps.

I need help coming up with a name for an organization. Something underworld-y, that hires out bounty hunters and mercenary for private contractors. So something like the Hutt Cartel, I guess. Though I want a unique name. Currently I have "Red Marauders" but that's just so incredibly cheesy.

I could complain about my lack of comments, but that'd sound a little whiny. Instead, I'll complain about things I hate about my writings. I feel like everything I write is really cheesy, and comes off as really boring. I lack much action in anything I write, because I'm not good at pacing. I also tend to focus on the little things, trying to put meaning into something bland and uninteresting. I can never come up with names that sound good, for people, places, or things. I can never translate the image I have in my head of something totally awesome into something written that's awesome. Not really a rant, but it's the thought that counts, no?

Nice little story. I for one hate the Trooper story, but I'm glad you like it.

Title: Hunter Link Author: Myself. Class: Technically Bounty Hunter.

Well, I'm new here so I figured I might as well just start. I do, quite a bit. I always get inspiration from the things I do. Usually gaming, though I'll find inspiration in movies as well sometimes. I always draw from gaming because it's something I'm passionate about, and because it's something I get. I'm a sucker for games with good story, and I'll always think of ways I could incorporate something really cool that I saw in a game into my writings.