((The RP XP with MJ #26))

The Padawan Tarik strained himself to the point of a splitting headache, reaching out with the Force to see if the young Rattataki woman next to him was true to her word.

Is there such a thing as atonement or regret among the Sith, or was this a ploy?

“You can turn off the sensor beam into my soul, Zabrak. By now you know I’m telling you the truth. Don’t overdo it.”

Tarik glanced over his shoulder at the covered body of his master as the speeder made a sharp turn. Then he looked at Veetha.

“Don’t talk to me, Sith. I’ll do the talking.”

A smile curled over Veetha’s black lips. After a moment of silence, she said, “That’ll make it hard for me to answer questions, you know.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. “You could’ve killed me and you didn’t. Why?”

“A good question that I already answered. Try another.”

“Try answering it again — and make sense of it this time!”

Veetha smiled at him. “The reason I am accompanying you on the return of your master’s corpse is because I wish to help the Republic.”

Tarik huffed. “Help the Republic? Why?”

“I have my reasons.”

He glanced at her as the speeder slowed its descent toward a secret Jedi enclave on Coruscant. “You said you’d answer my questions.”

“That was an answer, Tarik.”

Tarik gasped. “How did you know my name? I never told you.”

Veetha smiled. “Now that, my friend, is a good question.”

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((The RP XP with MJ #25))

Yulel slowly lifted her head and tried to open her eyes, but something was wrapped tightly around her eyes and pinching her lekku to the back of her head. A blindfold.

She didn’t remember much beyond running and gunning. That damn Gand pilot had dropped her right in the middle of a separatist hot zone and she paid the price…

By running into a tree when she was firing back over her shoulder.

Well, at least they didn’t kill me, the young Twi’lek smuggler smirked to herself.

Her eyes useless, she tried her other senses. She heard the low hum of a generator behind her, the high-pitched whine of a repulsorlift on a speeder hovering just outside the room where she was held. The echo of the speeder through the wall gave her the impression that she was inside a garage of some sort, possibly a side office.

The air smelled of sea spray and engine oil with a slight tang of electrical ozone from separatist forcefields. “Mannett Point,” she smirked again. “Figures.”

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((The RP XP with MJ #24))

The Zabrak Padawan lay cradling his dead master as the two Sith approached, their crimson blades vibrating the air as he looked helplessly up at them.

Tarik knew this was it. He had always wondered how his end would come and actually hoped it would be in combat against Sith side-by-side with his master. Of course Tarik never saw the Sith slowly stalking him after slaying his master from a distance in any of his wishful visions, not giving either of them a chance to defend themselves.

“Get it over with!” He yelled at them, his eyes welling with tears though he tried to suppress his emotions.

Most of them.

The Rattataki girl spoke first after giving her saber a threatening twirl. “He seems angry, my lord. Perhaps we can turn him.”

Darth Tagious never took his yellow eyes off the Padawan. He merely said, “He’s yours, Veetha. Play with him awhile. I will meet you at the Works.”

“Of course, my master,” Veetha’s smile was as sly as a vine cat’s.

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((The RP XP with MJ #23))

“I still don’t feel right about it, master. She’s young and impressionable,” the Zabrak Padawan muttered as he joined his master at the bottom of the ship’s boarding ramp.

“You’ll get over it, Tarik. You’ll have to.” Master Kendris scratched the thatch of gray beard on his chin and surveyed Coruscant’s surroundings with a suspicious eye. “I know your feelings toward the smuggler. And you know the reason why such relations are forbidden by the Order.”

Anxious to get away from the losing argument of Yulel’s innocence and continuous attempts to hide his feelings for her, Tarik said, “Are you certain this is a safe place to be? I mean… Don’t you think the Jen’Hutis would be safer on Tython?”

His master’s response was unexpected considering their history. “Well… I think you’re actually right about that, Tarik.”

That’s when the young Zabrak noticed the private docking bay was even more private than it was moments ago. The refueling technicians, the mechanics, even the droids had vanished. “I have a bad feeling about this, master.”

Kendris nodded and ignited his lightsabers.

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((The RP XP with MJ #22))

Ord Mantell was generally no place for a crazy Twi’lek girl, especially with all the territorial squabbling between the Republic and the unpredictably superior separatists, but that’s where Yulel ended up.

She waved to the Gand pilot and ducked out from under the hot vents of his ship’s repulsors just as the small vessel lifted off and banked up into the clouds.

“Hey! Idiot! You almost took my head off!” She called up to the receding dot of a ship as it vanished. She pulled the straps of her pack so that it rested snugly against her shoulder blades and muttered, “I know you were in a hurry to leave, but that’s no reason to–“

The blaster bolt whizzed by Yulel’s head and stung her tchun as she twisted and dove behind a large rock nestled in an overgrowth of brush. Bolts continued to thump into the ground around her, crack at her stone cover and blaze through the air as she rolled off her back and scrambled to dig the blaster out of her pack.

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((The RP XP with MJ #21))

Aaaahh! What happened to my RP XP? Where’s the witty picture? Where’s the ongoing fiction about the smuggler who stole the rock? They’ll be back, my friends. But this week I thought I’d address an aspect of the game few RPers even consider.

This edition of the RP XP is all about in-game preferences for RolePlayers. Early last month, swtor-life’s own Mr. Warlock gave some great advice for preference settings to make your life easier in Star Wars: The Old Republic. The first of his two-part series can be found here. While those prefs were awesome suggestions for gaming, they don’t necessarily meet the oddball needs of those of us who fly the crazy RPer’s banner.

((The RP XP with MJ #20))

The ruddy-skinned Twi’lek looked up at the Jedi temple and squinted against the bright sunlight. When she looked back down she noticed she was the center of attention.

The young Jedi Zabrak with her said, “There’s a Twi’lek village near here, but we don’t get many your color, Yulel.”

Yulel ignored him and started down the steps toward the taxi launch.

“Wait. Where are you going?”

“I’m not staying here, Tarik. I hate you guys.”

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((The RP XP with MJ #19))

Sergeant Wex folded his arms over his armored chest as he squinted against the bright Tythonian sky toward the Jedi temple.

“Well, be careful what you wish for.” Wex shouldered his rifle and moved toward the steps of the temple. “I have the feeling it’s going to be a busy year.”
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((The RP XP with MJ #18))

We here at the staff of ((The RP XP with MJ)), in recognition of the holiday weekend, would like to take a moment to thank you all for your continued comments, questions and support.

The RP community, even in a massive game like SWTOR, is a relatively small group. But we are family. We are the ones who embrace the “Fourth Pillar” and create a fifth: Our Own Epic Stories. So, it is with great honor and humility that I thank you all for keeping the art of RolePlay alive and well, for fostering it in others, and for being the greatest, closest most dedicated community in gaming.

May your holidays be filled with joy and swtor this weekend! Happy Life Day!

And now, some words from the staff….
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((The RP XP With MJ #16))

Yulel sat on the floor of the cabin aboard the Regail and nervously stroked her lekku. She brought her head tails over the front of each shoulder so she could hold them as she sat on the floor and rocked like a pouting child.

“This ain’t fair, ya know.”

The armored trooper stood in the open doorway of the cabin. He stood alert, his rifle held at port-arms. He wore his helmet so Yulel didn’t know if he was looking at her, at the wall, at the floor….

“You got a name, flatfoot?”

The helmet moved slightly. The electronically-augmented voice came out. “The name’s Wex. Not that it’s any of your business, thief.”

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