REJECTED KNIGHTS OF THE OLD REPUBLIC AUDITIONS 3

He’d always been good at reading people’s eyes, the way they flickered over a hand card or lingered on the deck, but he couldn’t interpret her expression. Could she forgive him or did she plan to mow him down with that lightsaber of hers and leave his body here with the rest of the trash? He knew he should feel alarmed at the thought, but he just felt numb.

One thing was for sure, she’d never felt so content after a cantina hunt before. That in itself was somewhat disconcerting. In the holovids after a night like the previous one, the dashing young hero would sweep his beautiful conquest up into his arms, take her to his ship and they’d fly off together to live happily ever after, somehow overcoming all obstacles in their path. This was not a holovid, however. This was the real world. A world where the after effects of her mistakes haunted her every day and the restlessness always came creeping back in. Her only consolation was that Atton was just as broken as she was. Hopefully he would understand.

The cutest creatues in the whole of star wars!

“Where is she?”

“She? Meaning who?”

“Meaning Dari,” Carth replied, annoyed. “Tall, redhead, drinks like a fish?”

Mission leaned back, the nervous look in her eyes fading bit by bit. “I, uh, haven’t seen her.”

Forever?
Carth shook his head and laughed inwardly. What was forever? Years of fighting in the galaxy and he should have known better there was no such thing as forever. Forever was a luxury word in times like this. He shouldn’t even dream of forever.

"Vrook once told me, ‘Judge yourself before you judge others.’ … Not that he was the best example to follow where that was concerned, however."

"Statement: Well done Master! Decapitation is a most efficient and satisfying form of meatbag termination. Hopeful Query: Do you expect more meatbags to attack us?"

Revan lay upon her bed in the Ebon Hawk, allowing her mind to wonder for the first time in a long time.

(A brief interlude of philosophy and random questioning of existence with everyone's favorite Dark Lord.)

Evie had had her arms wrapped around her knees when she’d been staring out the window, but now they were by her sides, her hands clutching the edge of her mattress tightly.

“Ever since I was little,” she began, staring at her bare feet, “I’ve been trying to find something constant.”

She took a deep, slow breath, trying not to cry in front of him. Trying not to cry, period, actually. Soldiers didn’t cry.

Atton Rand is good at winning the games he plays in his head. But what happens when he starts to lose?

Well Carth was just fine tuning the Ebon Hawk...shirtless...

All Carth wanted to do was get drunker than hell and pass out.

“Sir, I count twenty-one cruiser sized capital ships, several flights of enemy fighter-craft and several salvage ships working on crippled battleships. I also have their flagship dead ahead, sir.”

“All hands prepare for evasive action.” Even as he said it, Markus could feel the great ship’s inertial dampeners strain as his pilot dove, franticly searching for an escape from the capital ships bearing down on them from all sides

Three KotOR 2 gag sketches.

Quick sketches of Kotor Faces from games 1 & 2 and the comics.

"Crummy Mandalorian jerk." Dustil muttered glaring at the door.

“Think they can throw me out, do they?” she grumbled, tightening a bolt on the hyperdrive’s underside. “Think I’m too attached . . .  What a load of—”

     She broke off abruptly as a loud hissing noise informed her that she’d just hit something sensitive under there.  Immediately, coolant sprayed all over the engine room, and Lire got out from underneath the hyperdrive as fast as she could.

“No, it’s fine,” Lire replied. “I’ll go back to the Hawk and . . . and rest.  I just pray that you’ll figure out how damned ridiculous throwing me out is.”

"Revan wake up!  Come on we're gonna miss it!"

"What are you talking about?" said Revan as he looked over at Malak, his best friend for the past two years, who at this moment was standing at the side of his bed and had his face two inches from Revan's. 

Inside the house was soft and cozy, with an unlit fireplace, wood table and chairs, a soft couch and holodesk. The kitchen beyond was clean and orderly, utensils and dishes put away and not a single microbe of dust to be found. She went to the holodesk and started about looking through mail when she heard a knock. Pulling off her apron, she hurried to the door and pulled it open. Standing on her front door, robes, lightsabers and all, were two Jedi.

Shira stared at his smiling mouth and his pebbly eyes. “You can’t seriously believe that everyone in the galaxy is miserable.”

The grass swayed in the breeze, trailing long fingers over their legs.

“Hey, I’m just speaking from experience here,” Atton said. “The people I know just weren’t made to be happy, together or apart. Even your precious Jedi Order seems to think as much. If I remember correctly, they say a little something about ‘no attachments’?”

Closing her eyes, Shira kissed him, and all at once, the wind caught them in its embrace, swirling the grass around them. For a moment, she imagined that this might be the best freedom she had ever known, the feeling of being imprisoned in this man’s arms, the urgency of his lips against hers. Their bodies sunk down amidst the grass, becoming just two small forms upon the broad, darkening plain. She knew it was wrong, that she was making an impulsive mistake, and yet the thought was not enough.

She led him out of the refugee sector and to a large hotel. The clientele consisted almost entirely of criminals, mostly high level members of the Exchange. This in itself was not surprising: crime thrived on Nar Shaddaa. What was surprising was that there was a Jedi in their midst. Atton couldn’t understand why Sarai, who strove to eradicate corruption wherever she found it, would come to a place like this.  

After the epic events of Kotor I and Kotor II, Revan and the Exile have left all known space. But to what result? Five years after the happenings of Kotor II and ten years after Kotor I there is still no sign. The loved ones they left behind are worrying, and day by day hope fades that the two will ever return.

But now, they have taken it among themselves to find their heroes. And so, the search for the Unknown regions begins

Revan put on her best phony happy face and chanted. “Jolee, when you’re right, you’re right. And you sir are definitely right. And because you are right…” she glared at Carth as if telling him to go along with what she was saying, “Carth now sees the light.”

Carth looked at Revan quizzically. Revan nudged him with her elbow, “Right?”

Carth looked at Jolee and nodded solemnly while Canderous nodded off for the umpteenth time since the story began.

“So, Master Vandar,” she began, “what brings you to my little slice of paradise?”

“I am concerned about disturbances in the Force.”

“Oh, here we go!” thought Dodonna ruefully. “Disturbances in the Force! Why can't the Jedi just come out and say they're worried about something?”

“Thanks for letting me out of the medbay early, Jolee . . . I really appreciate being able to run around even though I’m not supposed to . . .”

The overwhelming sense of loss still hung over Alevia when she awoke. She hadn’t had that particular nightmare since before Malachor and she’d almost forgotten it had happened. She’d been eleven. She sat on the edge of her bunk for a moment and tried to regain her mental balance. In some ways it was comforting to be having her own nightmares again and not her pilot’s. At least this gnawing, hollow feeling was familiar to her.