It's been an interesting couple of weeks. First we had over a dozen of you submit your works of art and writing to us. Then the staff got together and picked five finalists. Yesterday we asked you to vote and pick your favorite. All of the works we received were nothing short of impressive, and every one of our artists and writers who worked hard on this project should be congratulated.
Unfortunately though BioWare only provided us with one signed copy of The Art and Making of Star Wars: The Old Republic to give out. You voted without knowing the artists and writers that made the five finalists. Today we reveal not only the winner, but the submissions and names of all the talented authors and artists that worked hard on this competition. Our thanks and praise go out to everyone that took the time to enter. Now without further ado, I give you our grand prize winner, drawn by Seithe Assai.
1st Place - Seithe Assai
I think this picture spoke to a lot of us. Who is this girl, what is her story? The picture speaks a thousand words in seconds. The dead body, who is it, her father? The lightsaber is obviously too big for her but she wields it anyways in defiance of the Sith circling around here. I certainly hope Siethe will tell us more about her. We also had a lot of great debate among the staff about our other four finalists.
2nd Place - Atreiyu
3rd Place - Saizek
4th Place - Kilarin
5th Place - DarthRussell
In addition to our finalists we also had about a dozen other entries we'll share with you now. Be sure to thank these artists as well for all their hard work. While we couldn't put everyone in the final vote, we wanted to be sure that each of them had a chance to get some recognition from their hard work. Check them out and let us know what you think, did we leave something out we shouldn't have?
Entry by IOn
Entry by Elspath
The Outer Rim (hyperspace)
~As the old freighter skims through the hyperspace corridor. The Head Mistress of Ashgan Academy stands on the bridge, seemingly watching the lines of stars and slight blue glow pass the tinted window of the cockpit. Her long white robes and hood marking her as a Jedi. Two droids sit at the navigation and pilot seats. Completing tasks of navigation, hyperspace rout calculations and ship maintenance. The old freighter yawns as bulk heads slightly groan in faint pain as the ship shows its age. Turning abruptly, The Head Mistress heads to the second floor living space. A single room with two bunks and kitchen.~
~Sitting in the kitchen area are young students of the Temple School. Head Mistress Elspath walking up to the table, wrapped in her robes and she nods down to the younglings and smiles. A glimpse of her lavender colored vale marking her as a Miraluka~
Elspath: "D55 and D56 say we will be dropping out of hyperspace in a one galactic standard hour. This is a unknown region of space. We do not know what we will find. The Republic received a old style distress call from this region and asked the Jedi Council to send a ship to investigate. Seems we were chosen. With the lack of ships and manpower within the Republic and Jedi Order we became the best and only choice."
~Head Mistress Elspath smiles nodding a bit as she explains the reason the old style freighter is travailing out to the vast unknown. Reaching out Elipsa places a small holo projecting on the table in front students sitting around the table. Pressing a small button on the device a projection of a subspace single comes to life. Taking the form of a display showing the waves of vibration as seen on a communication consul. In slow breaths a deep resounding beep starts to fill the living area of the ship.~
Elspath: "There was no underlining information or data bursts sent with the single that the Republic could find. It is believed to be a distress single of a old ship or crashed pod. No one expects us to find anything but old ship wreckage and maybe a black box. This is a mission to find and pout a end to a old forgotten single."
~Nodding to the students she picks up the holo projector placing it in to the pocket of her robe's as she looks to each of the students. Arms folding behind her back as she looks at the young faces. The students look from one to the other as they shake there head slightly~
Elspath: "Now prepare yourselves, look to the force and center yourselves. There is no light, no dark, there is only the force."
Entry by Asyria
"My name is Domi'no Aran and I'm a bounty hunter. The bounty part is pretty much just a matter of putting food on my plate and keep up with the latest tech so I can keep doing my thing, though. Being nice doesn't give you all that, so I gotta charge. I don,t work for the Sith though. As far as I'm concerned those fanatics can go and dish it out with the Jedi's and leave politics to others. Hell, we might even be at peace with the Republic without a Sith Emperor, but who am I to judge? I don't write history, I just live it.
So, no contracts for the Sith. The Empire military.. well, that's another story. Republic soldiers are just as likely to kill our civilians if they're in the way so since we're at war, we gotta win it. If I can help, I'll help, but I'm no regular soldier. I pick my contracts and I do them well, but they can't expect more than that from me. Now if a civilian needs something done and they can pay me in some way... that's what I prefer to do. Someone's gotta take care of those people who can,t take care of themselves. Even on Dromund Kaas, our capital world, life isn't easy for everyone.
