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Clare Velez
Orrion Carn


Joined: 15 Sep 2009
Posts: 223
Location: Aboard The Killer's Fate II

 Post Posted: Fri, July 16th 2010 01:02pm    Post subject: Atzerri
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History
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Atzerri was a tradeworld in the Inner Rim Territories, near the Hydian Way. This planet was a member of the Association of Free Trade Worlds and only had as much government as necessary to stave off total chaos.

The planet consisted of mostly marshes and cities where almost anything, legal or illegal, could be had for a price. Arriving visitors ran a gauntlet of gaudily lit stores known as Trader's Plaza, designed to hook new arrivals and separate them from their credits as soon as possible. With little regulation, Atzerri is product of gandoise free market policies and utter corruption. Atzerri Air Traffic Control guided people arriving and leaving. The red-light Pemblehov District was a common hangout for drug addicts.



Talos
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Talos was a major spaceport on the planet of Atzerri. Other areas of the city included Traders Plaza, Pemblehov District, and Talos Port Medicomplex.
The Traders Plaza was a district in Talos on Atzerri where almost anything, legal or illegal, could be had for a price. Arriving visitors ran a gauntlet of gaudily lit stores that were designed to hook new arrivals and separate them from their credits as soon as possible
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Clare Velez
Orrion Carn


Joined: 15 Sep 2009
Posts: 223
Location: Aboard The Killer's Fate II

 Post Posted: Fri, July 16th 2010 01:42pm    Post subject:
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It was an uneventful trip through hyperspace to Atzerri, Clare sleeping through most of it. She was relieved that she finally got the rest she had been craving for the past week. Clare followed Jevan through the streets of Talos, it was surprisingly a beautiful place, but she could see the underlying level of crime as they walked through the Trader’s Plaza. But, luckily, none seemed interested in them. So far Jevan had been correct in his assumption that the bounty only went as far as Carratos.

Clare could hear the large holonet television screens above their heads talking about the regular news worthy B.S. that plagued everyday life. She wasn’t into the news, Publicizing The Truth was just a cover, they only broadcasted the juiciest matters of information, then manipulating them to where it’s not even truth anymore by their journalists.
But her eyes couldn’t help but wander to the holonet screens, as she heard a brief moment of static and the normal anchorwoman get cut off as another woman began to speak:

Greetings to the denizens of The Galaxy. I am Daara Zend, Grand Admiral of the Galactic Empire. It has been some years since I have been able to talk to you as a whole, and I will not waste your time.

I speak now to clear the ambiguity with which you have been faced, and to bring a solidarity out of the murkiness of the modern galaxy. I will not mince words. I will not treat you like children, nor will I lie and claim to value your opinion over my own, as is the manner of the current galactic puppet government. I would not tolerate falsity from you, and nor should you from me. However, your best interests are close to my heart, I assure you.

The so-called Galactic Union is void. I am not telling you anything you do not already know. The leaders are corrupt. They cater to the whims of their egos and act solely by their own interests. Any hint of blemish on their "legacy" is suppressed; all is framed perfect though the truth is opposite. It is an old story, and an open secret.

Meanwhile, the galaxy suffers…


She couldn’t believe it, Daara Zend, who Clare had only heard about in history books and spook tales of ‘Be nice or Zend’ll get ‘yah,’ she thought she died when she disappeared, or never return for that matter. But here she was, in the flesh and people stood watching, stunned as Zend continued her speech. Clare looked around, seeing faces around her express fear, excitement and enjoyment, even rejoice.
She turned to Jevan, with a clear look of disgust on his face even as others began to shout cheers and boos. She could see people begin to turn and shout at each other, threatening waving fists as Zend continued despite it.
“Let’s get out of here.” Clare whispered to Jevan as the crowd began to build in fury as Zend closed her speech:

I am offering a fresh chance for all. Reunite with the True Empire, rid yourself of the parasites, and fulfill the true calling of galactic unity. We will restore that which is greater than the mere sum of all of us.

Long live the Empire.


“Yeah.” Jevan whispered back as the crowd quickly began to get violent and throw punches at each other. The two rushed towards an alleyway, it seemed to be their haven, seeing as how they keep finding refuge there. They hid, watching as the riot got worse and worse, more people from everywhere joining in as the police began to interfere, but it was possible that they were having their own variants of the infighting. Zend was back, and things weren’t going to be the same. Clare knew that if she was addressing The Galaxy, that she was close to returning and starting another war, maybe a week in the least, no sooner.
“Frak.” Jevan let out after a moment of thought, “I hate Imps. Zend more than any of the others.”

“Really?” Clare retorted, remembering the disgust on his face a moment ago, “I wouldn’t have guessed.”
She peered around the corner watching a cloud of tear gas begin to flow around the streets as the police mobilized.
“So where’s this friend of your’s?”

Jevan quickly began to look around, trying to find what district they were in, “Hah!” he let out, then quickly pointing down the alley a little ways, “Just down there, actually.”
Jevan began to walk towards the direction he pointed, Clare doing the following this time.

Tag: Butters, Cheapy
Settling Old Scores First Previous Next Latest
Convictions First Previous Next Latest
Clare Velez First Previous Next Latest
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Clare Velez
Orrion Carn


Joined: 15 Sep 2009
Posts: 223
Location: Aboard The Killer's Fate II

 Post Posted: Sat, July 17th 2010 01:25am    Post subject:
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Clare and Jevan were led through a dark corridor by a rodian, a contact who Jevan connected with who work for Sarta Odominic Nesba, a Hutt on Atzerri. She suddenly didn’t feel comfortable, following a man who worked with Hutts wasn’t a pleasant thought. But nothing was comfortable now, not without Badim. The dimly lit hall made Clare’s eyes widen to try to see, even as she wanted to close them to imagine Badim’s hands on her shoulders, pushing her to continue her search. Clare must have been falling behind, Jevan placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her a few steps forward, “No staggering, this is an easy place to get lost. Plus Nesba won‘t like it.”

NesbaSarta Odominic Nesba, Clare tried to match the name with her memory until it finally came back to her. She had done business with Nesba three years ago, forced to work with the Hutt by Candrog as a silent bodyguard, in the hopes of getting in good with the Hutt Cartel.
She had distaste for Nesba, now that she looked back in her new perspective, a perspective Badim opened her eyes to. Nesba was sadistic in his dealings, working with intelligence as he sought loopholes in his business. He was lazy most of the time, careless in his appearances, which was the reason Candrog offered Clare up as his bodyguard.

They entered the main hall of the hideout Nesba resided in. Under the illumination of the lighting, Clare caught her first glimpse of Nesba in over three years.
“Nesba!” Jevan exclaimed as he extended his arms, showing no harmful intentions for the visit, “How yah been?”

"Kee chai U wamma wonka? (What did you owe me?)" Nesba rumbled his question, glaring at Jevan with his large eyes. Jevan took a step back, shaking his head as he recalled the debt he owed him.
"Uh—10,000, Nesba." Jevan uttered, then rubbed one of his arms in a nervous move. Clare wouldn’t have been so easily intimidated.

Nesba bellowed a low laugh, then continued with an almost happy tone, "Tagwa, Jevan. U wamma a wanna coe moulee rah, wonka? (Yes, Jevan. And how was it you were going to pay me back?)" the last words of his sentence coming off as a hiss. Jevan stood his ground this time and straightened himself.

"I'm just getting the credits now, I was on my way to Carratos for a job... When I got a bounty for 50,000--"

"And we were wondering if you'd clear it off our heads." Clare took the initiative, not to be totally neglected in this dealing. She was in this with Jevan now, might as well not stay quiet. But it was risky mentioning the bounty, especially to a--
Another low laugh erupted from Nesba, panting almost from the enjoyment, “Muna Nobata Bo Mi. Waki mi che che copah? Mi mah uha che copah oh muna. (You didn't need to tell me. What stops me from collecting on it? Then I may make a profit off of you.)"
Jevan took a step back, holding his breath, he didn’t expect Nesba to pull such a move, but Clare had already seen it, even if her thought was interrupted. Jevan was still holding his breath, so Clare took over again.
"Or else Candrog De'lotre will be on your ass with all of the Black Stars member." she hissed her bluff. Candrog was dead by her hand, and she hoped Nesba hadn’t gotten wind of it yet.
Nesba curiously looked at Clare, then continued the negotiations, in surprising basic for this sentence, "This one is feisty...she would make a perfect slave," he finished with a menacing laugh. But before either could reply to Nesba’s plan on taking Clare as a slave girl, Nesba continued again, "Jevan, there is nothing I will do. Not without... payment. A slave... would make it worth it."

Clare stepped forward daringly, hoping her bluff was still valid, "That how you wanna repay Candrog for having me protect you when that wookiee Chalika barged in?"

Another, more evil laugh ensued, "La lova muna, Jevan, shel woda bi gooddé shag doshu. (Thank you, Jevan, she would be a fine slave indeed.)" Nesba began to wave guards to slowly approach Jevan and Clare, interested in taking Clare as a Slave Girl.

Jevan stepped forward, slightly in front of Clare as a gesture of protection, "Nuh-uh. No way, Nesba!" he shouted, the guards temporarily stopping as they waited for further orders from Nesba.

"Well... Candrog is dead. You have no one to protect you. Bahe inkashe go, muna, Jevan, wonka-rah che copah. (More importantly, you, Jevan, owe me money...)"

Clare raised her blaster in an attempt at her own form of intimidation, "If you can still slither, you can have me." she dared Nesba. Her first bluff failed, she hoped this next one was more successful.

"Clare--" Jevan uttered, interrupted by an amused laugh that erupted from Nesba as he slithered closer to Jevan and Clare. Clare stood her ground, Jevan raising his blaster up as well as Nesba spoke again,
“Muna ah stoopa, human fela. Al shod mi cel muna, Pateesa? (You are very dumb, human woman. Or should I call you, Patessa now?)"
Clare suddenly felt infuriated, so much so, she didn’t hear the clicks of the blasters changing their settings to their stun mode, and fired.

Tag: Butters, Cheapy
Settling Old Scores First Previous Next Latest
Convictions First Previous Next Latest
Clare Velez First Previous Next Latest


Last edited by on Sat, July 17th 2010 01:50am; edited 2 times in total
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Kyle Fenris
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Joined: 24 Jun 2010
Posts: 125
Location: Elementary, my dear Watson

 Post Posted: Sat, July 17th 2010 06:01pm    Post subject:
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A lone figure strode through the poorly-lit streets of Talos, passing overloaded dumpsters, abandoned newsletters printed on ancient flimsy, and drunken vagabonds. The night sky was concealed behind black clouds of polluted air from the industrial districts, leaving all but the moon invisible to the naked eye. His worn boots sent soft echoes through the cramped narrows, and his dark green trench coat billowed behind him. A dark hood covered his face from view, but the light from a stubby cigar revealed an unshaved face bracketed by silver and brown hair.

He continued at a steady pace for several minutes, following the long alley that ran between two separate districts of the city as an unofficial border. Finally, he reached a battered durasteel door that had been retrofitted into the side of a warehouse lining the alley. A small control pad, its keys glowing dimly in the darkness, protruded from the wall beside the door. The hooded man reached out with a hand and tapped a code into the keys rapidly, as if to prevent any potential observers from reading the password, and the door slid open with a groan. Wordlessly he entered, his coat whipping inside just before the door sealed itself shut.

Several glowpanels hung loosely from wires inside the wall, and as the man entered they flickered to life. The light revealed three beings waiting on the far side of the small warehouse: a tattooed human male and two Rodians toting blaster carbines. The man was clothed in the distinctive garb of the Bloodreavers, one of the city’s most notorious swoop gangs. A dark crimson bantha-hide jacket hung loosely on his wiry frame, and his thumbs were looped in a duelist’s gunbelt as he eyed the visitor. “So,” he said, his nasal voice reverberating slightly off the metal walls and ceiling, “whaddya have for us this time?”

In response, Kyle Fenris lowered his hood and reached into one of the deep pockets of his coat, withdrawing a datacard and underhanding it to the swoop rider. Jikker snatched it out of the air and slipped it into a dataport built into his vambrace comlink. A holographic readout appeared above his forearm, and he read it in silence for several moments. His brow furrowed as his eyes scrolled down the page, and the Rodians tightened their grips on their blasters in response.

“What the kriffin’ hell is this?” Jikker snapped, looking up at Kyle. “Is Nesba karking joking with this plan?”

Kyle took a drag on his cigar and removed it from his mouth with two fingers. His other hand strayed to the blaster pistol on his gunbelt. “It’s exactly what it sounds like,” he answered. “Nesba wants the Bloodreavers to hit the Financial offices on that date to cover for another endeavor he is undertaking. He’s doubled the payment from your usual jobs, as well. Five hundred thousand up front, and one million more once Nesba’s own heist succeeds.”

