Rage of the Dragon






The beautiful expanse of space never ceased to amaze Mark. He loved this view here. He rarely saw this scene. This silent, powerful peace. The fire crackled in front of him and the spinning boar sizzled in protest before becoming quiet once again and continuing to golden. Boots crunched dirt as a knight in full iron armor ran up to his campsite. A large longsword slung over his back.

“Rider Antilles!” the man called, and halted a meter from Mark where he did a military salute.

“Sir, what can I do for you?” Mark asked coolly, scratching the bluish-black stubble, which was beginning to grown on his face and chin.

“Nothing, Rider. But the Council is calling you. They have a mission for you,” the knight nodded, and then saw the boar roasting over the flames, “I can tell them you are busy, sir.”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Mark sighed, and quickly buckled his cattle-skin belt around his waist and sheathed his forged sword before slinging his bow around his shoulders, “But if you could wait here for Jesslin, she’s out hunting. And watch the boar.”

The soldier nodded, and returned Mark’s salute. With that, Mark took off at a run over the dirt path towards the giant castle beyond. Even in the darkness he could see the spectacular stones that made the castle, and the giant wall and then the palisade that surrounded the small houses of the citizens of the Ejderha Castle.

He slowed as he reached the gate, and turned to look back at the hill where his modest tent and campfire was. The shape of the knight stood out against the fire, but Jesslin was nowhere to be seen.

Be well, dear girl…

The knights who guarded the gate were only armored in iron mail, and armed with steel-studded clubs. “Rider!” one cried, and saluted Mark.

Mark returned the salute before walking through the wooden gate and up a rock-lined path towards the huge castle, which stood before him. The small, wooden houses had straw roofs and small poultry cages outside. A few teenagers stood on the porches, working on whittling a piece of wood in the quietness of the night.

A tired looking merchant came stumbling down the road, pulling a large wooden wagon. Mark leaned down, and took the weight off the man and offered him his leather pouch filled with cool water. The man accepted the water, and after taking a gulp, handed it back, bowed, and continued on his way, a little happier.

As the minutes passed Mark made his way to the large iron gate of the Castle’s rock wall. Four knights in iron mail with battle axes conversed near the entrance, and saluted Mark as he left the dirt path and walked up the stone-laden path to the castle itself.

Once inside the glorious fortress that was filled with rich tapestries and gold and silver and bronze, he was ushered to one of the top towers, to where the Council met to discuss the next move of the Dragon Riders.

As he stepped onto the cap of the tower, four of the fifteen members of the Dragons’ Council nodded to Mark, and the adult stepped into the middle to face the four. The one in the center, was Dragon Lord Zephyr, a human female blessed with Longevity by her Ejderha partner, Dragon Lord Morphris, Zephyr’s Dragon partner, Dragon Lord Fyli, a Mon Calamari Rider, and Dacck Vikz, a Zabrak Rider.

Mark bowed to each of them in turn, and then stood and waited for the Council to speak. It was Dragon Lord Zephyr who spoke first.

“Rider Trainee Antilles, we have a mission for you,” she explained through her 150-year-old lips, which looked as if they were 20 year old, as did the rest of her. “We are sending you to Fort North, where you will help the local forces retrieve a large quantity of platinum that was stolen from Flittman’s mines there.”

Disappointment ate through Mark. He would have to return to Known Space then. TO the galaxy. And its problems. But that’s what being a Rider means. He liked it here though, on this secluding paradise in the Unknown Regions. “Would it be wise to petition to be left here for continued wilderness training?”

Morphris roared in Ejder, the language of the Ejderha Dragons. [Not unless you wish to never become a trained Dragon Rider…]

“I see,” Mark sighed, and then looked up, “So, its just a simple mission right? I should be back in a few days.”

“Don’t underestimate the gravity of the situation,” Fyli said, shaking her fish-like head, “They have been taking the expensive and rare mineral for so long that if you don’t get it back, they could buy enough firepower to cause a serious threat to the citizens of the Galaxy.”

“Just hope they don’t have anything yet,” Dacck added, scratching at one of his horns.

“You leave a sun up,” Zephyr explained, and then bowed her head at Mark, signaling that he was dismissed.

