...yeah.
(The droid's tinny yap was window dressing, and I had more important things to do at the moment, anyways. Ducking and dodging cargo pallattes, I navigated the narrow walkways to the port bulkhead. Then...I stopped. Even if I knew where the beacon was...what then?
I looked up to the service hatchway.)
You got any way of picking off this hitch-hiker without decompressing the hold?
(I paused. Wait a second....)
Strike that...is there a comm port jack down here?
Arya's head felt like a bantha was sitting on her face. Luckily the smell didn't come with the sensation. Her brain wouldn't tell her fingers what the correct commands were and the droid inside the Wing of the Raven, transponder-masked as the Habitually Late, was being uncooperative.
"Comm jack? Yes, should be one -" Her voice broke off as she heard Threepio in the background of the intercomm. Frell. Forgot about him. "Threepio can show you where it is." She flipped off the intercomm, and looked at Diego. "Sorry for dragging you along. Once we get the motivator fixed, I can drop you back on Kalarba. Is s'Ilancy still with you?" Her mouth made idle conversation while her head screamed in pain and her body felt like crawling into bed.
Arya reached up a hand and scratched at the edges of the synflesh on her forehead. Damn things always itched.
"She is still with me, yes."
He reclined in his seat, thick arms crossing over his chest as he continued looking away...all in total, disarming leisure.
"Now, you've got my curiosity piqued, Rima. What has gotten you in such a hurry as to trample me with your speeder, and have our paths cross again."
He looked back to her, blue eyes twinkling.
"And, in such distinguished company. No doubt Mr. Prent is unaware of your natural talents."
"I've got my suspcions" I stated, noting that the sound of Oriadin being ill had subsided, "But of course proving it will be the problem""I'm betting there'll be opportunities for that to change soon enough. Any ideas on who's behind this?"
"Aint it always? Give me somewhere to start from - what's your suspicions?"
"Trade Federation. Commerce Guild. Maybe even the Cizerack, although this isn't quite their style. This is a bit too amateur. Hiring thugs off the street and using rockets isn't quite how I would go about attacking a Jedi."
I paused, and a frown began to crease my forehead. Pierce was right on the ball, sensing my change in mood. "You think something's wrong?"
"Where is security? You would think they would be here by now"
If it were any more possible for Pierce to come alert, he did so. "Suggestion"
"Yes?"
"Did you set up a secret way out of here?"
"Yes"
"Then we use that secret exit and get out of here. Now"
I pointed back towards my bedroom. "Wardrobe with a false floor. It gets us into a service way"
Oriadin had finished, finally and he sat on the floor feeling rather sorry for himself for a few moments. He managed to gather enough energy to stand up and reach a nearby sink. He washed his face before placing his head underneath one of the taps and taking a few sips of the lovely cold water.
He stood upright and grabbed a towel hanging over the back of the door just behind him and gently dabbed it on his face. His head feeling a little sensitive still. He then stopped to think for a moment. Realising what had just happend he rushed out to where Helenias and Pierce were talking.
--Helenias!! Are you alright!? Im sorry, im not quite sure whats wrong with me, I just dont feel quite with it. Whats happend?--
He felt like he should make a quick dash to the toilet again as he spoke but he quickly dispersed that feeling with a swallow. He placed his hand on the hallway wall as he tried to concentrate with his thumping headache. Some impression he must have made on this Pierce character, he thought to himself.
Sejah was embarassed at how Xazor complimented him. All he could say in return was, "Then I think you might not have heard all of the stories Master Q'Dunn knows about me." He cut himself off with a sip of tea that had come with his breakfast.
"But thank you, Lady Dawnstrider, It will be an honor serving with you as well." He added, trying to be polite. "And as far as the Admiral goes, I will restrian you on one condition. That being that you musn't lose your cool. Sure, he's a jerk, but don't go wasting your energy on him."
C'mon, Goldilocks...we've got work to do.
(I was relying on a prissy interpretor droid to be my tour guide, which wasn't exactly my idea of how things should be.)
Find the comm jack. Lets make you useful.
Goldilocks? Why, I never! C-3PO tottered past Sanis and disappeared behind an empty frieght container that was bolted securely to the flooring. I don't even have hair. He stopped momentarily, swiveling orange optical receptors back to see if the human was following. He was.
Master, the comm jack is directly in front of me. Threepio raised a stiff arm and pointed at the bulkhead to a small control panel.
Red opened and closed her door a few times, but couldn't really slam it shut. No one seemed to notice anyway.