“But the Financial offices?” Jikker repeated incredulously. “He wants us to ride inta one of the most fortified districts in the city, guns-a-blazin’?”

Kyle nodded. “Yes.”

Jikker swore softly to himself and tossed the datapad onto a cluttered workbench as he started pacing. Kyle glanced into the Rodians’ bulbous eyes calmly as they tensed their grips on the blasters. He could feel their unease through the Force like a heat wave, but they weren’t twitchy enough to risk firing. Yet.

Jikker himself was another story. Anxiety and uncertainty flowed from him freely as he considered Nesba’s offer. While he wasn’t in charge of the Bloodreavers, he was still considered one of the gang’s lieutenants, a coveted position. His unwillingness to support such a risky attack could be construed by other members of the gang as a weakness to be exploited in order to usurp his place in the pecking order. However, if he did support the attack and it ended up failing, even if he survived he would likely be demoted at best, killed at worst.

In the end, though, greed won out. A million and a half credits could fund the Bloodreavers for another year, perhaps eighteen months if they were careful. Which they never were.

Had he known about the deal, Nesba would never have authorized such a large reward. Fortunately, this was just one of many things that the Hutt, or the Bloodreavers for that matter, were aware of.

Jikker blew out a deep sigh and stopped his pacing. Kyle took a long drag on the cigar in his mouth, savoring the sweet smell, and crossed his arms. “Well?”

The swoop biker tilted his head and grinned slightly. Now that he was over his initial hesitation, the allure of credits was working its magic. “I’m in. I’ll pitch this to the boss tomorrow and do my best to sell it to him.” He retrieved the datapad from the workbench, and the Rodian twins relaxed slightly. “When should the boss contact Nesba?”

Kyle shook his head. “Nesba doesn’t want this to be traced back to him. Anything you want to say will go through me. I have ears and mouths all over the city, so he’ll hear what you want me to tell him.” A complete lie; Kyle had no intention of informing Nesba about the plan until it was already in effect…and, of course, until he was sure the Bloodreavers wouldn’t survive.

Jikkers grinned. “Heh. So you’re the fall guy?”

Kyle returned the smile as he placed the cigar between his teeth and raised his hood again. “Something like that.”

Tag: butters, Orrion Carn
Settling Old Scores First Previous Next Latest

_________________
Kyle Fenris - Jedi Master, Gray Jedi


"Do svidonya, mothaf**ka."
-Moff's reaction to spambots.


Last edited by on Wed, August 25th 2010 09:30pm; edited 3 times in total
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Clare Velez
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Posts: 223
Location: Aboard The Killer's Fate II

 Post Posted: Sat, July 17th 2010 11:10pm    Post subject:
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Clare snorted while she was bound in the exposing Slave Outfit. Made of a single sheet of Lashaa silk, tied together on her right by thin strings of jerba hide at her hip, waist and bra line, the remainder of the outfit covering her personal areas and flowing down her left side. A breeze, from where she didn’t know, came and chilled her exposed side, legs and arms. The thin, but still fat Nesba lay underneath her, Clare being forced to sit on his hide. His body was uncomfortably warm, she’d rather freeze than be warm right now.
She felt around her neck, feeling the metal collar that Nesba held by a heavy chain. She tilted her head towards the ceiling, not letting it hang or show defeat. She wasn’t defeated, still a little numb at the toes, but she was fit to spring at any moment. But Jevan was at risk now, being held in Nesba’s dungeon, two floors below the main chamber, freezing in Carbonite. This was a large base, and cleverly selected for the crime lord’s requirements.
“Bo, Taia Saretti, coona tiz muna’u doa nua? Taia? Ah Clare? (So,Taia Saretti, what is your real name? Taia? Or Clare?)

“Why should you care?” Clare hissed, thrusting her head away from Nesba to show exaggerated disgust.

“Voz wanna, mi’l cel muna, patessa. (Very well, I’ll just call you, darling.)”

“Call me that, and you’ll be dead.” she spat in reply, forcibly holding back her spit to not overly anger the hutt. No one, except for Rath Yavoog or Badim, if he chose to, could call her that. It was an insult from everyone else.

“Tiz, eh lovu koochoo Jevan, pim shuda u blastoh. (Try, and that idiot Jevan, will meet a blaster.)

Clare scoffed, but was suddenly pushed off of Nesba’s repulsorlift throne by his fat hands and onto the cold duracrete, crisscrossed by strips of durasteel. Some members of the audience laughed as she struggled against the chain and collar, tugging at the chain to hoist herself up. She placed her feet firmly on the ground, then she found herself as the center of attention, Nesba laughing as he watched her think of what to do. He gave a…helpful suggestion.

“Whirle, patessa. (Dance, darling.)

She stood her ground, defying his order. But with a clap of his hands, and the sudden movement of a pair of guards, moving towards a set of stairs leading to Nesba’s dungeon, Clare forcibly began to move and sway, carefully watching through the corner of her eye as she saw the guards return to their posts. Music began to play in the background, and Clare kept the beat as the cantina style song played, flowing and moving like a gas, a liquid, or even a mix of the two. Her sun kissed skin beginning to gleam under the dull lighting of the room, captivating the audience. She danced, until being yanked back to Nesba, her body slamming into his thick hide with a loud clap, reddening her arm from the force.
Her face was pressed into his skin, feeling the reverberating sound of his laughter as she hopelessly played that she wasn’t capable of defending herself. At least long enough to wait for help, if it came.

Tag: Butters, Cheapy W00T! I get to coop with you again, Cheapy! Ahh... Just like SWGBH and Rhen Var :p
Settling Old Scores First Previous Next Latest
Convictions First Previous Next Latest
Clare Velez First Previous Next Latest


Last edited by on Sat, July 17th 2010 11:10pm; edited 1 time in total
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Kyle Fenris
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Joined: 24 Jun 2010
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Location: Elementary, my dear Watson

 Post Posted: Sun, July 18th 2010 12:03am    Post subject:
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WHEEEE!

Kyle watched the girl dance.

He had returned from his meeting with the Bloodreavers a few hours ago, slipping quietly back into the crowd of mercenaries, thugs, and discreet financers that made up Nesba the Hutt’s personal audience to find that the Hutt had ‘acquired’ a few extra guests during his absence: a young human couple, Jevan and Clare. He hadn’t seen the former anywhere; he must have been thrown into Nesba’s dungeon. Clare, however, was a striking beauty. Hatred and rage radiated from her in waves, all of it directed at Nesba and his minions, but underneath it was a surprising resolve…and a wisdom beyond her years.

As he watched this trapped soul twirl and spin for Nesba’s amusement, Kyle felt a pang of sympathy for her. Normally he refrained from observing these displays whenever Nesba found a new plaything…but with the Hutt’s downfall within sight and his months-long plan finally coming to fruition, Kyle’s heart softened. Clare Velez deserved much more than to be an article of eye candy in a crime lord’s collection. Through the Force, Kyle could sense that she still had some part to play in the shifting galactic climate. To have her die of disease in one of Nesba’s dungeons, or in his beast pits as a snack for his pets, would be a tragedy.

There is no emotion, Kyle reminded himself. There is peace.

Yet he couldn’t stop watching the young Velez as she performed, literally for her friend’s life. Despite her resistance to Nesba’s demands, Kyle could see that she was weaving her emotions into her performance. To the low-brow grunts in the Hutt’s employ it probably seemed like any other dance…but Kyle had a perspective that they lacked.

As the music ended, Velez collapsed to the metal floor, her energy spent. Nesba and his cronies bellowed in amusement, and the Hutt jerked on the chain attached to her collar. She cried out in pain, sending a brief surge of anger through Kyle before he was able to suppress it, and shuffled over to the repulsor-throne to avoid any further tugs. Unable to bear the scene in silence any longer, Kyle dropped the simple illusion he had been using to prevent those near him from recognizing his features and stepped forward. “Bos’la nota shaan,” he said, opting on the traditional Huttese greeting. “<I see you’ve made a new friend, your Magnificence.>”

Nesba lifted his corpulent arms into the air–to the extent he was able–and chuckled deeply. “<Fenris, my boy! How did your meeting with the Bloodreavers’ envoy go?>”

Kyle removed the cigar from his mouth and dropped the used-up butt to the floor, snuffing it out with the heel of his boot. “<As well as could be expected,>” he lied calmly. “<Jikker promised to warn Captain Sharn not to interfere in your deal with the Financial Minister. After I explained to him what the price for said interference would be, he was extremely eager to speak with his boss.>”

“<Ah, Fenris, your silver tongue has no equal in this galaxy!>” Nesba exclaimed. Kyle briefly met the eyes of the Velez woman, and when he saw the pain and fury hiding just behind those irises he reached out with the Force for a brief moment, encouraging her not to give in to her feelings…yet. Wait for your chance, he advised her, although he knew she wouldn’t understand the exact words. Your time is coming.

Tag: Butters, Orrion Carn
Settling Old Scores First Previous Next Latest

_________________
Kyle Fenris - Jedi Master, Gray Jedi


"Do svidonya, mothaf**ka."
-Moff's reaction to spambots.


Last edited by on Sun, July 18th 2010 11:09pm; edited 1 time in total
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Clare Velez
Orrion Carn


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Location: Aboard The Killer's Fate II

 Post Posted: Sun, July 18th 2010 12:59am    Post subject:
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Clare hugged the brown robe that was given to her, to keep her warm while she sat in the cold dungeon, waiting for her next performance in Nesba’s Hall. Barks and hisses from exotic creatures echoed from the dark halls, along with droplets of water and faint screams of tortured prisoners. She had full feeling in her body again, her dancing washing away the rest of the numbness in her body. But as she stared at the carbonite prison Jevan was inhabiting across the hall from her, in another cell as a precaution, it felt wrong that she could even feel her body, Jevan couldn’t move, only think about the next time he will ever breathe. She felt cold, lonely again as she did in Jelahan’s prison, she carefully listened for a guard who would try and take advantage of her, like Preston had attempted before Jelahan killed him.
But she couldn’t move back then, now she could kill if the moment was aroused. She closed her eyes as she heard another scream, coming from a rodian, being eaten alive by an imported kath hound, it‘s distinct growls branding it as a horned ‘hound. The rodian screamed until he couldn’t anymore as the kath bore and mutilated him with it’s horns, then only silence followed as it gorged on the alien.
She kept her fists primed, tight and ready to throw a punch when an opening revealed itself, when the guards eventually came to take her back to Nesba.

She quickly hid her clenched fists under her robe as she heard footsteps approaching, but she suddenly felt the same sensation she did when she was dancing, calm when she looked at the man with the cigar in Nesba‘s Hall before she was taken here.
She waited, watching as the man she had seen earlier rounded the corner and stood in front of the bars, his cigar lit and playing between his fingers, before being placed back in his mouth as he spoke.

Tag: Butters, Cheapy
Settling Old Scores First Previous Next Latest
Convictions First Previous Next Latest
Clare Velez First Previous Next Latest


Last edited by on Sun, July 18th 2010 01:00am; edited 1 time in total
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Thomas Heckler
Butters


Joined: 07 Jul 2010
Posts: 150
Location: Not where you think... aboard the Elusive!

 Post Posted: Sun, July 18th 2010 04:34am    Post subject:
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Once the shuttle landed, the cargo bay opened up from the back, clunky with heavy armor and awkward in size, the speeder truck rumbled out. The two guards in the security detail were driving and Huutac, because of his tail, had to stand up in the cockpit with them. The pilots stayed back to watch the ship. Everything on Atzerri has a price. Upari sat back in his seat trying to relax. The inside was dank and musty, even with the air filters; at best they made it only moderately less disgusting. Gial sat in front of him on the opposite side. "It feels like home. I wish we were walking," Gial looked comfortable, slowly his chin pouch receded and then puffed back out contently. The weather seemed to calm him and made him forget about his wounded shoulder.

"It...is...very...hot..." Upari could hear Huutac panting. Unfortunately, the Trianii didn't have sweat glands and had to compensate by excreting saliva. Upari just sweated. Damn musty heat. He thought about summers on Corulag. His few good memories from back home in his childhood. Hunting or riding Bulfusi with his father. That was all before mother died. When she died, nothing was the same and the trips stopped. The heat wasn't the same, though, it was dryer back home. Corulag didn't have as many oceans as most worlds and that made for a very different climate. It was the swamps of Atzerri that added to the weather and the cramped quarters and bad filter system of the speeder truck only made it worse.