This all doesn't make me a hero though, but I'm far from a cold heart merc even if I try to cultivate that reputation. It always helps, you know? A cold and efficient reputation to scare enemies away. Of course every now and then there's a hotshot looking to prove themselves who come for you but more often than not they got a bounty on their head and they just give it to me on a plate. Fine with me. I don't enjoy taking lives but I've done it so much I kind of got used to it as much as one can ever get used to such a thing. Never did kill anyone in cold blood though, I'm no murderer. Always give them a chance, but always be sure to win... it's a delicate balance but it keeps both my physical and mental health in good shape.
It's not an ideal life, but it's what I do. I'm good with a blaster, I got good reflexes, I'm tough and healthy. I got everything for the job and I do it well so I'll just keep going until I can't anymore. Meaning I'm either dead or retired. Probably dead. Retirement isn't exactly common in the business but one can hope. One should hope, in fact. What else is there without hope?
So there you have it, Domi'no the bounty hunter.
Now I'm trusting you with my name but you better not publish it... or I'll be coming back."
Entry by Ashaeada
The Apprentice’s Fear
Heavy pants resonate through the halls of the ancient tomb while shadows flicker in the dim light against the walls. Ashaeda felt the primal fear rage through her veins yet she could not find the strength to mould that fear into rage. She looks over her shoulder to take a look at her pursuers. She saw the contours of the pack of beasts that were chasing her. She knew she was no match for an entire pack of these Sith-Alchemy created monsters so all she could do was run for now.
The beasts were slowly gaining on her as she knew she did not have much time left. In the distance her eyes catch a glimpse of a large central room appearing to have a massive stone statue of a Sith Lord as it’s hateful expression left no doubt to that. She looked once more over her shoulder to inspect beasts while thinking to herself "Nothing has changed for now, Good.”
She gathered all the energy in her as she sets off for a last sprint on her full speed, her legs throbbing with a fiery pain while her chest rises up and down to inhale as much breath as possible. While doing this she started to squeeze as much anger she could from the paralyzing fear. Despite that a torrent of emotions coursed through her body she managed to take hold of that cold calculating part hidden deep within her mind.
She felt the euphoria of the dark side filling her body while closing in on the statue, she launched herself from the ground as she spins with a summersault on top of the high pedestal on which the statue was founded.
The beasts seemed not to have climbed on it yet as she uses the moment of reprise to catch her breath as she slumps to the ground on her knees. The beasts still had not come as her lips curl up in a grin while watching over her shoulder as the beasts crawl against the pedestal yet always falling down.
Finally at a safe place she felt her heart calm down while the painful throbs in her legs faded away. Now removed from immediate danger she finally could find the strength to tap on the Dark Side as her fear turned into rage and her rage turned in power.
She rises to her feet while turning around to face the edge of the pedestal. On a closer look those beasts were hardly that large while feeling contempt for them. But she knew that even the weak can take down the strong when working together.
She dismissed her thoughts while focusing on gathering the energies of the dark side within her while extending her hands downwards, tilting them in the direction of the beasts. Light flashed through the room followed by the crackling of Force Lightning as the beasts cried out in pain. But she already knew that she had earned the right to survive.
Entry by Solon Kanet
Your mum never tell you it's rude to stare, kid? You're not so pretty yourself, but I don't go gawkin' at your bantha-features when you're just trying to enjoy a quiet drink. Tell you what - buy the next round and I'll tell you how I got like this.
It was back when the war was hot and I was in the army. My first posting was a five year tour on Balmorra. Nothing but a scrap heap with an atmosphere, if you ask me, but the brass wanted it, so there we were. The locals were none too happy about it mind, and when you don't know if the girl you brought home is gonna kiss you or kill you, it makes walking down the street a bit like charging through a minefield, 'cept with worse odds.
After three years in what seemed like the most hostile territory in the galaxy, waking up every morning thankful someone hadn't knifed me in my sleep, I would've done anything to get off that god-forsaken rock. And that's when I found out that the universe has a sick sense of drukkin' humour.
My unit got pulled by a Sith Lord. He had intel on where a resistance group were holed up and he wanted backup. So we saluted and hopped to it, and lo and behold, his intel's right. 'Cept he forget to mention a key detail. See, the resistance were mostly factory workers with blasters older than they were, but from time to time they had support from the republic. Which in this case was a drukkin' Jedi Knight.
