It was a dream he'd had more than once. He was in the familiar workshop, with the familiar smell of the blood of dead friends. A familiar Jedi stood across from his adult, fully ready form, brilliant beam of light held at the ready. The exchange went the same way each time.

"Who are you?" The jedi intoned, the young head topping his muscular form furrowed in anger and confusion.

Ardam inched one hand to the weapon slung at his chest. "The one who got away, Jedi.". He spat the last word, his anger briefly piercing through the air of lazy contempt he maintained.

From there, the dream played differently each time. This version of the Jedi threw a hand forward, and a sledgehammer caught Ardam in the chest, flinging him back inexorably. Microrockets in his greaves responded to his thoughts, letting him keep his stability as he flew back with the current of Force, bringing the weapon to his shoulder, a reticule appearing on his visor. He squeezed the trigger, and a cone of plasma flew out, like the breath of an Arkanian, scorching everything in its path. The Jedi, no doubt readying himself to block a single bolt, rolled away from the danger, propelling himself with the force. Ardam cursed, and realizing he wouldn't get another chance, dropped the deck-clearer, unsheathing the vibroblade and catching the lunge of the lightsaber in one smooth movement.

The Jedi had the advantage of speed, but his armor gave him the upper hand in strength. He wrestled with the jedi with his free hand, parrying the saber with the vibroblade. The scream of energy on energy filled the room, hurting Ardam's ears even through the helmet. He saw the Jedi wince with each hit. Ardam began to get the upper hand in the grapple, but the jedi flicked the saber off, the line of hellfire retreating back into the hilt. Ardam's blade swung towards the robed figure, but before he could connect he was forced to jet away, the blade extending again, pointed directly at his heart. He could feel the heat of the smoldering metal and ceramic: if it wasn't for his armor, he'd most likely be dead. He reached the other edge of the room, and let the jedi catch his breath. Ardam removed two pistols from their holsters: one thick and black, the other thin and silver, one in each hand. He knew a pistol in both hands was awful, but it was necessary for now.

He fired the black blaster pistol several times, and the Jedi parried each red bolt with ease, sending three of the five blasts directly back at him, only two of which he dodged. The Jedi smirked, and called out defiantly

"Your friends thought that would work, criminal scum! It didn't!"

Ardam fired the other weapon. A cacophonous bang filled the room as a tiny metal cone, 11 milimeters wide, sprinted across the room, well over ten times faster than a blaster bolt, and invisible to the naked eye. If the Jedi was a master, he might have stopped it quick enough. If the jedi hadn't gotten into the rhythm of deflecting Ardam's blaster bolts, he might have done something. He didn't. In a tiny fraction of a second, the cone of metal powdered the Jedi's skull, and mushrooming out within his brain cavity, rendered him dead almost instantly.

"That did."

He holstered his revolver, and awoke in his familiar bed aboard the Gravitas, a smile wide on his freshly-awoken face.

"HOLD THE LINE!" A voice managed to cut through the blaster bolts that also filled the streets. Stormtroopers were advancing through the street, backed up by an AT-ST. The Street was one of the elevated streets of Malastare, if one peered over the side of the bridge-like street, they would barely be able to see the ground, hundreds of feet bellow. The commander, a Mon-Calamari, had just finished his shout, when one of the defense guns on an elevated part of the street was hit by a TIE Fighters straifing run and was torn to pieces. "Where's our fire support?" he yelled, grabbing the comm-officer that was desperately trying to cut through the Imperial comm-jammers.

"Imperial scrambler code is self modulating, trying to get through is like trying to bullseye a termite with a needle." he grunted.

"Can the metaphores and keep trying." replied one of the soldiers, before standing up to fire 3 shots, but was quickly knocked off the barricade as a blaster bolt hit his shoulder.

"MEDIC!!!" The commander roared. A Bothan charged over with a med-kit.

"Yeah, i've got him." he pried the armour off to get to the wound "Didn't penetrate deep." he mumbled, before opening a pot of Bacta and stuffing it in the wound.