“I don’t know how you guys do it. This weather is terrible,” The guard driving tried to make small talk. “Haha… no, this is not that bad at all. On Mon Cal, this weather isn’t terrible, but it definitely could be better. Vast oceans. They stretch for miles and you cannot see the end of them,” Tresbrac laid back comfortably. “This…is…hot…weather…I…like it…forests…lot of…forests…but heat…feels good…soothing,” Huutac paused between every word trying to pant through the heat. “The humidity is terrible. I’m use to dry heat,” Upari tried to wipe the sweat off his brow to cool himself down. He was in a camouflaged jumpsuit which insulated him and made him sweat even worse, sticking to his skin, clinging to his chest and back. This… this could be worse. Definitely worse: I could be on Mon Cal.

They reached the inside of Talos proper. Upari was standing up and in the cockpit to get a better view. There were stoop kids, who lazily sat away the day, corner dealers in new clothes and everything seemed to be covered in a layer of grime. An old piece of paper hit the transparisteel window, the officer driving activated the window wiper and it flew over the truck top. “There is a lot of trash here,” queried the driver. “There is only enough government here to make sure things don’t completely collapse. The gangs are really in control around here…” Upari answered. This place was familiar. He could have sworn he’d been here before… In another life…

--

The clunky speeder truck finally made it to the edge of Talos, into the swamps. The tires were slowed by the clinging mud and morose slug. “Sir, the beacon signal is getting stronger, it looks like we are about one click away,” Reported the driver. “This place would be beautiful, if it wasn’t so… grey,” Upari commented. “Yesss…so…much…grey…need…green…need…color…” Huutac panted, still musky and hot, the swamp made things worse for wear. “Haha… so much complaining. This is much better. I do miss the ocean though. My wife, she’d be making custard bread, our younglings playing on the beach… beautiful beaches,” Gial seemed to get irritated.

Upari found him to be a very complex Mon Calamari. Usually they would be slow to anger and would concentrate on the task at hand. Something must of happened to Tresbrac that has made him so hard to understand. “What happened to your wife?” Upari asked. “It’s none of your damn business kid,” Upari ignored the insult. “Alright, buddy, all business is that it?” He didn’t answer him. “How far out are we?” Tresbrac tried to change the subject. “Sir?” The driver called back. They’d hit a rough patch of mud that shook the whole truck.

This time he stood up and walked over, “I said, how far…” all of a sudden, the unmistakable twang of a blaster rang out. The truck veered off into a ditch and the driver slumped over, dead. The other driver fell to the ground, trying to dodge the incoming bolts. Upari, jolted by the sudden crash, fell forward. “What the hell is going on!?” Upari screamed while on his hands and knees, he was scrambling for the other wall which had the blaster carbines on it. “Great oceans, it’s an ambush! You know… I think I told you so,” Gial was also on the floor of the truck with Huutac, who’d been thrown back on top of him. “In this situation, Gial, I think I’m warranted professional curtsy to figure out what the hell just happened!” Just then a grenade went straight through the hole in the front window and into the back passenger bay. “That can’t be good,” Upari yelled as the grenade went off and the world went dark.

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Kyle Fenris
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Location: Elementary, my dear Watson

 Post Posted: Sun, July 18th 2010 12:28pm    Post subject:
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Kyle removed the cigar from his mouth, letting the burnt embers drift to the damp floor as ne knelt in front of the ancient durasteel bars that separated him from Velez. She tensed slightly beneath the prisoner’s robe she had been given, but her eyes showed no fear.

“We have perhaps five minutes,” he murmured. “I’ve disabled the security cams, but it won’t take them long to suspect that it is more than a malfunction.”

“Who are you?” Velez asked, her brow furrowed slightly.

Kyle lowered his hood, allowing her to see his face. “I am sorry you and your friend have been caught up in all this. I have been working to undermine Nesba’s organization for many months now, under the guise of an information broker and a go-between for the Hutt and his allies. Events are in motion that will see Nesba’s allies turn on him soon…but they will not reach fruition for three more days. You must survive until then.” Kyle reached into his coat poet, casting a glance at the door to the holding area as he did so. “Act as though you have resigned yourself to this fate,” he continued, reaching a hand through the bars to grab Velez’, “Endure, but do not abandon hope. I will return once Nesba’s downfall is assured and together, you and your friend will escape.”

Holding Velez’ hand up, Kyle pressed something small and metal into her palm. Her eyes widened as she recognized the shape of the key she had been given, and silently she withdrew her hand and hid the key in her robe. Kyle stood, placing his cigar back into the corner of his mouth, and turned to leave.

‘Wait!” Velez hissed, clutching at the hem of his coat “At least tell me your name!”

Kyle half-turned to face her. “My name is not important, Clare Velez. What is important is that you know you are not alone.” With that, he raised his hood again and strode out of the dungeon, his boots splashing in the shallow puddles between the cells.

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-Moff's reaction to spambots.


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Clare Velez
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 Post Posted: Sun, July 18th 2010 03:07pm    Post subject:
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Written to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CeF7WTlnZnU

The music was booming again, the band playing the cantina-like song at their best for fear of losing their own heads. Clare performed her best as well, feeling the air chill her body as it flowed through it, feeling the reverberation of the song’s beat and the laughs and cheers from the audience, Nesba’s being the most profound as he watched her perform the seductive dance as she swayed and moved to the beat. She popped her hip out when a sudden beat sounded, bringing it back in with a sway as it righted itself from a brief side-to-side movement. She kept in perfect tune, feeling the music run through her naturally. She purposely wore a smile, distinctly with the hint of distaste that all slaves had on their faces, but she show no fear. Following the man’s advice to endure the punishment for just a few more days, hopefully with only a few more performances like this.

The chain still chaffed her neck, the cold metal rubbing against her fair skin, just as Nesba yanked her to him while other slaves entered and began to dance.
“Muna’r dohrah gooddé, Velez. (You’re doing well, Velez)” Nesba said as he began to gently pet her hair and shoulders, “Poaduph mi pim chu muna bu rah. (Perhaps I will keep you longer than the rest)

Clare didn’t answer, just hanging her head in a ploy of defeat, making Nesba laugh as he pulled the chain around Clare’s neck, making her yelp briefly in surprise as her body slammed against his hide again.
She tried to feel Badim, feel his hands on her shoulders instead of Nesba’s, feel with warmth of his smile, the beat of his heart. The feel of his fingers meshed with hers, the soft strokes on her cheeks that made her blissfully close her eyes.

She only needed to endure this brief trial a few more times, then she could continue her search for Badim.

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Kyle Fenris
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 Post Posted: Sun, July 18th 2010 11:02pm    Post subject:
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The com booth was somewhat cramped for a human male, but it would suffice.

As Kyle established the connection to the Financial Offices, his thoughts wandered to Velez and her male friend. He sincerely hoped she would be able to last until his plan came into effect. To have come so far in bringing down Nesba, only to have the victory soured by the death of an innocent…it would be bittersweet.

A clipped, arrogant voice emerged from the wired comlink in Kyle’s hand. “Yes? Who is this? It had better be important…”

“I have information for you, Minister Trekgo,” Kyle answered calmly. “I trust you recognize my voice.”

For several weeks now, Kyle had been secretly communicating with the Financial Minister even as Nesba had worked to secure the greedy man as an ally and financial backer. His attempts at convincing the Minister of Nesba’s untrustworthy nature had fallen on ears deafened by the promise of credits…but that was about to change.

Oh, it’s you again.” Trekgo snorted. “I’ve already told you, I have no idea who this ‘Nesba’ you’re constantly referring to is, and even if I did I would never–”

“The Hutt is growing impatient with your negotiations, Minister,” Kyle said, ignoring Trekgo’s cover story. “He’s hired the Bloodreavers to pressure you into accepting more favorable terms.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. “Go on.”

“They are planning on raiding the Financial Offices in approximately three days’ time. Nesba is paying them a considerable sum to cause as much damage and chaos as they can before your meeting with him next week, in order to give him more favorable terms.”

Kyle heard a sound of choked rage from Trekgo’s side. “That scum-sucking, slime-oozing, bastard of a slug–!” He paused from his tirade, his voice slightly suspicious. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Do you really think I want Nesba having more poowr on Atzerri than he already does?” Kyle asked rhetorically. “Double your security, Minister. After the Bloodreavers are dealt with, you will be the one with an advantage during your final meeting, not Nesba. The status quo is too fragile to change. Anarchy would be the only outcome.”

Kyle could practically see Trekgo nodding in agreement. “I see. Well, thank you for your call, sir. I shall take this matter…under advisement.” There was a soft click as the Minister disconnected the line.

Kyle hung up the comlink and stepped out of the booth, shouldering past the next person in line as he strolled down the filthy streets. Nesba’s palace was several kilometers away from this district; a necessary precaution for the sort of game Kyle was playing. If the Hutt had placed any tails on Kyle when he left the palace, it was extremely unlikely they would have been able to follow him this far from their stomping ground.

As the sun continued to dip below the horizon, Kyle pulled a half-spent cigar out of his coat pocket, lit it, and smiled grimly.

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-Moff's reaction to spambots.


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Thomas Heckler
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 Post Posted: Mon, July 19th 2010 04:15pm    Post subject:
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Still stunned, his arms were limp, lifeless. He could see the floor and his sweat slowly dripping off his brow down to it. His head was slumped between his shoulders. He tried to find the strength to raise it, but he failed. As his senses began to return, he realized he was moving. He could feel his knees scrapping against the mushy and disgusting floor. He didn't have enough strength to stop it. He was being moved against his will and without any power to stop it. While he tried, he recovered his sense of smell. He soon wishes he hadn't. His nose filled with a nauseating smell, wafting into his nostrils. The smell was vile and intoxicating. He took a side-ward glimpse to his left and right. He got only a blurry glimpse of his muscular captors. He saw the Gamorrean, his awkward protruding belly and from his distended snout and extruding horns dripped his drooling saliva. The sight and smell of a Gamorrean was excruciatingly mephitic. He could not escape this place, not without his strength.

What have they done to me? He thought to himself, as they dragged him awkwardly around a corner. The other man holding him grunted as he pushed against the wall to prop himself up and move Upari around it. He started chatter to the other. To Upari it just sounded like awkward grunts and detestations. He could hear his fatigues brushing against the ground while they dragged him further down, down the winding passages. While he was still overcome with the heat, stress and fatigue as well as the passing grogginess from being stunned and drugged, he could tell he was coming to the end of the tunnel. The light was slowly getting brighter and more intense.

For music...
Expand


He could hear music, but he still couldn't lift his head. He felt himself thrown forward. His face slammed into the ground. His body collapsed to the floor. All at once, the light came into complete focus and the band playing was in the background. Out of the haze came complete clarity, a loud bombastic laugh rang out in the chamber. To Upari it sent pangs of fear down his spine. "I know that laugh..." He whispered under his breath. He didn't hear the music anymore. In a few brief moments, the room was silent. "Chowbaso, Upari. <Welcome, Upari.> Bona nai kachu! <You’re in trouble now!> Boh...ho...ho..." While everything was still coming into focus, the voice was distinct, clear, he was afraid now because he knew who it was. He finally found his strength. "Sarta!" Upari said it with the disgust he felt for saying it. "Sarta the Hutt!" All at once, the Hutt came into focus, he was hidden in the dark and in the shadows. His big bulging florescent green irises played in the shadow and contrasted with his large gapping mouth.

"Chuba ree tinka chuba fooyu moocha tuta je, bukee? <You really thought you could steal from me, boy?>” He allowed his pale, slick tongue to whip around his lips, covering them in oily green ooze, like his tail played while he lounged in his makeshift throne. With him on the throne, Upari could see a beautiful woman. She was wearing only a few pieces of cloth to cover her, she was trapped by a brace on her neck and a chain the Hutt held in his hand. "Ho...ho... Hag uba panwa myo chik youngee? <Do you enjoy my dancing girl?>" He pulled her closer to him, licking her with his tongue. His small arms brought her closer to him. She pulled away, in disgust, cringingly she tried to tolerate his advances. "Ho...ho...ho... Da wompa sa un stoopa wompa, mo gootu spits tah. <This one is a stupid one, better tips to.> Ha…ha…" Upari shook his head, hoping to have feeling in it again. "Do Arkanian payokee wanga jee mo gootu soong. <An Arkanian stun grenade I had them modify it.> Boh...ho...ho...ho..." He was gloating. He'd finally found his prey. He could play with him, like a child with its toys. "Are you going to kill me, old friend?" Upari finally regained his strength, he looked at him, defiantly, without hesitation.