Nonetheless, Lord Whassisname sends us in and Emperor help us we do our level best, but this Jedi cuts through my mates like they were butter. I somehow managed to get behind him, so I drew my vibroblade and charged in. He spotted me just a little too late and we both hit the floor. Then it all went black.
I woke up a few days later in hospital. Seems once I took the Jedi down, Lord Whassisname saw his moment and let rip with a drukload of lightning. Killed the Jedi, and blew half my helmet through my head. Somehow I managed to not die, and when a med-evac team showed up I was just conscious enough to mumble my name and serial number. None of the rest of the lads made it.
I spent a while getting patched up, then bought myself a medical discharge. Had some backpay saved, so I used it to go freelance. Been picking my own jobs ever since.
So now you know how to get yourself a head full of droid-parts. Course, there are other ways. For instance, when the nice bounty hunter telling you his war stories says you're coming with him, you could run, or go for that blaster on your hip. D'you wanna give it a shot?
Yeah, I didn't think so. Let's go kid.
Entry by Jor Doneeta
Cirus Brody just rubbed Vit wrong. It wasn't that he, as a mirialan, didn't like humans—there was just a rodent-like look about one; he had mannerisms indicating more credits than decency. He dealt in slaves and drugs—was a little too wealthy from it, too. Vit felt he ought do something about that.
The next card came up, giving Vit eighteen. He whistled, leaning back, running his tattooed hand through his thick black hair.
Cirus chortled, spreading his hands wide in mocking fashion. "Looks like I might get that chance to win all my credits back! "
"What you lost tonight,” Vit countered smoothly. "Calculatin' it, you're still down another twenty-thousand from last night.”
Cirus bristled. "We'll see what calculates after this set, Vit. I got credits, spice, a slave—” He points to the green-skinned twi'lek woman standing behind him. "I got a ship, too. All you got is your deck.”
Vit grinned. "And your twenty-thousand from last night.” He leaned forward. "Since you think you got me beat, maybe you might want to make it double or nothin'? Gives you a chance to break even.”
"Twenty-thousand on just this one set?” Cirus laughed. "Think you'll beat me with a stand on eighteen?”
Vit grinned. "Who says I'm standin'?”
Cirus chortled. "Deal! But I only have ten-thousand.”
Vit nodded at the twi'lek. "She's worth another ten to you.”
Cirus laughed. "Whatever you say, Vit. Ten-thousand and the slave—if you win this set.”
Vit tapped, indicating he wouldn't stand.
Cirus laughed, leaning back confidently. The next card was dealt, giving him twenty-two. He nonchalantly tossed his minus-three card on the table. "Game over, Vit. You're getting sloppy.”
"Nope,” was all Vit said. His card came up as a six, totaling twenty-four. He shrugged.
"Tough break,” Cirus taunted.
Vit reached across the table, showing Cirus one of the remaining two cards in his hand: minus-four. "That's pazaak, friend.”
Cirus stood up in a fit of rage. "You're a cheat!” He pulled his blaster, pointing it at Vit. "You've been cheating me the whole time!”
Vit stood-up, resting his hands on both blasters. "Calm down, now. You lost fair. This establishment's not fond of violence. If I don't kill you, somebody will.”
Cirus started to lower his gun then shook his head. "No, you're not taking all this from me!”
Vit drew his blasters, putting one bolt through the junky's head, and a second through his chest. Cirus dropped his weapon and collapsed onto the floor.
The scared twi'lek slave girl looked to him, then lowered her eyes. "I am yours, now.”
Vit shook his head. "You're free to go. Women complicate things.” He holstered his blasters. "There's only two things I need concern myself with, and that's bein' good enough at pazaak to bring in credits, and quick enough with a blaster to make sure I keep 'em."
Entry by Unknown!
Due to an Enjin error we lost the Author, claim it please!
The room was a small, darkened cube barely large enough for a human to stand in. The walls were bare, windowless. The only furnishing in the Spartan cube was a bedroll and a single candle resting in a metal container. The wick burned, filling the little room with the smell of melting wax and burning wick. No incense, just the tiny fingertip-length flame.
Kneeling in front of the tiny point of light, her hands turned inward and rested on her thighs, was Jiira Tal. Shaven-headed save a few strips of close-cropped stubble across her scalp, she sat in Padawan’s robes that she was too old for. At her side, she had no weapon. Her eyes stared at the dancing candle-light, her slow breathing making the flame sway rhythmically in front of her.