"AAAAAH!!! COULDA FOOLED ME!!!" replied the wounded soldier.

"-*kRRtSH*ogie comi-*k*-in-*sshshhhhhhsi*ck high" the comm crackled. "Repeat, command, do not copy, repeat, do not copy, please repeat." replied the comm officer. At that point, the AT-ST was knocked off the walkway, as the burning hulk of a TIE Fighter cockpit smashed through it. It was then, that a shadow loomed over the street. They then saw an older shuttle landing next to the street, the Stormtroopers scampered for cover, but, one of them approached the descending ramp of the shuttle.

"Fire support." the Commander said to the Comm officer. "We're gonna need it right now... NOW DAMMIT, NOW!!!" he yelled, the comm officer scrambled for the comm-link again, desperate to get some bombers down on their position. He had heard of this, Sith could easily have cut through their Air-support and got down here. A cold air seemed to blow as, advancing down from the shuttle was 3 beings, all clad in black armour. The Stormtroopers saluted him, but, he was picked up off the ground and thrown into several of the advancing Stormtroopers. "OPEN FIRE! OPEN FIRE!!!" He yelled. Every blaster that could be pointed at them was pointed at them. One of the black clad beings, clearly a female, stepped forwards and held out her hand, almost all of the blasters energy-clips fell out, before she turned towards the Stormtroopers. The Commander was confused. That wasn't Sith tactics. "RELOAD!" He yelled, although the order was not necessary. Another of the black clad beings quickly advanced towards them, as the other two's red lightsabers ignited and they began to hack at the Imperial troopers. As the being floated up and over the barricade, he stared at the commander, a look that could freeze the soul. One of the men drew their pistol and shot him, but his hand extended to catch the bolt, with no visible damage.

"Do not attempt to interfere with us..." He said. "We will deal with these imperials. There is already too much chaos on this planet." he said. He then looked down at the injured man "Take your wounded and fall back." he ordered. The shuttle behind him took off and shot skyward. He then turned around and ignited his lightsaber as he moved to join his allies. The Commander gulped.

"F..." he gulped again. "Fall back to the next defense line... Command is going to want to hear about this... It... It looks like the sith have switched sides..." he said.

"What if it's a trick?" asked the medic.

"If they wanted this defense point... They'd have it and our corpses to decorate it." the Commander said. They began to move back, further into the city.

“Admiral Fairfax, Eriadu has been seized. The governor and his council have surrendered, and the defense forces have been neutralized completely within the capital. We’re receiving messages of compliance from other population centers now, and I am deploying the rest of my Stormtroopers to ensure cooperation. The Revenue took light damage from the small complement of anti-pirate ships, but its combat functionality is not impaired.”

Commodore Fayet’s young, pale face was displayed in rather poor definition on her personal screen, his voice small and tinny, blaring from the cheap speakers. Amolia noticed a few of her bridge officers listening in: it was the first combat any of them had seen, beyond simulation, and she shared their enthusiasm. She did not stop them, this time.
“Well done, commodore. The fleet will be arriving within the hour: begin procuring food and materiel at high prices, and give ground forces eight hours leave. Remind them we are liberators: rape and pillage will be met with firing squad.”

The commodore nodded along with her, memorizing his duties and no doubt already planning ahead. It was one of few things she liked about the man. Understanding her to be finished, he saluted. “Understood ma’am. Emperor protect.”

She did not respond. His face snapped off her screen, and she looked up, running over what she knew. She looked out of the fore window, the transparisteel almost invisible as she gazed past it and saw the enormous dagger-shaped ship extend in front of her, the point nothing more than a speck against the white streaks of hyperspace. She stood from her command chair with some relish.

“Captain Linser, you have command. Relay to the fleet that orders have changed: the fleet is to enter medium orbit above Eriadu and prepare to repel counterattacks. I have business to attend to.”