"Ho...ho... Chuba jah tchuta Heckler slimo, whao uba dopa-meeky je ka tinka uba vopa killee je gee un murishani? Hag ka tinka je un koochoo? <You tell me something Heckler slime, when you double crossed me did you believe you would kill me with a bounty hunter? Do you consider me an idiot?> " Upari remembered, Heckler. Once again, he felt all at once the waves and fever come onto him again. This time he wasn't forced, afraid, but angry, it resonated off of him. It was like a powerful aura. The painful memories of his mother's death, his initiation into the Hutt Kadijic on Corulag, memories he tried to hide were released. He wanted to kill the bantha mouthed bastard. "You've always been a disgusting repugnant bastard. Good to see you haven't changed. At all, e chu ta!" he concentrated, harnessed his anger, his tone was venomous and spiteful. "Ha...ha...ha... Chut chut, coo sa un fierfek? <Was that supposed to be an insult?> Ho...ho...ho... Yacha neechu! <Take him away!>” “I’ll kill you Sarta and take down everything you stand for! I’ll bring you to justice!” “Bargon wan chee kohspah. <There will be no bargain.> Ha…ha…ha…”

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Clare Velez
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 Post Posted: Mon, July 19th 2010 05:06pm    Post subject:
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Clare still cringed from the slime of Nesba’s course tongue that ran up her shoulder. It was wet and warm, making her shiver as she tried to forget the incident. She sighed, remembering what the man had told her, Endure, but do not abandon hope. It wasn’t easy, but she could do it. She looked at Heckler as he slowly recovered from the modified Arkanian stun grenade, Clare knew the numb feeling all too well, once with Jelahan and another from Nesba’s guards. She glanced over to a corner in the wall, a small crack in it with the faint gleam of the metal key that was given to her. She needed to wait, all she’d do is get killed without a plan of escape, she trusted the man who told her to endure, at least he had a plan of escape.

She turned her attention to Heckler, his eyes looking at the rest of his friends who were captured as well. “Are you okay?” Clare asked, directing it to the numb feeling that possibly still coursed through him.

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Thomas Heckler
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 Post Posted: Wed, July 21st 2010 03:53pm    Post subject:
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After his meeting with Sarta, his life became momentary flashes…

He flared with anger when the Gamorrean slammed him in the face. He spit back into his face, yelling “echuta!” He used the Hutt curse word with venom calling out his captor. He grunted back at Upari. This time, he hit harder and Upari went back into unconsciousness.

--

He found himself on the dock at Mon Gazza the sun was beating down on him, he had a heavy tan and wore a head scarf around his head to block it out, he still hadn’t gotten used to the harsh sun. The droids were loading the spices and weapons on his ship, the YT-2000 transport variant. They would make the periodic beep and bop, talking about how to load the cargo. He only hoped they wouldn’t scuff his ship loading skiff up like last time. He’d named it the Adventurers’ Delight, it truly lived up to the name. It may not have been the fastest ship or the lightest, but it had gotten him out of enough jams to be his lady fair. He was waiting for payment from an associate of Sarta, but he wasn’t going to show until the Hutt was paid. The Hutt would get paid first so Heckler knew his place that is how the smuggling business for Sarta worked. Heckler always convinced himself by saying it was good business sense, but now it became about status for Sarta over his smugglers. He would pay Heckler in advance only to keep him from getting paid off and then pay him when he got back after the delivery. It didn’t matter he did good work; Sarta was always suspicious of being double-crossed.

--

He drifted back into consciousness the Gamorrean was getting ready to hit him again. His arm slowly reeled back, this one he knew he was going to feel. His nose and eyes were already black and bloody, but the Gamorrean wasn’t going to relent. The Klatooinian came in again, just before he was going to throw his punch. “H'chu apenkee, Heckler, soong koona tah slagwa eniki. <Greetings, Heckler, it is going to slowly be okay.>” He sarcastically consoled him while he sadistically grinned. He playfully waved the inoculator in his face, they are keeping me on Bacta to beat me some more, heal my wounds, to prolong the pain. He pulled out Upari’s arm, yanking it to make it stiff and then let it rest again. He punched the needle into his forearm sending the juices into his bloodstream. “Eniki!” He waved off at the Gamorrean as he walked out of the room. They seemed to be tired out, the two Gamorreans who stood on either side of Upari, the pain was great but his anger was overwhelming, it kept him going. They grabbed him to take him to a cell he heard the guards talking about earlier. His vision began to blare and slowly he faded back into unconsciousness, it seemed the inoculator had done the trick.

--

He was older now standing on a tarmac in Curamelle City. He stayed clean shaven, he thought it looked better than the beard he grew going to Skynara and Llanic. It didn’t fit him nor did long hair. It was summer on Corulag, he could feel a gentle breeze, the sun lightly touching his skin with its powerful rays. He felt the charm smuggling had at one time done for him ware off. The associate had actually been an assassin, hired by another rival crime lord to trap and kill Sarta and Heckler. He wondered, association with Sarta makes me a target, I don’t get paid enough. He pondered his relationship with the Hutt, he mistrusted the system he constructed to protect himself, only his clan meant anything to him. Heckler was still a soldier, he could never occupy anything greater than that and would always be a target. That was when he realized what he had to do, right there. He had to kill the Hutt.

--

The guards threw him into the cell, his head slammed against the dirt-covered floor, his body collapsed from exhaustion. He slowly came to from his dreaming, still groggy. He hazily noticed the beautiful woman who was with Sarta. "How are you?" It seemed to him still a dream. Still in a daze he tries to understand the beautiful apprehension, "Who are you?" He began to see her clearer. "My name's Clare. How are you feeling, Heckler?" Her words had clarity. That name... He remembered his past, the terrible memories he thought he left behind. “You know more than most, now. The life I used to have. I feel exposed." She looked at him with mistrust, "You've worked with Sarta before?" "Unfortunately, when I was a boy. My mother had died and my father was distant, distracted. He loved politics, you see, and was an Imperial governor. He retired after that. That is how good a woman she was. It devastated me. I tried to distract myself. One day, I realized, I was too deep. I wanted to push Sarta out of my territory. I put a contract on him. I thought they got him that was what they had told me, the assassins I sent. He must have paid them off. After that I left and assumed a new identity, now I'm here. So, Clare, how did a sweet girl like you get here?" He rambled realizing how beautiful she was as she laid her head back.

"Me and Jevan over there," she pointed to Jevan as the carbonite centerpiece to the cell block. "We were on Carratos. We saved some passengers from pirates. But they fought back and put a bounty on us. Jevan went to Sarta here, to see if the bounty could be lifted." She tugged at her robe to cover herself a little more from the cold. "But instead, he put Jevan in carbonite for the reward, and I became Sarta's slave girl. We're both waiting to be taken by The Ravagers." She threw her hair back this time. She looked away from Upari, almost in shame. "But I need to find the one I love... he thinks I'm dead, and I need to show him that I'm not." Upari thought about Sarta ever paying a bounty off for someone. He could never think of a time unless he extended them credit he would want to collect later. "Ah, haha... you say Jevan thought Sarta would take a bounty off you two. Never would I ever think Sarta the Hutt to be a philanthropist for anyone." He joked, she didn’t seem to laugh. She assumed seriousness to hide her embarrassment over her naïveté. "I let my guard down. I should have known as much, having worked for Candrog De'lotre."

"Who is that?" Upari had never heard the name before. The name inspired the same villainy that a name like Sarta the Hutt did. "A twi'lek on Nar Shaddaa. He ran the Black Stars gang at least he did until I killed him rather than Badim. I assassinated for him, killed for him. Then he told me to kill Badim, but I couldn't. I began to love him, and I chose him instead of Candrog's protection." Upari nodded, but he was puzzled. "Black Stars, you mean the Black Sun?" Upari looked confused. "No, I mean The Black Stars, you've never heard of them?" She seemed surprised he didn't know who Crandog or the Black Stars were, probably since he worked for Sarta. She probably thinks, ‘don’t all scumbags know eachother?’ To Upari, she showed a layer of innocence in her naïve sense of the galaxy. "No, I always did business on Corulag. When I was a lieutenant on the Elusive we may have frequented near Nar Shaddaa, but I was never there long enough to get situated with the local riff-raff. And unless they were pirates trying to get into Republic space I probably would never have talked to them. I took leave off there once, but that is about it." He realized he was rambling again, maybe he showed her his innocence as well. "Good club scene..." He tried to save himself. "Never been in one. Usually if I was, it was for Candrog." He felt sorry for her. It seemed her entire life revolved around death instead of living her life as a normal human being.

"Well, imagine being on a ship for a month. The alcohol is awful already, then after having the same stuff for a month, you need something new." She threw her head back again. She laughed at his joke. She seemed to like his sense of humor. "Try being in a ship as it's crashing down on Rhen Var." She said, she was proud of her experience. He remembered his last time piloting a shuttle for the Admiral he would eventually replace as Captain of her ship. "Well, how about a shuttle into heavy Coreillian traffic?" He smiled. It was a good memory, one that may not reflect his good piloting skills, but truly was an experience he would always remember. She laughed. Color finally seemed to be coming back to her face. Before she had looked, pale, sad and lonely, like something or someone was missing. "Been there." She looked down pondering. She slipped an embarrassed grin. Upari felt confused. She was blushing. "Good memories then?" Upari looked at her, she is most intriguing. "Yeah." Her grin turned into a big smile. She seemed to be thinking about her one true love. Upari was a romantic, he longed for that kind of love. "Sometimes I think all I have is my memories, certainly not an identity..." He stared off through the bars and toward the stairs with introspection. He thought about the burden carrying an identity that is not you, the burden of carrying it for the rest of his life, with no one to share it with and no one to care for him.

"I know what you mean, but my memories tend to only bring back feelings of guilt." She seemed depressed, sad and out of place. He smiled invitingly, he wanted to comfort her. "Imagine having blood on your hands?" He said, sardonically and solemnly, remembering how many he had killed or how many indirectly died in his past life as consequences to his past actions. She frowned, sadden, "That, and more." He tried to be understanding. "Ha, I could say that and so much more. I can't even go back home." He could feel her pain. She radiated in it. His aura seemed only to exude anger and jaded bitterness. "I don't even have one anymore," She looked away from him again. She looked through the bars introspectively wondering and considering. "Except for Badim." She seemed to perk up with his name, Upari felt a little jealous, but restrained his primitive urge to dominate. "Who?" "The one I love, I mentioned I was ordered to kill him by Candrog?" He didn't remember if she had or not. "And, instead you fell in love?" He looked at her with alluring eyes, she didn't look away, just deeper into his deep blue irises. She seemed fixated on them. It made his heart beat faster. "Funny, huh?" She made an awkward smile, like there was something more she wanted to hide or she was simply nervous.

Upari may have seemed imposing to her, he was large for his height. "You are a romantic, even systems apart, you still love him. This makes you human." He shrugged back, while it may have been nerves, he still felt the after effects of the drugs. "That is why I need to find him... He thinks I'm dead." "Someone came after Badim for revenge, and 'killed' me for killing his son. Eye for an eye." Upari again was confused. "Killed you, but you are sitting right here?" "Jelahan faked it you see, the man kept me alive. Why? I don't know. All he told me was he wanted Badim to experience his pain twice over. I escaped, being a trained assassin. And went to Carratos, where I got mixed in here." She has such a terrible life, Upari thought, I should help her. "Being a trained assassin? That must have been hard." He tried to consul her again. "Nine years. Two as a mercenary..." She closed her eyes, it seemed to Upari she was wishing the years away, the training and the death dealing. "And seven as Candrog's assassin. I was his deadliest, not letting any victim slip away." She still closed her eyes, trying to wish them away, one by one.

"Badim studied his victims, deciding whether they were true targets, or just innocent people caught in the crosshairs of a gangwar. I love him for his passion for protecting the innocent." He could tell she was trying to convince herself as much as Upari she loved Badim, guilt seeped into her words. "He could have killed me too for what I did, but he saw how I wanted to change too. And he was willing to sacrifice himself for me," She said 'scarifice' like it was a word dear to her, solemnly. "when Candrog had me under his complete control. At least we had friends to help us out of that. That's another story, however." She was hiding something and didn't want Upari to know, but he did want to know, because he felt like he needed to know to save her. "Friends, huh?" She was a lost sheep and had to be called back to the flock. "Yeah, another story like I said." She was defensive, trying to hide her fear and anger from Upari. He realized he was in a touchie situation. Upari tried to change the subject. "So... how are we… you know?" He stared at the security camera. She did to. "I have a plan. Being a resourceful assassin and all." She winked. "I see, give me heads up when something does happen." "We'll see." She said, curtly. Immediately after, she curled into a corner, wrapping her robes around her for warmth. Upari thought about giving her his officer jacket, but he realized it was probably covered in sweat and it would have been a horrible idea.