“Thank you, Council. I shall return soon,” Mark smiled, and nodded to each Dragon Lord again before leaving the tower, and making his way to the roof of the castle, where the Dragon Riders kept their Dragons. A few seven meter tall Dragons, with their spiked backs, elbows, knees, and tail nibbled on the large rocks left there for them to eat if they didn’t want to hunt live prey. The smell of salty scales brought a smile to his face.

Jesslin….

Don’t ever do that again!

Mark jumped as a five meter tall pure black Dragon dropped in front of him onto the stone roofing. Her teeth barred and eyes flamed with anger.

“Do what?” Mark asked, but he knew what she meant.

[Leave the campsite without me! I almost ate the knight.] She roared in Ejder, and then added through their telepathic link, What did the council want?

“We’re going to Fort North. We’ve got some mine robbers to take care of,” Mark explained.

[Well, I guess we’ll be away from here for a while then…] she yawned, [But that’s fine, I haven’t stretched my muscles for a while anyway, and the faces of the people who see me are nice too.]

Mark chuckled to himself, knowing that whenever they messed up and allowed someone to see Jesslin, some research team would rush to that location in search of a rumored Ejderha.

Mark once again looked up at the stars and focused on a small blinking one. “I wonder what’s going on back home? And its Smashball season too. Maybe we’ll get to watch some…”

I hope you don't mind me joining in. If you have any problems, tell me.)

The Eagle settled on her landing gear and Xavier got out of her, activating the security system as he did so. He turned to the engines. They were slightly blackened, damaged by a pirate fighter who was attacking the convoy that he had been attempting to protect. He kicked the side of the Y-Wing angrily, and a piece of the armour fell promptly off and hit his foot. Cursing, he adressed his R2 unit. "Red, see what you can do with this. I'm going to see if I can get some parts." He turned and left the landing platform. A short Mon Calamari dockmaster approached him,bowing from the waist. "Welcome to Fort North, honored
guest." Xavier nodded his armoured head and walked on. "I will pay you when I return from my errand. My R2 unit will take care of my ship. He won't need any help." The Mon Cal thought of protesting, but he took in the bounty hunters silver mandalorian armour, his E-11 blaster rifle, double DL-44's, and multiple hidden weapons (flamethrower, rocket launcher.), and thought better of it.

Xavier walked into a weaponsmith's on the main street, and was greeted by a wary smile. He was frustrated; they didn't have what he needed. He went into a nearby bar, sat with his back to a wall, and ordered a corellian ale. And he mulled over his current situation.

Marshal Flittman sat in his plush chair in the highest office of Fort North's Executive Building staring off into space. A modified Y-Wing popped out of hyperspace and began to make its descent towards one of the Commercial Sattelite Stations. From the Shipping Sattilite Station a small YT-1300 Freighter, marked with the mathematical logo of Flittman Industries.

He sighed as he stared at the different folders on his desk. One told the current state of research into a 'Stationary Chain-Gun', while another a few orders for Flittman's Customs, and another, larger one, was full of the details on the items and minerals that these theives had stolen from his private stores.

A small button on his desk began to blink, and the Givin put his white, skeletal hand on the button, "Yes?"

"Sir," a female human vocie said sweetly, "We have recieved a message from a Wild Space Holonet Receptor/Transmitter regarding the theivery issue."

"Yes, put them through please," Marshal, a Givin with a human name for some strange reason, nodded, and then waited as a small hologram lit up, revealing a twenty year old woman.

"Hello. I am Marshall Flittman, Chairman and owner of Flittman Industries. How can i help you, miss...?"

"Miss Zyphr," the lady smiled.

"And how can i help you, Miss Zyphr?"

"Actually, its how I can help you. The organization i represent is currently sending a man, Mark Antilles, to help you reslove your crime issue."

"And what organization is this?"

"The name of the organization matters not. What does matter, is that we wish to help."

"And what would you recieve in return for this 'help'?"

Zyphr smiled, "Injtel. We would like intel on the criminal organization which is robbing you. It is our duty to destroy the criminals of the galaxy."

"I see. And when will your man arrive?"

"Soon. Tomarrow probobly," Zyphr smiled, "So, do we have an agreement?"

"Yes. Thank you very much," Marshal smiled, and once the transmission ended he pushed the button which had flashed earlier.

"Yes, Mr. Flittman?" his secretary asked.

"I want you to find out everything you can about a 'Mark Antilles'," he instructed.