The balding man, no more than thirty years old and with chocolate-hued skin, turned from his station directly in front of her now- vacated chair and saluted smartly. “Yes, Admiral.”. He knew better than to wait for a response, and simply began executing her orders efficiently. They had become quite the team over the months.

The walk to her quarters was a short one. A flight of stairs and a trip down a drab grey corridor deposited her in her spacious quarters. Two rooms and a personal lavatory, well appreciated. She used very little of it, of course, and today was no exception. She dropped herself in her far more comfortable personal chair, and turned to her desk, turning her various computers and communicators on as she did so. Her desk was immaculate, of course: there was no using heavy, wasteful and expensive paper on a Star Destroyer. Her computer, however, was highly cluttered. She still managed to navigate it smoothly, and keyed open a new communication channel. She trusted her staff, as any officer must, but some matters are best kept out of the minds of the fragile.

“Pardalis. I trust the Jedi were no problem, even without the bomb.”

The rough voice of her agent came across in terrible quality, the price paid for portable communicators. “They weren’t, boss. I managed to take the padawan alive, like you asked. I couldn’t get the knight, too dangerous.”

“Indeed. Is she fit for transport?”

“Absolutely.” Even through the bad connection she could hear a note of relish. “She’ll be no danger on the ship, though I’d recommend you let me handle her while she’s aboard. Jedi are slippery, even when you can resist their tricks.”

“Understood. The Bazaar will be entering orbit in an hour. I expect you here as soon as possible.”

“Got it, boss.”

His face disappeared, and Amolia sat back calmly. She couldn’t wait to interrogate the jedi: there were just too many things she wanted to know. A rare smirk played on her face, just for a few seconds.

Name: Yamok Drall
Gender: Male
Species: Bothan
Age: 53
Weapon of Choice: Pistols
Specialisation: Second-in-command

Name: Mak-Nog Laam
Gender: Male
Species: Gungan
Age: 21
Weapon of Choice: Explosives + Knives
Specialisation: Gunship Pilot

Name: Umak Poll
Gender: Male
Species: Gran
Age: 31
Weapon of Choice: Rifles
Specialisation: Precision Shooting

Name: Marlow Rand
Gender: Female
Species: Human/Twi-Lek hybrid
Age: 31
Weapon of Choice: Lightsaber Pike
Specialisation: Jedi Ace (Able to call upon the force to aid the minds of her allies and hinder those of her opponents.)

Name: Buddy Illam
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Age: 28
Weapon of Choice: Pistol
Specialisation: Dogfighting Ace

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The heavy and varied terrain of Panatha protects people from each other. Seclusion is easy to find on this planet. Generations passed and this seclusion became the norm. Centuries passed and invading this seclusion was offensive, a taboo. Tribes were small, but inbreeding was never a problem. Arranged weddings allowed for opposing tribes to come together and possibly settle their differences. This rarely occurred, however. A week of peace was welcome, regardless. Its location in the Outer Rim meant it wasn’t much colonized, if only because of its limited resources.

It could be argued that their beliefs are land-ownership bound, but privacy and seclusion are held before what land they inhabit. Many tribes of the Epicanthix are relatively nomadic, though there are still those who create more permanent structures into the ground and practice agriculture. They are able to keep a larger population satisfied but are more apt to attack passing-by tribes. Because of this, they are more apt to be attacked, requiring more resources to keep these armies up. Objectively, these villages are just as efficient as the nomadic tribes since the tribes move more often, attacking and defending themselves much less.

Both the tribes and villages are led by known oligarchies. They are relatively incorrupt, but there are always those exceptions. These ‘Councils’ are made up of the elders who’ve shone that, through their extensive life-experience; they are capable of successfully leading their tribe or village to any victory. Any loss is counted by the total termination of the village or tribe. This ‘termination’ can be the enslavement or melding of or with another tribe or village. It can also simply be that it was killed off entirely. It is currently seen as honorable to have the entire community to be killed. The slavery, though not oppressive, is a stigma that each oligarchy discourages.