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 Post Posted: Wed, July 21st 2010 03:54pm    Post subject:
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Double post... :?
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 Post Posted: Thu, July 22nd 2010 03:27am    Post subject:
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Clare walked the streets of Nar Shaddaa alone, trying to find a purpose here. Everything seemed bigger, and everyone seemed like giants to the sixteen year old, intimidating her. Even with all the hardened layers that surrounded her barely functioning heart, she still felt fear. She was weaponless, defenseless and vulnerable. She tried to scrounge up as many credits she could find or steal to get something to defend herself, but only coming up with fifteen of the currency cards. She glanced into an alley that she was passing, noticing a dead body, and a figure noticing her, then quickly running through the alley and into the darkness. She cringed, carefully approaching the scene with dangerous curiosity, studying the rodian’s corpse.
It was adorned with multiple stab and slash wounds from vibroswords along the arms and legs, and shot several times in the chest from a blaster. She looked up, noticing a hole in the side of the creature’s nose, more like a slit now, something having been ripped out of it.
She looked up and around her, trying to see the figure she saw a moment ago, but it was long gone, vanished.

Clare looked at a blaster in the death grip of the rodian’s jade and scaled hand. She reached for it, using all of her strength with a wince to pry the fingers apart, gripping the prize in her hand: A DH-23 blaster. She looked at the charge, barely knowing how the thing functioned. It registered three shots remaining inside, just as she heard her heart jump from surprise as a weequay stepped behind her, “What do we have here, boys?”

“Looks like we got ourselves a promising slave for Drekka.” Another weequay commented as he sparked a stun baton to intimidate the teenager, and it worked, making Clare step back and tumble over the rodian’s dead body, making her cringe in fear as she tried to grip the blaster with strength.

“Hey,” one pointed out, jokingly nudging another’s shoulder, “What she gonna do? Throw it at us?

They began to laugh, scolding the girl as she shakily pointed the blaster at the lead weequay, then fired with a surprised yelp from her mouth. The alien spun as the bolt hit his shoulder, landing on his butt, looking at Clare with anger and surprise. He looked to his two fellow weequays, telling them to get the girl so they could get paid.
Clare took aim and fired the last two rounds into the other aliens, not killing them, but wounding them in various places as her aim shakily shifted and swayed, unfamiliar with the weight of the weapon. Shock flowed through her that she was actually harming someone, another living being. But these three were cruel, and were only looking to exploit her for credits.

Clare quickly realized that weequays weren’t very brave, and left to lick their wounds. Clare stood, retreating in an opposite direction, bumping into a man a few years older than her. “Eh-eh…” she uttered, trying to collect the words to say, “There were three weequays over there--” she shakily pointed, then dropped the blaster from the violent movements, “They were going to kill me.”
The man looked at her, he was roughly seventeen or eighteen by the looks of it, but she feared everyone now, and quickly picked up the blaster on the ground in order to try and play that she was armed. He looked at it, then wrenched it out of her hand and reloaded it for her with a fresh clip. He handed it back, but he still had a cold look on his face, cold and meaningless it seemed.
“Go.” he said brashly, his hazel eyes dully shining.

Clare didn’t hesitate, and ran through the alleys and away from the man. She looked over he shoulder, to see that he was already gone. Was he the one who killed that rodian? Clare asked herself, realizing that the man had vanished much like the figure she saw. She was distracted, and nearly conked her head into a duracrete wall. She righted herself, then hid the blaster as she reentered the streets of Nar Shaddaa, heading back to the alleyway that was her home.

Present


Clare awoke to the gleam from a crack in the wall, realizing it was the key she had hidden, waiting for the man to give her the signal to use it. She looked around, seeing Heckler was asleep. She wondered why he was being so friendly, vaguely picking apart flirts and advances. She ignored them, and went back to sleep.

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Kyle Fenris
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 Post Posted: Sun, July 25th 2010 06:17pm    Post subject:
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To a more squeamish being, the sight of an enraged Hutt would be terrifying.

As it was, Kyle was running through Jedi calming exercises to steady his nerves as Nesba raged above his repulsor-throne. The Hutt was currently bellowing at the top of his lungs in animal anger, and the remains of his protocol droid lay crushed off to one side, a testament to the amount of strength in his tail. Most of his minions were keeping away from his throne out of fear of suffering the same fate as Kyle continued to project his aura of illusiveness, escaping notice for the most part.

Finally Nesba regained some control of his emotions, wheezing angrily as he spoke. “<Those…those backstabbing chuttas! How dare they double-cross ME?!>”

Kyle stepped forward, spreading his arms apart and bowing out of deference as he did so. “<My sincerest apologies, your Magnificence. Had I known the Bloodreavers planned to betray you, I would not have allowed their negotiator to leave the meeting alive.>”

For a moment Kyle feared that in his rage, Nesba would vent his frustration on him and order his execution. Thankfully, the fire inside the Hutt died out and he slumped on his throne. “<Months of negotiations,>” he croaked mournfully, “<Ruined by a band of idiots…>”

Fool, Kyle thought smugly, although he was careful to keep his expression neutral. Ruined by careful planning and deliberate manipulation.

Despite his apparent success, Kyle was still wary. His plan was not yet complete; Minister Trekgo still had to place the bounty on Nesba’s head to drive him off-world and into hiding. And there was something else, a tremor in the Force was warning him that all was not as it seemed. He extended his senses, reaching out among the crowd to try and determine what he could be feeling. Aside from the usual miasma of emotions and thoughts, all of them now tinted by fear and anxiety, he could sense nothing. Kyle extended his sphere of awareness to encompass Nesba’s entire palace…and twitched slightly as he felt waves of rage and a need for vengeance emanating from the entrance.

No…

A blaster bolt rang out through the hallway to Kyle’s left. He suppressed the urge to draw the light saber hidden up his sleeve, and instead allowed his hand to stray near the blaster he wore at his belt. Nesba’s entourage whirled individually towards the door, many of them going for their blasters.

The body of Nesba’s majordomo, an elderly Trandoshan female, fell forward with a smoking hole in her abdomen.

Behind her, an armored figure strode forward confidently. Kyle recognized Krant, the Feeorin leader of the Bloodreavers. Impossible! How could he have survived? Kyle could see that his Dura steel armor was pitted and scored, and the alien’s face bore a blaster burn so new the charred flesh still wept. Krant held a blaster in each hand, however, and as he crossed the threshold of the entrance he swung both pistols up towards Nesba.

The Hutt roared in outrage, and almost as one every member of his gang pointed their blasters at the former swoop gang leader. Kyle drew his own blaster and his finger tightened on the trigger…but to fire would risk setting off a chain reaction.

For a long second, the room was filled with the whine of charging blasters and the click of safeties being disengaged.

Finally, Nesba himself broke the silence. “<You…you dare come here? After destroying my plans with your bumbling attack on the Financial Offices? What, have you come to gloat? You will not leave this room ali->“

“What are you babbling about, you backstabbing slug?” Krant growled. “I did exactly what you wanted! My men and I hit the Offices like you paid us to…only the credits you gave us were counterfeit! And not only that,” he said, his voice rising as he limped forward a few more steps, but Trekgo was waiting for us! Half of his security force was waiting for us to play the gates…and the other half hit us from behind! You sold us out to your new boyfriend!”

Nesba opened his mouth to form a rebuttle, but his mind was still wrapping around what Krant had said. Kyle felt his stomach sink, and as he raised his perception aura again he slowly backed away, making his way through the crowd to the door.

“<FENRIS!>“ Nesba bellowed, shifting his gaze to Kyle’s retreating form. He jabbed a thick finger in his direction. “<SEIZE HIM!>“

Tag: Orrion Carn, Butters So Kyle is going to thrown into a cell near you. He’ll have hid his lightsaber in the rafters above the throne room (Which he’ll use to save Clare from a blaster bolt as they escape) so they won’t know he’s a Jedi until then. Sorry this post was so long in coming, I‘ve been setting up a new desktop computer and have had to wait until all my stuff got transferred from my laptop.
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Clare Velez
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 Post Posted: Mon, July 26th 2010 12:36am    Post subject:
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Three days now, the man should be here soon to get Jevan, Heckler, his friends and herself out of this mess. She remained vigilant, continuing to endure and keep her mind focused on Badim to comfort her. She tried to imagine his smile, the warmth of his kiss and the beat of his heart, but it seemed to be fading more and more into a dream as the days whined down to this moment, whether the man would live up to his promise or not. She tried to calm herself, repeating The Way of the Blade in a murmured whisper while Heckler slept again:
“To mold the mind and body.”
“To cultivate a vigorous spirit,”
“And through correct and rigid training, To strive for improvement in the Way of the Blade.”
“To hold in esteem human courtesy and honor. To associate with others with sincerity.”
“And to forever pursue the cultivation of oneself.”

“And to stay one’s blade from the flesh of the innocent.”

She hadn’t rehearsed the lines in so long, only knowing that Badim would do so frequently. She now realized what continued to sting her resolve, she wasn’t staying her blade from the innocent, and thus she felt guilt after realizing what Badim had when he saved Sara. Not all of his or her targets, kills and murders were guilty of innocent bloodshed and were just caught in crosshairs. She was so fogged with the death of Rath that she didn’t see what Candrog was within, a corrupt being who would have her kill to give him an advantage, who just got in his way or literally just stepped on his foot accidentally.

Badim realized it partially, studying his enemies and targets to make a decision to release them or not. But when Dirod had threatened his foster parents, he knew that he was in the wrong place and retaliated, even if they still died by Dirod’s hands mere days later.
She looked at him after they died, after looking at their smoldering corpses. She saw innocence and sorrow in his eyes, far less than the fire and remorse for her death, however. But that’s what must have triggered her to rethink her placement, her resolve to kill Badim. It’s what must have drawn her to him, not only for him himself for a chance for love and a relationship, but to not feel the guilt she sudden was placed with when she looked into his eyes, after hearing his release of Sara and how he protected his once family the best he could from Dirod.

That’s what made her love him, want him, need him. She needed someone who had gone down the same path to comfort her, to lead her to a better tomorrow and future, together.

A door creaked open from down the hall, and she quickly straightened herself, priming her hand to grab the key on the man’s order. She kicked Heckler’s leg, hard enough to wake him up but not enough to hinder him if they needed to run. He began to stir, almost letting out a brief cry from surprise, but Clare quickly muffled his mouth to let him know to be quiet. He seemed to like it, he must have definitely been trying to flirt with her when he first arrived.

“Chowbasa tah do newpa bunky dunko cho uba nee choo, Fenris (Welcome to your new home before death, Fenris)

Clare didn’t let her body or mind falter as she heard the insults and the brief grunt as Fenris on the other side was kicked in the stomach, she could tell it was faked, having done so herself a few times in the past. Letting your captors think they had you under their grasp would throw their guard down almost instantly.
The rodians, weequays and grans laughed and left after throwing Fenris in his cell. He could hear him panting until the door closed, where he gathered himself instantly after the show.
“Fenris?” Clare asked, hoping it was the same man who approached her three days ago, “You okay?”

She used it to get his answer, to hear his voice to assure it was the same man as before.

Tag: Cheapy, Butters I didn‘t want to have the group escape, I didn‘t know if you guys had something planned or not (except Butters, who said go ahead), and I didn‘t want to talk through Kyle, since I know that’s how you play, Cheapy ;)
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 Post Posted: Wed, August 04th 2010 01:15pm    Post subject:
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Joint-posted, consented and approved by participants of this plot.

Fenris in the other cell was quiet, not responding to her question. Clare almost gave up, wondering if he wasn’t the one who was going to set them free. She began to walk back over to her cot, dimly wondering if her faith in the man she met three days ago was misplaced. She closed her eyes and pressed her hand against the duracrete wall as she began to sink onto the cot. She needed to make her own escape, and she prepared to grab the key when Fenris in the other cell finally spoke up.
"Not...quite how I...imagined this going." Fernis muttered, finally acknowledging Clare. And his voice was the same as the man who gave her the key three nights ago, this was finally going to be her chance to escape and find Badim.

"I'll take that as a yes then." Clare said in a relieved tone, walking back to the wall that separated Fenris from her and Heckler.

"I have been better." Fenris said, beginning to stand wearily.

Heckler stood, nudged Clare‘s shoulder and asked in irritation, "Who's this guy? Another friend who thinks he knows Sarta?"

“He's a friend. Trust me." Clare said in a whisper, but she quickly realized that even with the cameras, Fenris had already been exposed. As long as she didn’t mention the key, they’d be able to do this. She turned back to Fenris on the other side of the cell walls, separated by durasteel bars, "At least I hope you're one, Fenris."

"Your suspicion is not uncalled for, but unnecessary at this point,” Fenris said, “Would I be here if I were your enemy?"

"So far I've had a rough go, another enemy I do not need." Heckler said as he folded his arms and leaned against the cell wall that separated the group.

Fenris chuckled in amusement, Clare also found Heckler’s comments amusing at times, but he quickly felt his ribs in pain and grimaced.

"Ow... buddy, be careful there." Heckler said caringly.