"Hold on a second," she said, but then corrected herself, "Hold on until i finish this, it'll be a few minutes."

In three minutes her voice rang out through the comm, "Okay, he grew up on Onderon, and played various sports as a boy, but fell in love with Smashball. He played on his high school team, and then attended Onderon Tech and played there as well. He played professional for one year on the Arkanian Dragonheads, but then disapeared. His current location is unknown."

"Thankyou, that will be all."

He began to stare at the stars and watched and calculated the time it took for the YT-1300 tp leap into hyperspace. He was right on the dot...

As the sun rose over the hilly grassland of the undeveloped world, Mark clasped the last piece of his Rider Armor over the body glove that enveloped his body. The armor looked like the armor which the Elite Knights of this world wore, except it was made of Galactic-Age materials for surviveng in the vacuum of space. It even had an air tank.

The helmet hissed as it pressurized, and he turned towards Jesslin, who was euiped only with a saddle and reins. "You ready?"

[Of course] she roared in her dragon tounge.

"Let's do it then," Mark smiled, and reached for his weapons. He slid a small slugthrower equiped with a silencer into a holster, and then a katana was strapped to his belt, and then he reached for his most prized possesion. His Dragon Lance.

This lance was a gift to all Riders, and was made from the strange metal that collected underneath a Dragon's scales and was nearly indestrcutable, it could even fight a lightsaber without beign chopped in half. Ithad electrical ports throught it, and could be enveloped in a storm of lightning, and fire blasts equivilent to a light laser cannon.

He latched this lance to his back-plate, and then jumped onto Jesslin's smooth back. "Let's do it, Jesslin."

His answe was a small growl, and then with a flap of her wings, she jumped off the castle wall, and into the air, catching a warm updraft, and then began to flap for further alttitude. Jesslin's huge muscles flexed as she effortlessly reached for space, using a strange Force connection to breach the atmosphere.

Within minutes all Mark saw was stars and the monsterous planet below. "Alright," Mark smiled, and lifted a smal navicomputer from the sadle's bag. He punched a few buttons, and then used his connection with Jesslin to allow her to see throguh his eyes, and she studied the route to Fort North carefully.

Okay! Let's burn void!

With that, she opened her wings, and the shiny skin caught hold of microscopic pulses of energy, and began to use the natural ability that all dragons of her species had. As he wigns began to glow, she flapped, and they began to accelerate. Faster. And faster....

And faster and still faster, until they had broken the speed of light, and were still gaining speed. Until she reached a speed through normal space equivelent at the speed a starship with a .1 Class hyperdrive would travel throguh hyperspace.

At this speed, Mark should be dead, but the strange 'bubble' of alien Force energy which surronded Jesslin kept him alive, ad he could barely feel the speed beign strapped into his saddle firmly.

"Wake me when we near Fort North. And don't forget to get some rest on the way as well," Mark nodded, and then began to nod off to sleep...

________________________________________________________
Marcus, don't have Mark apear in the system in your chapter. I'll write his arrival.

Jesslin spread her wings and closed her collection pores and she began to slow down as Fort North became a tiny white speck agianst the stars. Finally, after at least 1,000 kilometers she was slowed to normal starship speeds.

I'm taking a wild guess that i can't be seen?

"Yes, you know how it is. If people knew that the dragons weren't just legends, but that they were real, think of the hunts that would follow," Mark explained, grabbing her reins and steering her towards a large asteroid which was tumbling towards Fort North, "Let's ride that."

With a burst of speed from her only barelly open collection pores, she slammed into the asteroid, making it fly faster, and then dug her clawed feet into the rock and then cemented her clawed hands in as well.

Mark quickly unbuckled himself and began to climb the rock. Once on top of it he saw that he only had a few minutes more before they came in range of the perimeter deffenses. He quickly found a dockign platform close enough to his estimated trijectory to land on and thenj laid himself down upon the rock.

The deffense sattelites opened fire. Military defense lasers, mining lasers, and even shells filled with the ancient TNT explosive began to hit the asteroid, trying to make it small enough so that it didn't cause any damage when it hit North Mineral's out shell.

Finally the attacks stopped, and the now smaller asteroid sped towards the outer shell of North Mineral asteroid. Mark counted silently in his head...1...2...3...