Light burst in as the door to her self-imposed cell retracted into the wall and she flinched away from the unfamiliar brightness, one hand shading her eyes. A silhouette in the doorway gradually resolved itself into the grey-eyed face of her master.
"Master Réon,” she croaked. Her voice felt rough and hoarse in her throat from the hours she spent alone.
"Do you think hiding yourself away in such a fashion will make the rest of the temple forget your existence, padawan?” Réon’s voice alone was enough to convey his disdain for the idea. Jiira hesitated, her eyes still on the verge of watering from having to look at her master against the blisteringly bright backdrop of Tython beyond.
"I mean to atone, master. For my... Fall.”
"A life of self-flagellation is no life at all, padawan, especially not for a Jedi. Come, today you have your Trial.”
Jiira started and rose from her kneeling position, her stiff muscles protesting at the sudden use. "I’m not ready, master. I still have – "
"You are afraid,” Réon interrupted her with a cutting tone. "You have failed once, and you’re afraid that if you try again that you’ll Fall again.” Jiira nodded wordlessly, and Reon smiled. "Then you will always fail. Fear is of the Dark Side as well as rage, Jiira, as well as grief. Your sister would not wish you to Fall but she wouldn’t wish you to hide here either. The Order’s trust will come from your deeds as well as your thoughts. Contemplation is not atonement.” He gestured for Jiira to come forward and stepped back from the door.
On shaky legs, Jiira moved to the threshold of her room. The sunlight burned her eyes, but felt warm on her skin. She was shocked, on seeing her hands, how pale the skin was. She took a breath of the first fresh air she’d tasted in weeks. She looked back over her shoulder to see how the sunlight made her shadow loom and merge with the shadows at the corners of the room, the cell black as vacuum. The little candle wavered in the breeze from outside, but remained lit.
She stepped outside and closed the door.
Entry by Rabbly
Entry by -=Batty=-
Vreese Sai’nu calmly sat at the helm of the crashing freighter while her brother, Batak, nervously punched at inactive panel in front of him again. Vreese’s baby blue skin glistened with sweat as she concentrated. Batak admired her ability to remain calm in even the direst of circumstances but even he felt she was pushing the limits today. His lekku twitched like a mynock going after a power converter as the freighter began to glow entering the upper atmosphere.
"Calm down, Batty,” Vreese tried to soothe her brother, "The Force is with us but I need to concentrate and I can feel your panic like a wookie yelling right now.”
Batak breathed deeply in and let it out trying to follow his sister’s advice. Of the two he was naturally bigger in almost every way but one, or so he felt anyway. She had a discipline that matched her physique and that was to say chiseled by experience. He was her opposite in that sense. Although his frame was broad and strong looking, his personality was often made of softer stuff. So, naturally, he went to his natural behavior and joked, "Well, if we survive this maybe one won’t have to pull our arms out of socket, aye?”
Vreese visibly smiled then reached out with the Force. Events had been thrust on the two beyond their comprehension. But that was not important now. They were now approaching Tython at an increasing velocity in a dead ship. It shuddered in the atmosphere as if to reinforce the point that it’s death throws would soon be theirs when it impacted with the surface. She felt a tug like a rope as she extended one arm down toward Tython.
Batak, like his sister, was also Force adept but had spent his time learning other things over the years. At times he wondered if perhaps his sister was more useful than he was. But that was the road to the Dark Side and no good would come of doubt. He took a moment to look at her lekku then his. Their pink oval markings looked serene on her while they looked like a gibbering mess on him at the moment. So, he decided to make himself useful. He got up and went to a back compartment.
Feeling his brother calm down had the affect of strengthening Vreese’s resolve. She gave a tug through the Force and the ship began to slow. The landing was still rough but they survived.
Later that evening the stood on a hilltop looking at where they’d hidden the freighter debris. "Trust me, no one will find it,” Batak sounded sure. Vreese nodded and pointed toward what had to be the Jedi Temple. "Now we just have to convince them we belong here and not in a Galactic War thousands of years from now.”
Batak smiled, "I’ll let you cover that one. Though I’d leave out any mention of the artifact and Force translocation. Or whatever we’re calling what happened.”
Entry by Mar'eyce
Entry by Amaris
Well thats it, be sure to let us know what you think of all them in the comments section, and congratulations again to Seithe Assai!