"What'd they do to you? You look worse than..." Clare said, but was quickly reminded of the death of her teammates and friends. Fenk, Aria, Jensi, Aleena… Rath. She had lost a part of herself that day five years ago, and Badim had helped reclaim it, she loved the feeling of being her true self, but without Badim she was becoming a shell again.

"It is uncomfortable, but not permanent. I shall be fine,” Fenris said as he relaxed from the pain, "My pain was not...entirely faked."

"So, what's the plan, Fenris? Do you want me to..." Clare caught herself, remember the cameras that were watching them, but she made the pause noticeable for Fenris to understand what she was subtly referencing to.

"Not yet, I think. We still have some time." Fenris laid his head against the duracrete wall, then continued with a smile across his face, "I imagine our mutual friend is quite busy at the moment."

"I bet." Clare said, partially returning the smile.

"My plan worked well enough," Fenris glanced down on his bruised ribs, "Although not as well as I had hoped. It won't be long before Minister Trekgo decides to strike back at Sarta. When that happens, we must make our move."

"Agreed." Clare said.

"In the meantime, it appears we have guests." Fenris looked back and noticed Heckler, then turned his head to his friends in an adjacent cell.

"What plan? Are you all frakking crazy or something?" Heckler hissed. Tapping his forehead to express that they were loose in the head.

"That would depend on your definition...of crazy." Fenris quickly answered.

"Well, this is great... What are we going to do?" Heckler said, crossing his arms again as he waited for someone to answer him.

"Do what Fenris said: Wait." Clare retorted.

"For what?" Heckler turned and asked Clare, being a little calmer towards her than he was to Fenris.

"You don't pay attention well, do you?” Clare asked, quickly realizing that he didn’t when he was fumed, or busy flirting with her. She shrugged the later thought away and answered him, “We wait for Minister Trekgo to attack."

"In the meantime, I believe introductions are in order." Fenris turned and reached a hand through the bars, "Kyle Fenris," his mouth opened for a split second, pausing then continuing, "New Republic Intelligence."

"Clare Velez." Clare said, shaking Kyle’s hand, but refraining from expression her occupation.

"You two are crazy, what the frak is Republic Intel doing here?" Heckler exclaimed.

"I could ask you the same question…Captain?" Kyle said, glaring at him suspiciously.

"Well, at least I wasn't dumb enough to bring myself right in front of the big worm,” Heckler retorted in irritation, “I had to be ambushed, out in the country where no one lived."

"Shut up will you?" Clare snapped, he was clearly referencing her and Jevan, the man frozen in carbonite in another cell. She let out a heavy sigh, being reminded of what led to this point, "We didn't have a choice, we had fifty-thousand credits on our heads. I wouldn't have gone along with it if I knew Jevan owed money to Sarta." She paused, then added, "Or if his friend was a hutt in the first place."

"Well, that was your own dumb fault in the first place,” Heckler said, not taking the calm approach he was a moment ago, she felt like punching him so he would shut up, though all that would bring is more arguing unless she hit him hard enough, “Who is this Jevan character anyways?"

"None of us are here by choice or intent, Captain…Heckler,” Kyle interrupted, effectively stopping Clare’s thought of knocking Heckler out and making her concentrate on escape, “There is nothing to be gained by infighting."

"None of us are here for our clean backgrounds,” Heckler commented, then traded looks with his friends, Jevan’s frozen form, Kyle then Clare, then said, “But I do want to know how we can get out of here and rely on some attack to take place."

"Not with the cameras." Clare murmured.

Kyle glanced at the cameras, “We don't need to worry about them.” Clare looked at the cameras as the red, occasionally blinking light died. Something was suspicious about it, but he had been working with Sarta for a long while and he probably knew all the holes in this place.

"I have spent the past several months posing as an information broker and go-between for Sarta the Hutt.” Kyle said, just as Clare had suspected, but she was still curious to a more exact reason than a New Republic Intel Operative. But it was possible that he was just this talented with planning stuff out, “As we speak, a plan I have been preparing for much of that time is nearing fruition. We need only wait for our chance."

"I've waited for three days, I can wait a little longer.” Clare said, turning her gaze to the floor and started to narrow her eyes, thinking about Badim.

Kyle gripped the bars and leaned closer, "Your thoughts are troubled, Miss Velez."

"It's..." Clare hesitated, the words reminding her of Lucas or Kyp, but Kyle was an Republic Intel and probably had the same skills, minus the ability to use a lightsaber or the Force. She let out a sigh, then vented what was going through her head, "It's the one I love, he thinks I'm dead. I'm just wondering what he's becoming without me. Last I saw he was in an outrage at my... Death."

"Vengeance is a powerful motivator...and a dangerous weapon to wield.” Kyle felt his shirt pockets, trying to find one of his cigarettes, the same brand that he smoked when she first met him she assumed. But he sighed after he felt his pockets fruitlessly, then continuing, “If he is not careful, he may lose that which he seeks."

"That's why I'm trying to find him... To stop him before someone innocent gets hurt. I don't care what he does with the man who played my death and destroyed his resolve. I just..." She didn’t care if Badim killed him, mutilated him or even both. She knew it needed to be done, the was a killer, purposely looking to harm Badim and whoever he could use as leverage. That man needed to be stopped. She closed her eyes, remembering the night they had shared together, "I just want him to be happy. Like he was before he thought I was dead."

Kyle reached through the bars and grabbed her hand sincerely, “I have a…feeling that you and Badim Soilding have some greater part to play in the galaxy, Clare Velez. Too great for either of you to die now."

Soilding, Clare muttered in her head, How’d he…?
Clare didn’t make the confused thought express itself on her face, just simply agreeing with him, "I guess you're right. But I need to find him quickly, I don't know what he'll do after he's finished with the man." She looked back to the ground, the thought of what he would do haunted her, What would he do?

Kyle tapped Clare on the chest, where her heart beated, "He may be closer..." He retracted his arm from her chest and from between the bars, "...than you suspect."

Clare nodded, then returned to her cot, sitting within reach of the key Kyle had given her, ready to react on his order.

Tag: Cheapy, Butters Let‘s get this done! WOO!
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Thomas Heckler
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 Post Posted: Mon, August 09th 2010 05:32pm    Post subject:
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Beautifully done, gentlemen.

Upari, Heckler…it was moot at this point to try and keep his identity secret. It was all getting quite confused in his head. It had been long enough for him to have confidence in his double persona. However, he had everyone know his true identity.

“Well, Captain, what did he say?” Tresbrac was uncomfortable. One of Sarta’s Dac with grudge against Mon Cal folk had kicked his teeth in before they were thrown into the cell. Huutac wasn’t looking well either, still panting from the aftermath of his beating. Apparently they were trying to understand secret intel, probably for their information brokers on Atzerri to make money off them.

“We’re getting out soon, he told me…” He eyed the guards who looked at them curiously. They all huddled around each other in a corner of the cell, so the guards and cameras couldn’t hear them. “The local security forces here are going to be coming to knock this place down and take us out,” Upari tried to keep his voice low, making it seem like he was making small talk.

“Who…is…this?” Huutac looked toward Kyle through the bars.

“Republic Intel, apparently…but I don’t care who he is, he said we had a way out so I say we take it,” They both nodded with resignation. Upari stood and walked over to the bars. As he did so did the mysterious man on the other side. The girl got up from the cot she had been laying on and turned to face him.

"Well, there is enough time for getting dramatic later can we get back to getting out of here?" Upari asked, even though he tried to convince his officers otherwise, he was as worried as they were about getting out. Clare folded her arms and glanced at Kyle, as if waiting for him.

"Patience does not come naturally to you, does it Captain?" Kyle said nodding toward Upari. It reminded him of an information broker he met while he was a smuggler, he always told him to keep his patience. Then it was Niathal and her Mon Calamari upbringing, she had a way of balancing him out, but she wasn’t here.

"Working for that no good, double-crossing, meat bag as a smuggler can change a man," he replied. It was closer to the truth than he wanted to let off, but containing his emotions had become second nature to him.

"Imagine working for him as a negotiator," the Intel agent said.

Upari looked at Kyle, inspecting him. "How you got sucked into that role makes me question you all the more...” He couldn’t understand how a man like this would work for Sarta or his ilk. “You aren't his type."

Kyle seemed to return the glance. "Hence, why I have spent so long trying to bring him to justice.”

It seemed to Upari this guy was a dreamer, like Niathal who always had the higher value of their work in mind. "Justice? On Atzerri? Good luck," Upari couldn’t believe it was real, decent people on a planet so devoid of them.

"Try Carratos," Clare interrupted suddenly. It seemed she was thinking on the same wavelength, only she had never seen a decent person and doesn’t trust anyone.

Kyle shook his head. "I wasn't referring to the local judiciary, captain. I answer to a higher authority."

I’m sure you do, the clouds in the sky and the illusions in your mind. "Justice, since when did Repub Intel get patriotic?” he shot back sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood.

Kyle seemed unfazed, and he nodded towards Upari’s cell. "Since Hutt crime lords decided to kidnap Republic naval officers.”

He made a good point, but the captain had a little more tact than Kyle was apparently planning on. "Hell, I'm a Captain and I still can't trust patriots, they have blind faith in a political institution." He changed the subject.

Kyle began rummaging through his coat pockets, searching for something. "Is it blind faith...ah!" He abruptly withdrew a cigar stub from his breast pocket and stuck it in the corner of his mouth, "...or hope?"

It seemed like he might be for real, molded in the same caste as his mentors in the past. "Hope for what, the Galaxy to change?" Upari asked, playing the devil’s advocate. He liked to test those he needed to trust.

"Does the Galaxy need to change?" Kyle responded up, chewing absently on the end of the spent cigar as if wishing he had a way to light it.

"The world is dangerous, even for a normal person walking down the street.” He remembered the commotion outside his cell and overheard the guards talking about some attack on the Financial Plaza. The techniques that served him well for many years seemed to still have a good use. “I heard about the attacks you planned, were they necessary?”

Kyle shot him a reserved look. "As you said, justice on Atzerri is rare. If it requires the deaths of a band of remorseless killers such as the Bloodreavers to help bring peace to this planet, then do any of us have the right to say no?"

"No, but when innocent people are caught in the cross fire, who do you have left to say it was right?"

Kyle chuckled at the quip. "I wasn't aware there were any civilian deaths in the attack."

Upari hadn’t heard about any either, but he was still trying to make a point. "I'm not either, but I'm sure hitting a busy financial district you're going to kill someone who shouldn't have to die. Living their life, free and without fear, then they are cut down for a diversion," He crossed his arms, almost daring Kyle to rebuke his point.

Clare looked at the Intel agent. "No one deserves to die, Kyle... Except for those that do," She held nothing back, but seemed unconvinced.

"That's...rather cryptic, Miss Velez,” Kyle brought his attention to her, playing with his stubbed cigar in his mouth, rolling it around.

"It's from Badim. He told it to a killer he worked for when he broke himself free from him. Urnath Dirod. Dirod's Crime Order if you know, Kyle."

Upari had never heard the name before, "Urnath Dirod?"

"A crime lord from Nar Shaddaa. He was at war with Candrog, the one I worked for. You remember me telling you about me working for him? Badim worked for Dirod, and I was sent to kill him. But instead, I fell for him. It's...rather interesting actually. He's innocent, trying to deal with his failures like me, and I love him for it. He's just like me in a way,"

Upari was not blind to love. He could sense the connection she had with Badim. "Ah...two bounty hunters working for the opposite team?" he asked, his interest piqued.

"In a sense, yes."

As Clare was explaining her connection to the criminal, Heckler felt Kyle quietly eyeing him. While not overtly, he seemed to be inspecting him, trying to understand him in a sense. "I hear what you’re both saying. Order is important, but not vital... freedom must be preserved." It was something he remembered Admiral Niathal saying.

"Freedom stems from order, Captain," Kyle said, stressing captain slightly with inquisitive curiosity.

"Certainly, but when there are those who strangle freedom and stomp out thought to bolster their own power, the system becomes dangerous." Upari looked at him with stern seriousness when he said that. He remembered the lectures his father would give him as punishment for acting out, he’d always tell him he needed to look at the greater picture, never to forget that he had a role in making things better. He always hated to hear about them and even joked with his brother about them, he wondered if it actually had rubbed off.

"Such as our corpulent friend upstairs, for example?" Kyle made an obvious remark. Everyone Sarta had pent up at this point had mutual feelings.

"But when do the ends justify the means? How many lives are worth it?" Upari demanded.

Kyle seemed to be searching for an answer when a muffled boom rocked the palace, sending dust floating down from the ceiling.