Generations passed as did millennia and the amount of conflict only grew as the sense of individualism grew. Sizes of tribes and villages never rose and actually decreased, though this is statistically insignificant. Those who remained nomadic traveled farther distances, gaining space between them and others. Even with more movement or stronger defenses, the villages and tribes knew each other well enough to know what type of terrain they usually settled in and during which seasons. Tribes include, but are not limited to, Mountain, Snow, Forest, and Swamp. Villages include, but are not limited to, Plains, Deserts, Lakes, and Rivers, though the latter is slightly nomadic.

The Mountain Tribes, or those with ‘Grii’ in their names, are strong and agile but not quite resilient or wise. They often become physically ill and are known for their shorter lifespans (around 120 years). However, they are difficult to attack and easy to defend (due to their locations), making their ‘shorter’ lives more peaceful. Hunting is the most difficult of the Grii Tribes, but their prey is varied. Many herbs grow on the sides of these mountains as well. These tribes remain closer to the equator and never ascend high enough to where frost forms. Ironically, the tribes which remain higher upon the mountains are seen as more fortunate since they can handle the thinner air. They favor utilities and tools more than other goods and are often sought after for their inventions. The Grii Tribes share a crest with the image of a club within it and the color brown.

The Snow Tribes, or those with ‘Oew’ in their names, are arguably as strong or stronger than the Grii but show a greater resilience to their environment. Interestingly, they have the widest range of lifespans, from 115 to 145, and are also the highest and lowest of all the tribes and villages. The Oew are some of the most aggressive and possessive of settlements. They dwell atop mountains as well as the poles of the planet. Those closest to the poles are seen as stronger as and better than those further or atop the mountains. There is also a semi-strict caste system of various levels, though none are truly above others. The Oew specialize in weapons and wield a wide variety. They share crests with weapons, specifically a spear with spikes along the shaft and the color white.

The Forest Tribes, or those with ‘Fiv’ in their names, are known for their ability to travel quickly through the treetops as well as their intimate knowledge of the forests. They are quite difficult to locate, allowing them to live through the typical lifespan of an Epicanthix. Their tree houses are expertly camouflaged, but the travel between the Grii and Udz (since they keep in the forests between them) makes this necessary. They have been attacked many times and have become paranoid of becoming attacked. They use stealth to overcome their foes and are known for their skill movement and silence. Other see them as unnecessarily aggressive while they believe everyone else to be. Communication is not a strong suit among the settlements. The Fiv Tribes share logos with bows and arrows and the color green.

The Swamp Tribes, or those with ‘Saq’ in their names, are quite cunning and unusually manipulative though are the least adapted to their environment. They’ve kept as many promises as they’ve broken, which makes them notorious for their seeming inability to cooperate fairly with outsiders. Some might know of the necessary measures taken by the Saq, however. They are known for making traps within the bogs and bayous they live within. Keeping close to the equator, they inhabit the most humid of environments. Above most anything, they specialize in gaining intelligence and secrets of opposing tribes and villages. Insignias of the Saq all show ropes or chains in their patterns and the color black.

The Plains Villages, or those with ‘Udz’ in their names, are usually quite intellectual and wise. Unlike other tribes, however, they don’t place such high reliance on physical strength and skill in movement and formations. They focus on defense, something the Epicanthix are also not known for. Ironically, the Plains tribes are some of the biggest, but agriculture and ease of building structures allows for greater populations. They live within the tropics of the planet and construct villas out of grass and mud for the elders of the Council while the rest of the population live in ornate tents. Along with their impressive defense, the Udz are known for their craft in shield and armor craft. These people live for quite a long time, usually 140 years. They share a tribal sign of shield and the color beige.