He was flying through space with nothing but cold void between him and the landing platform. If he missed.... well, the rocks on the asteroid were jagged enough he didn't want to think about what would happen if he missed.

He grabbed the pole and hung on. His arm wretched and he cried into his helmet as his arm was pulled from his socket, but he somehow managed to haul himself onto the platform. He watched as the asterouid hit the rock, and Jesslin, black as sopace and the rock, sped quickly into a mine on the side of North Mineral. Unseen.

He sighed, and then tried to put his arm back into its socket...

Xavier sipped his ale wearily, wondering what the hell he could do. He downed the ale, paid the owner, and returned to his ship. Red hadn't managed to do anything with it. Xavier sighed and sat on the engine dejectedly. Red beeped in astonishment. Xavier looked up. A corellian corvette was decending from space, burning. "Oh dear." Said Xavier, an obvious understatement. The corvette slammed into the heavy populated area of the city and exploded. Xavier looked away...and saw a landing pod decending towards the lake at the north of the city. Curiously, he went to the rental agency and rented a speeder. He sped out of the city towards the lake and the mysterious landing pod.

Mark Antilles smiled as he stood in the turbolift which would take him up to see the owner of Fort North, Marshal Flittman. He was outfitted in standard Dragon Rider casual clothes. He wore a black body glove underneath a pair of loose armorweave pants, a loose armorweave white tunic, thick durasteel chainmail, and a durasteel reinforced synthi-leather chest plate. A powerful vibrosword hung in a sheath on his side, and his Dragon Lance hung on his back.

The door to the lift slid open with a hiss, and Mark walked foreward past the seceratary and into Marshal Flittman's office. The Givin was madly typing on his computer, and then looked up as Mark drew near the desk.

"Mark Antilles i presume?" Marshal asked, and then added, "Nice attire. Reminds me of ancient armor from human folklore.

"Yes. I am Mark Antilles. A pleasure to meet you," Mark nodded and then stood straight, "If you wouldn't mind i'd like to get right down to work. Any help in my task would be much appreciated."

"Yes, i have a team of CIA Agents in-bound to help you as i speak. They should be....Sithspit!" Marshal cursed, and Mark stared towards space as a Corellian Corvette with 'CIA' painted on its broadside burst into flames as a SAM struck it with deadly prociseon, and the smoking hult spiraled towards the asteroid below near one of the larger cites.

Mark was already runnign towards the turbolift.

Be ready Jesslin...

Xavier's rented speeder screeched to a halt beside the pod. Getting out, he levelled his E-11 at it. Be ready for anything . He hit the release button and stepped back, bringing up his E-11 up to cover the door. Inside was a Ruurian, with 6 legs and strange antenna on his head. "Greetings, armoured two-legged humanoid." He said, standing up straight. "I respectfully request that you may direct me towards the nearest authorities." Xavier chuckled and lowered the rifle. "They're that way." He said. "I'll take you if you want."

The speeder stopped outside the main Fort North base. Xavier and the Ruurian, whose name was Eyths, went in and headed towards the security police barracks. On the way over a turbolift slid open and a knight-like figure in armour and a harassed humanoid in a buisness suit appeared, bowling right into Xavier and the Ruurian. Eyths leapt up and started chittering at the humanoid. "Mr Flittman, sir! Our craft crashed! I demand immediate investigation!" As the Ruurian talked on, Xavier coolly appraised the man in armour, a potential threat.

"What are you, looking out, Bounty Hunter!?" Mark spat, disgust filling his voice as he took in the man's Mandalorian battle armor and the deadly arsenal he carried on him. Before the man could open his mouth Mark shouted, "Shut up!"

"Sir Antilles! Be polite to our guests, please," Marshal nodded, and then looked at the burning hulk of the corvette. "What do you think?"

"SAM site. Somewhere in the mining caves," the bounty hunter explained, pointing off towards a mining entrance. Without a second's hesiation, Mark began sprinting towards the entrance, and it took a few minutes before he heard a second set of footsteps behind him. Moving quickly he spun around, pulling out his katana and slapping it up against the man's neck and threw him into a wall. It was then that he saw the man's armor.

"What do you want, scum?"

"To help," the bounty hunter explained.

"Help? I've spent my life trying to rid the world of scum like you! You wanna help? Well then go away."

With that Mark raced down the dark alleyway. Hurry Jesslin!