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 Post Posted: Mon, August 16th 2010 10:10pm    Post subject:
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It appears the courtesy of my hall has lessened as of late...Huge apologies to all involved (And to those who may be reading this) for the lateness of my post. I'll be splitting the escape into two parts so that you won't have to wait another few days to start reading it, and to prove that I've been making progress. :p

Expect the other half within the next couple of days. And I mean that this time.

As dust from the ceiling continued to rain down on the group, Kyle turned to Clare on the other side of the bars. “Miss Velez, it’s time–”

“Please,” she said, standing from her cot as she reached into her sleeve, “call me Clare.”

Kyle offered her a small smile. “Clare, if you would be so kind?”

The former assassin withdrew her hand from her robes, clutching a small iron key. Upari stared at the two of them in confusion as Clare moved to her cell’s door, reached through the primitive durasteel bars, and slid the key into the lock. With a quick twist, the door was unlocked and she effortlessly swung it open.

“How in the Nine Hells–” Upari began, grabbing onto the bars of his own cell and pressing his face against them.

“It pays to have a backup plan, Captain Heckler,” Kyle answered as he moved to watch the entrance to the dungeon. So far, so good…he stretched out through the Force, feeling the minds of the guards who were standing guard outside. They suspected nothing. “Now mine, if you please,” he said. “As quietly as you can.”

Clare softly made her way around the rectangular cell block until she was standing before Kyle’s door. Again, she inserted the skeleton key Kyle had slipped her, and the door opened. The hinge squeaked slightly as it swung, and the two of them froze as they jerked their heads around to glance at the entrance.

Nothing. “Now the crew,” Kyle said as he stepped out of his cell and towards the carbonite slab on the far wall. Clare nodded and silently walked to the cell holding Upari and his officers, holding a finger to her lips as she freed them. The Mon Calamari groaned slightly as the captain and one of his other men helped the aquatic officer to his feet, but Kyle still sensed nothing from the two sentries. “Take care of the guards,” he hissed. “I will see to your friend.” As Clare and Upari moved to flank the doorway, Kyle examined the control panel for Jevan’s impromptu prison. The controls seemed simple enough, so Kyle typed in the appropriate command code for unfreezing the slab’s sole occupant and took a step back.

Almost immediately, the carbonite began to grow warm as the stasis field around Jevan Corr rose in temperature. The field would protect him from the superheated metal as the slab melted, and Kyle watched as the carbonite began to bubble and drip onto the floor. As it melted away, he could see the faint blue haze that surrounded Jevan’s prone form. When the last of the white-hot metal had been drained from the pod and into the grate beneath it, Kyle deactivated the field. Jevan’s hands, held up just in front of him as if to ward off an unseen attacker, fell to his sides as his head rolled to one side. Kyle spared a glance to Clare and Upari; the pair were working on hotwiring the control panel that would unlock the entrance and were otherwise occupied.

Drawing on the Force, Kyle closed his eyes and laid a hand on Jevan’s brow, sending a small surge of energy through him. The boy’s eyes snapped open and his mouth opened as if to scream, but Kyle moved his hand in an instant from his forehead to his mouth and leaned over him to hold him still. “Be silent!” he hissed, holding a finger to his lips. “Unless you want to be placed back in stasis, that is.” Jevan’s eyes flicked back and forth as they searched Kyle’s features, then they shifted to Clare on the other side of the room. She happened to glance back at that particular moment, and a smile of relief and crossed her features. She nodded at Jevan reassuringly before turning her attention back to the panel, and the boy ceased struggling.

Kyle pulled away from him, offering a hand to help the boy up. Jevan tentatively accepted it, grunting in pain as he willed his aching body to rise after being held prisoner for so long. Kyle slipped his shoulder under Jevan’s arm and supported him as he swung his feet over the lip of the pod and onto the floor. Kyle felt the boy’s back heave, and he quickly stepped away as Jevan fell to his knees and retched. “The nausea and disorientation will pass shortly,” he said, squatting beside him and laying a hand on his shoulder. “Can you run?”

Jevan wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and managed a dry chuckle. “We’ll find out.”

There was a soft hiss of pneumatics from where the entrance was, and Kyle turned to see Clare and Upari reach through the opening and subdue toe guards with a pair of expert choke holds. As their limp bodies slid to the ground, the two relieved them of their blasters and turned back to the rest of the escapees. “Let’s move,” Clare said, hefting the rifle she had appropriated.

Kyle stood and hurried towards the door, waving for the others to follow. “There is a small armory down the hallway to the left,” he said, gesturing through the doorway. “We should stop there first to arm ourselves.”

Upari nodded and raised his blaster rifle, taking the lead and covering the opposite hallway as the prisoners moved through the door behind him. Kyle palmed the door release and stepped inside–

–and nearly collided with a Twi’lek guard who was leaving the armory.

In a heartbeat Kyle brought his palm up and slammed the heel into the guard’s chin, snapping his head back. He followed with a closed fist to the exposed throat, causing the guard to reached up to protect his damaged windpipe…and allowing Kyle to reach into his belt, remove his blaster, and jam the barrel into his stomach.

The guard’s eyes widened just before Kyle pulled the trigger. The whine was mostly muffled, and the flash was obscured by the doorway and those inside of it. Clare and Jevan entered just as the guard slid to the floor, a smoking hole in his abdomen. Jevan looked slightly unnerved at the quick kill, but Clare paid the body almost no heed. “Not much here,” she said as she opened the closest weapons locker and eyed the contents. “A few old blaster rifles, mostly surplus E-11s, and a half-dozen DH-17s.”

“It’ll do,” Kyle replied, moving beside her and reaching his hands in to remove two of the blasters. They began passing out weapons to the rest of the group until everyone had at least one. Upari and Jevan hefted the best-looking blaster rifles and flanked the doorway as everyone checked the room for anything else of use. Kyle buckled a holster for one of the blaster pistols beneath his coat and checked the charge on the guard’s blaster. Mostly full, although the power pack looked dented. He tried ejecting it and frowned when it failed to drop down. Jammed.

Kyle searched the locker for another blaster, but there were none left that were in any better shape. Others will need them more than I will, he decided, and turned to leave the armory. Jevan and Upari took point as the group made its way down the other hallway, towards the stone stairwell that lead to the palace’s upper levels. Just as they reached its base, there was another muffled explosion from above…followed by the repeated whine of blasterfire.

“The Financial Minister’s troops will be after Sarta,” Kyle warned. “They’ll head for his throne room first, right by the hangar bay, and they won’t bother asking if we’re friends or enemies of the Hutt before opening fire. Don’t hesitate to shoot if we encounter them.”

Clare nodded and poked her head into the stairwell, making sure it was empty, but Upari’s eyes narrowed. “Shouldn’t we at least try to tell the Minister’s troops that we’re friendly? They could help us get out of here, and you want us to shoot them?”

“They’ll have authorization to kill everyone in the palace but the slaves,” Kyle answered. “As far as Trekgo’s concerned, we’re all accomplices to the Hutt. The fact that we’re armed won’t help our case any…unless you’d prefer to lower your blaster and wander the corridors, looking for a trooper to surrender to?”

Jevan chuckled, a soft booming noise that drew a scowl from Upari. Kyle watched as he shouldered his blaster rifle like a professional, slowly sidestepping up the stairwell as he stared down the sights. Until now, he hadn’t been sure who the Force sensitive he had detected was…but the surge of anger and indignity that had emerged through the Force confirmed it.

Captain Upari Heckler, Republic naval officer, was a Force sensitive.

It was unlikely the captain knew of his potential; his power was slightly below average, but with training that would increase. Kyle resolved to keep a close eye on Upari as they made their escape…and to speak with him about his ability after they were well away from this world.

Kyle raised his blaster and began his ascent, Jevan and the other Republic officers close behind.

Tag: Orrion Carn, Butters Here’s the first half of the escape we talked about.
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 Post Posted: Fri, August 20th 2010 03:53pm    Post subject:
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Kyle’s danger sense flashed, and he dove forward to avoid a trio of autoblaster bolts that scorched the corridor wall above him. He tucked his legs into his chest and rolled, coming up running with his borrowed blaster in one hand and firing towards the Gran manning the tripod-mounted weapon. His bolts pierced the alien’s chest and caused his body to dance before slipping to the ground. His hand, locked on the autoblaster’s trigger, jerked down the firing stud while simultaneously pulling the barrel towards the ceiling. A barrage of crimson bolts blasted apart the duracrete above the late thug’s comrades, showering them in debris and sparks.

Before they could clear their vision and resume firing, Upari and Jevan spun around the corners of the T-intersection they were taking cover in and opened fire with their blaster rifles on full auto. The heavier bolts sent Sarta’s guards reeling back and blew small chunks out of the walls around them. When the smoke cleared, the checkpoint was in ruins.

“Move,” Upari ordered as he shouldered his rifle again and continued forward.

Sarta’s palace was a small maze of curving corridors, access tunnels, and seemingly-random intersections that were often used as security checkpoints. However, despite passing several such locations on their ascent to the hangar bay this was the first group of guards they had found still manning their posts. All the others had been abandoned, usually stripped of their weapons as if Sarta’s men had packed up and gone elsewhere.

The good Minister must have hired extra men for this assault, Kyle reasoned, if Sarta is having to empty the lower levels to defend the rest of the palace.

Whatever the case, it meant that Kyle and the others were making excellent time as they raced through the maze of hallways and to the next staircase. The turbolifts, they had discovered upon leaving the dungeon, were out of commission, leaving the circular stairwells the only means for them to reach the hangar. Kyle made a show of checking the next one with his blaster, even though he didn’t sense anyone at the top. Despite his partial exposure and capture at Sarta’s hands, no one knew he was a Jedi…and perhaps that was for the best, at least until they escaped. Kyle the Jedi Master was likely to attract far too much attention on a planet such as this…whereas Kyle the Republic intelligence agent would have a much better chance of being unnoticed.

Despised, perhaps, but unnoticed nonetheless.

“The way is clear,” he announced, hustling up the stairs as he did so. “We should not be far from the hangar by now. Only one more level to go.”

“Stairs,” Jevan grunted as he took the steps two at a time, cradling his blaster rifle. “Why’d it have to be gorram stairs?

Clare gave him a playful shove and hopped past him on her way up. “You’d rather climb the turbolift shaft?”

The rest of their banter was lost on Kyle as he reached the top of the stairwell. He stood before a wide balcony that extended over Sarta’s ‘throne room’, where Kyle had often come to relay information to his false master. Where his carefully-constructed plan had fallen apart, landing him in his former employer’s personal dungeon.

Where he had seen Clare Velez for the first time…and felt the touch of destiny on her.

The throne room was empty at the moment; overturned chairs and drink tables were littered on the far side, while the Hutt’s repulsor-couch sat on the raised platform that allowed Sarta to tower over everyone else in the room, regardless of species. The balcony was connected to a smaller stairway that led down into the room itself, and on the other side Kyle could see the wide corridor that led to the entrance chamber…and the hangar bay.

Upari was the last one to reach the top of the stairs. Despite the sweat staining his rumpled uniform in places, he was breathing the lightest out of all of them, apart from Kyle. Jevan was almost bent double with his hands on his knees as he panted from climbing. The short hibernation has had more of an adverse effect on him than I anticipated, Kyle reasoned. The boy had done well to make it this far without any sort of rest, let alone fight his way through one of Sarta’s security checkpoints.

“The hangar bay is only a few dozen meters down that corridor,” Kyle said as he pointed down into the room below. “There will be a blast door on the left. I have the security code.” Suddenly, the sound of blasterfire began to echo down the hallway and into the throne room. “Unfortunately, the entrance is located further down the same hallway. Minister Trekgo’s men must have broken through the perimeter.”

Upari cursed. “Figures. The one way we have to get out of here, and a platoon’s worth of men is heading straight for it. What are the odds?”

“When Sarta designed the palace,” Kyle said as he moved to the edge of the balcony, “he wanted to ensure that anyone entering from either the main entrance or the hangar would have to travel through this corridor. It is filled with ray shields and autotargeting blasters, but I have the codes to disable those as well.” He took a brief glance over the edge, judged that the fall would not injure him, and leapt over the banister. He grunted slightly as his knees bent to absorb some of the shock. “We must move quickly, however.”

Upari and Jevan followed Kyle’s lead, slinging their rifles over their shoulders and vaulting the banister. Clare led the two injured officers down the stairs, emerging from beneath the edge of the balcony. Stretching out with the Force, Kyle took a step forward…and almost froze. Malice and malevolent anticipation filled the room, permeating it like a physical aroma.

They were surrounded.

Kyle’s danger sense lit up like a Coruscanti night. Before he could stop himself, his boot came down on one of the fallen drink glasses, crushing the largest shard into powder with an audible crunch. Time slowed as hidden alcoves around the throne room snapped open, revealing dark gunports. Almost simultaneously, Kyle heard a faint click emerge from beneath his boot, and he pivoted it slightly to reveal a Merr-Sonn MicroDet mine.