The Desert Villages, or those with ‘Krik’ in their names, are a formidable force to go against for the physical power of their men is only matched by their intimate knowledge of lore and military tactics. Since they live in the desert, they become ill more often than those of other tribes. They are also not known for their dexterity or skills in stealth. The Krik use offensive tactics, but only to drive back those who threaten their solitude. They don’t wish to fight and will tell the intruders to leave before attacking them ruthlessly and completely. The Krik have the most victories in war and, thus, the highest population of slaves. They live in underground tunnels and caves to keep from the sun. Since the presence of slaves is so high, the family is held sacred even above combat and lore. Their signatures share three circles in a line or sometimes interlocking and include the color red.

The Lake Villages, or those with ‘Mil’ in their names, are sternly attached to the native lore of Panatha. Many seers and mystics live along lakes to provide others with their knowledge through visions and whispers from the Whisps. They are quite peaceful and friendly, favoring diplomatic solutions to conflicts with other villages and tribes. The Mil are concerned with their mental and physical health, however, and are so superstitious that it clouds their abilities to think critically They build cabins from the woods they live near, which often causes trouble with the Fiv. Fortunately, the Mil choose their words carefully and don’t take more than they are allowed by the nearby Fiv. The Mil focus on their mysticism over combat and seclusion and will house deserters if their auras are not negative. Interestingly, their superstitions seem to have some sort of viability since they live as long or longer than the Udz. Their flags depict images of smoke and the color purple.

The River Villages, or those with ‘Tox’ in their names, are quite adaptive to their surroundings since rivers often flood and they are usually targets for attack to usurp key river ways for transportation. As adaptable as they are, they can be quite hospitable as the Mil are known to be but can be just as aggressive as the Oew. If forced to fight, they adapt tactics from the Fiv and Saq but never initiate an attack. Still, their hidden methods are quite effective and difficult to displace when displacement of their village is a determined mean to an end. The Tox live in boats or structures that shelter them from weather but can float down the rivers they inhabit, allowing them to escape should they need to. Along with this, they are the only tribe to flee from conflict rather than admit complete defeat which places them below all other villages and tribes. However, they prize individual and collective life above combat and pride. The Tox live average life spans because of their fleeing. Their logo includes a star or a collection of them as well as the color blue.

The Force is viewed as Ancestral Influence. There are few who are gifted with special abilities that enhance their body or allow them to perform magics. Some can hear their wishes and chants. It's not often for the Epicanthix to use these powers for their own ends, since they are very communal. Those who do, however, are seen as selfish and become an equivalent to a Sith. Otherwise, their aggressive tendencies leave them in gray areas.

Physical maturity is met quite early among the Epicanthix, though varies from individual to individual. Records report full sexual and physical maturity to be around the age of 20 for both sexes. Sexual maturity begins as early as 8 years old and as late 15. Arranged marriages occur between tribes or villages but more often within their own. The children are usually around 16 to 18 years old and are expected to have a child 6 months later (their pregnancies are surprisingly shorter in spite of their lengthened lifespan). These marriages are usually festive and ornate and take months to plan and a week to celebrate. The ceremonies differ from village to tribe but take hours to complete.

Gender is quite an important thing among the Epicanthix. Women are revered and respected and held above men. They are expected to learn the deep lore of their ancestors and learn how to efficiently perform the tasks they are born into. They learn lore and healing before the intricacies of their family’s profession. They are also expected to begin to bear children early and constantly. The men are expected to protect, not only their village or tribe, but the women within them. When attacked, the women are targeted before the men in hopes to kill off their lore and ancestry. Interestingly, neither gender is better to bear than the other. The women within the Council are heeded more immediately than the men. It’s an odd form of matriarchy.

Names are quite important. The firstborn male is to have the first name of the mother’s last name in a hope to inherit her knowledge and wisdom. His last name is that of his father to inherit his strength and cunning. The firstborn female is to have the same, but reversed (her first name is the father's last name and her last name is the mother's last name). The second son has the same first name of the father save the middle letters and inherits the father's last name. The same is for the second daughter but the names come from the mother. All other sons have a first name that starts with the first letter of the father's first name and inherit his last name while the daughters follow similarly their mother. During marriage, neither the husband or wife adapts the other’s name for each are equally important.