He whirled towards the others even as he heard the beeping whine of the mine counting down. “Ambush!” he shouted, gathering himself to leapt to the side, away from the blast–

Too late. The mine exploded just as his feet left the ground, hurling him into a wall. Kyle was dimly aware of white-hot needles stabbing into his leg as his back slammed into the duracrete, stunning him. The hem of his cloak was in flames, but for a split second his mind felt like jelly as Clare and the others pulled back behind the cover of the balcony’s support pillars. Blaster fire erupted in the cavernous expanse of the throne room, blowing craters out of the escapees’ cover and forcing them to pull back even further without returning fire.

Kyle summoned the Force back to him and willed away the pain from his injuries. He propped himself up on one elbow and struggled to raise his blaster, aiming it at one of the alcoves. Inside he could see a Trandoshan operating a heavy blaster, his focus on Kyle’s trapped friends. None of the thugs seemed to notice him, or else they believed he would pass out soon from shock. Kyle centered the crosshairs of his blaster on the Trandoshan’s forehead and squeezed the trigger.

Click.

The power pack was empty. Kyle muttered a Hutt expletive that would have made Sarta’s tail curl and dropped his weapon as his strength waned. The spent blaster clattered to the floor, followed by Kyle’s hand. His vision blurred and began to fade into darkness…but before he succumbed, his head rolled back and he caught a glint of something silver and cylindrical in the grating above the throne room.

Kyle slipped into unconsciousness as Clare called out his name.

Tag: Orrion Carn, Butters
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 Post Posted: Fri, August 20th 2010 04:10pm    Post subject:
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“Kyle!” Clare shouted as she saw him collapse on the ground and roll on his back, gazing at the ceiling before his eyes closed solemnly. She knew his injuries had just knocked him out. It was the best advice she could give herself as her cover exploded in heat and the smell of burning ozone filled the air around her. She grimaced and flinched into a tighter position, then peering back at Kyle before ducking back in. She saw some cover near Kyle, and if she could make it she could pull him into cover.
“Jevan!” she shouted, “Cover me!”
Jevan nodded and yelled a quick order to Heckler and his men, to give cover to Clare as she suddenly sprinted forward and past sets of pillars as the turret tried to follow her movements, temporarily being distracted by Jevan and the others poking out and firing at the trandoshan.

She slid next to Kyle and began to try and shake him awake, “Kyle! Get up damn it!” she shook him violently just as a blaster bolt singed the locks of her hair, slicing a portion off. Her head whirled around to see a man standing in front of her, his blaster trained on her forehead.
She grimaced as a blight light came over her and brought her back to her life. She saw her father, her mother and her brother on Naboo having a vacation, her moment with Badim and accidental kiss that changed her heart, tears rushing down her face as she tried to commit suicide to try and let Badim live. She quickly saw darkness as her eyes closed and their bodies were stripping aboard the Leaper, kissing passionately… The look on Badim’s face at her death. Now she was truly dead this time…

Tag: Cheapy, Butters
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Kyle Fenris
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 Post Posted: Fri, August 20th 2010 05:57pm    Post subject:
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Played to the second half of Groove Addicts – Interstellar. Start at 1:45.

Kyle’s eyes snapped open.

Clare was kneeling beside him, having pulled him behind the edge of the inert repulsor-couch. Her eyes, full of fear and sadness, were fixed on a grimy-looking man with a blaster pointed at her forehead. In the split second after awareness flooded Kyle’s mind, he could sense a wave of emotions rushing through Clare…longing, fear, acceptance, and sorrow that she would never see the one she loved again.

You and Badim Soilding have some greater part to play in the galaxy, Clare Velez. Too great for either of you to die now.

Instinctively, Kyle lashed out with an open hand and Sarta’s gunman was hurled backward as an invisible fist smashed into his chest. Kyle held his other hand toward the ceiling as he leapt to his feet in front of Clare, ignoring the pain that was screaming through his legs and back. The gunman scampered to his feet, raising his blaster as he shouted a warning to his comrades. From inside their murder-holes, three of the shooters shifted the barrels of their weapons towards Kyle and Clare. The gunman fired–just as the familiar weight of Kyle’s lightsaber slapped into his palm.

Snap-hiss. 2:32.

Clare cried out as Kyle batted away the blaster bolts, sending all three of them into the thug’s chest. The guards on the level above opened fire as well, hoping to overwhelm him with sheer volume, but the Force was flowing through Kyle now. After months of purposefully suppressing his ability in order to escape notice from Sarta or his men, it was like stumbling across a raging river in a deserted wasteland. It felt good, and nothing was going to stop him now. As the emerald blade of his saber weaved a wall of defense against the blaster bolts, he gestured with one hand, making a fist and jerking it towards him. The shooters’ weapons were yanked out of their positions, flying towards Kyle and Clare. He bisected each one with a clean flourish before sending the pieces, their edges still smoking, back towards their owners. There were three sickening crunches as the destroyed weapons smashed into the alcoves, followed by several grunts of pain and then silence.

Not content to stop there, Kyle leapt up and back, sliding cleanly into the murder hole above where he and Clare were. His boots caught the gunman occupying the hole in the chest, throwing him back against the wall. As the other two thugs turned to bring their weapons to bear he gestured, ripping them out of their hands and flinging them away. One man pulled a vibroblade from his belt and charged, still high on adrenaline and not thinking clearly. Kyle’s blade sliced across his chest and he dropped like a dead weight.

The final shooter stumbled back in the darkness of the sentry alcove, his hands held in front of him. “Please…” he said, reaching the far wall. Kyle continued to advance, his blade held at his side and humming malevolently. “Please!” the man cried, falling to his knees in desperation.

A moment later, a pained cry emerged from the murder hole Kyle had entered, followed by a sharp rise in the lightsaber’s pitch.

Kyle let the thug’s body fall off his blade before he sheathed his lightsaber. He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose, continuing to draw on the Force to sustain himself. His injuries were not insignificant, but with his connection to the Force no longer strained he would be able to ignore the pain until they were offworld.

Opening his eyes, he flicked a finger, and the alcove’s hatch slid open behind him. Taking one last look at the body of the man he had just impaled, Kyle dropped down to the throne room below, his lightsaber still in hand. After clipping it to his belt, he offered a stunned Clare his hand to help her up. “We must leave, now.”

Tag: Orrion Carn, Butters I’m going to finish the rest of the escape, but first I wanted to give your characters a chance to react to what just happened.
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Location: Not where you think... aboard the Elusive!

 Post Posted: Fri, August 20th 2010 11:01pm    Post subject:
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When they got into the corridor Upari had the strange sense something was going to happen. Then everything seemed to flow from one event to the next. Click, the sound sent shivers across his spine, his muscles tensed with anticipation his heart began to fluttered nervously. It was a mine, Kyle had stepped on it. He watched him try to leap out of the way, his body seemed to tense up as he spun around, "Ambush!" In the wide corridor he saw the numerous alcoves hidden behind sheets of dark plasteel that receded into the duracrete cover. Upari delayed only a moment when his rigorious military training kicked in telling him to grab Kyle to stop him from moving off the mine and setting it off.

The impending explosion, however, outran his calculation and sent Kyle flying into the air as the mine exploded under him. The flames enveloped his legs and his cloak in a brilliant yellow and red burst. The air from around Fenris levitated him, forcing him up against the pillar near him. Accepting he couldn't save his new friend from the blast, Upari slightly stunned by the explosion managed to dive for cover behind a duracrete pillar supporting the balcony he'd just jumped from. He was just barely teared to pieces by the incoming blaster fire. "Echuta!" Upari said it at the top of his lungs, but the hail of ionized fire drowned out his expletive.

He fired instinctively for the first alcove he saw, forcing the Trandoshan manning the blaster tripod at the far end of the throne room to duck.

Click.

His heart fell, he was filled with pangs of anxiety, his weapon jammed. He fell back behind the pillar. He had only one powerpack and it was the one in the blaster, it seemed to be half full, but he couldn't eject the pack.

He closed his eyes.

"Cover me!" Clare shouted, he opened his eyes and he looked around the corner, she was running toward Kyle who had gone unconscious most likely from his injuries. Upari acted, click, the blaster continued to jam. Finally, his sight trained on the forehead of the Trandoshan before he fell back to the ground, ducking, while Huutac fired bursts from his blaster from the side. He managed to chip the duracrete, but he missed the gunner. He felt all hope was lost.

Elvis Presley - You're the Devil in Disguise I thought it was appropriate, start at :18.

Kyle seemed to become conscious, his eyes flashed open and a split second later his arm shot out in the direction of Trandoshan, he leapt from out of his alcove toward them with a DH-17 Blaster Pistol.

Magic. A rush of wind seemed to project out from Kyle's fingers, it was like the air was sucked in toward the rushing Trandoshan. He slammed against his duracrete barricade his head smashed against it, cracking. His blaster seemed to stop in mid-air before it fell to the ground the room seemed to stand silent. He's a Jedi. The gangsters surrounding them trained their sights on Kyle and Clare who seemed stunned to see what had happened.

Listen to like the first minute.

With seeming precision Kyle instinctively sent each bolt of hot blaster mounts toward the Trandoshan who had apparently not died they slammed into his chest, instantly killing him. The balcony above them suddenly filled with men, they trained all their blasters down on Kyle. It was as if he could direct the wind. The familiar silver and cylindrical shape of a lightsaber seemed to explode out from the grating above the throne room.

Snap-hiss.

Kyle ignited his lightsaber. The emerald blade emitted a bright yellow light that filled the room, illuminating the room in a colored tinge. He batted away each shot fired at him. Upari stood back in lingering disbelief. Kyle sent each blot back toward their owners. He ripped the tripod mounts and blasters, what seemed out of thin air, toward him. The wind seemed to surround the air around Kyle.

Upari realized their opening, they rushed in toward each alcove. Kyle leapt up to the balcony, Upari ran out from his pillar to see him climb into the hatch. He could see him lashing at the gunners up top with each wave of his lightsaber. Their blasters flew out and on to the ground in front of Upari, clanking on the ground. His saber waved back and forth as he attacked each man with deadly precision. After a moment, there was a pause in the fighting, an audible "please" came from out from behind the barricade on the balcony. Then the charged air surrounding the lightsaber let out a gust of wind as Kyle sheathed the blade.

Just then, the hatch flipped open and Kyle flipped out, Upari was still stunned by what just had happened. He couldn't believe he was in the presence of a Jedi knight. He had obviously heard of them before, but had never met one up close and in person... that he could remember.

--

Listen this was written to that theme.

He flashed back to when he was a young boy, no older than fourteen years old. His father was behind him and his mentor Lord Daksati Antsiri stood in front of him. He was ready for a duel in his father's training room. He had his father's vibrosword, it was modified with a cortosis weave and shined with brilliant electricity. Lord Antsiri wielded his own, he gestured to the boy with his weapon. His father touched Heckler's shoulder, pushing him out. He assumed his fighting posture, elegantly brandishing his blade, pointing it toward his mentor.

His muscles tensed, he lunged forward, attacking him ferociously he let his anger toward his father go. He released it on Lord Antsiri with each brutal blow, he merely returned, countering them. He was conserving his strength, letting the boy get exhausted. "Boy," he would always say, "you let your emotions control you, desire sets you off balance." He carefully tripped young Heckler, sending him to the ground, he quickly jumped back on his hands.

He recovered to his feet, his mentor took advantage of the confusion, they joined swords. He could feel his mentor's strength buckle him under pressure. He couldn't understand where it had come from, he seemed to push his sword, it was as if the air around them was sucked into the force he exerted. "I am only here to teach you lessons, you must learn to beat me. Let go!" He pushed finally breaking their embrace forcing Thomas to the floor again, this time Daksati put the blade to his face. "Because you always defeat yourself if you don't." Just then, Heckler snapped the sword, cracking it against Lord Antsiri, he fell backward. "No, Lord Antsiri," He leapt up again, putting the sword into his face, the edge an inch from his chin. "It is I who has taught you. I used my emotions to cloud your judgement. To fool you, I allowed you to underestimate my skill and now I have beaten you. I am now the mentor teaching the boy." His mentor smiled, "very good, boy, very good."

--

Upari looked confused, had his mentor been a Jedi all along and his father tried to hide this fact. He wondered if he had done so to protect him. Then again, the Empire had destroyed the Jedi Order, it must have been impossible to find one. However, he would have to asked him later, they had to refocus on escape. “We must leave, now,” Kyle said as he clipped his lightsaber to his belt, offering Clare a hand up from the ground. They still had to escape and seemed to have a clear entrance.

Tag: Cheapy, Orrion Carn
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