The little girl brushed her hair out of her eyes with her small fingers, and peeked out into the passageway. Rima was still talking in the cockpit, and she could almost hear the intercomm being used. She darted into the mess area to see if the blond man, Prent, was in there. He wasn't.
Red folded her arms in front of her and frowned in concentration. Where was he? She walked to the smallish compartment that led to the cargo hold, and swung the door open. She could hear talking. "Threepio?" Excited, Radish turned to make her way down the ladder.
"I suppose you're right Sejah."
Xazor laughed to herself and sat down to eat her breakfast. Marcus took his as well as Sejah and the three began to eat. She ate faster than they, for some reason, but had to if she planned on keeping the food for herself. Kaukauana was known to steal whole meals from tables and she wasn't about to let that happen.
"No, you leave that Admiral to me, Xazor. Sejah's right, he isn't worth your time and remember, you're pregnant. I don't want you to get hurt."
Marcus said in his father-like tone. Xazor rolled her eyes and continued eating. Before too long, she was finished and desposing of the plastic plates and utensils. The others were just finishing up as well and she went to retrive their plates as well.
"I say we go pay this Admiral a visit, nonetheless. You're either with me or I'm going by myself!"
With that the Knight left the room and made her way down the halls. Sejah and Marcus looked at one another and rose from their seats to follow her.
"Xazor! Don't do something stupid!"
Sejah said and she stopped. A smile crossed her lips and she turned around and looked at them.
"I'm a woman, it's not in my nature to be stupid!"
She laughed to herself and then set off with the two men. Her eyes went to Marcus for a moment and could hear his thoughts before he even said anything.
"Let me do the talking..."
Xazor put her hand upon her saber at his words for her form of talking was not diplomatic either and she knew that if the Admiral decided to be annoying or anything remotely close, the three would 'take care' of him. They wandered the halls for a few minutes before coming to the door of his quarters where the group stood still for a moment in the silence....
Tohmahawk abruptly turned to the other two.
"You two are to stand guard right here. And no arguments. I have some private business with this Admiral to take care of first - do NOT come inside for any reason" . The tone broked no argument nor discussion, he used an override code to open the Admiral's door efore marching inside and closign the steel bulkhead behind him without further comment. What Xazor and Sejah would think of that, who knew.
What the surprised Admiral thought, he could well sense on the man - surprise, fear, guilt. "What.. who allowed you to come in here?" Bodyline spluttered.
"As I said last night, this is my ship now, Admiral. I'll go where I please. Got a probelm with that?"
"This is not your ship!" yelled back Bodyline.
"It became my ship when I found out you were a traitor to the Republic!" snapped back Tohmahawk., deliberatly turning his back on the other man, pretending to look out the porthlole.
"WHAT! How dare you accuse me of such a perposterous thing!" spluttered Bodyline - but his sense was now filled with fear. Real, palitable fear of a man caught .
"I dare because they are true" stated the General, still with his back to the other. "I saw it on your mind as I was outside. I know why you dont liek aliens and Jedi - Aliens because your an Imperial and you dont like Jedi for they might read your mind. How unfortunante then for you..." he finally turned, his hand on his sabre on hip hip "... I am both. How long have you been selling NR secrets to Balmora, Admiral? How many have you betrayed?"
The Admiral gaped, realising he was caught. Almost predicatably, he tried for the blaster at his side - only to be shot first as Tohmahawk reacted much faster than a normal human could first, rail gun coming out of it's holster and blasting the torso of the traitor to gory bits. The lifeless remains slipped to the floor, blood began to drip as Tohmahawk passively put the gun away, glanicng around the apartment. He spotted a comm unit, wiped some of the blood splatter off it and keyed for the bridge.
"Janson. What can I do for you Admiral?"
Janson.... Communications officer. Tohmahawk remembered a thin young man, not long out of officer's school. "Janson, this is General Tohmahawk. The Admiral is no longer in charge here, I am. I want a cleanup crew to the former Admiral's quarters, I also want an Intel Crew here as well. It appears our good ex-Admiral was a traitor. Get to it"
The voice on the other end paused, no doubt surprised by whom it was speaking and his words. "Right away General! Oh and sir... I'm glad your back!"
"So am I" Tohmahawk replied, ebfore toggling off the unit. Outside the apartment, he could clearly feel the agitation of the Jedi Knight and Padawan.
Xazor, I'm okay. I only want cleanup crew and Intel to get past you. Stay outside while I poke around a bit more - seems our Admiral was a traitor
"--an then, before I could even ask him what went wrong, he fired me just like that! Can you believe it? I couldn't, and what's wouise is..." The droid trailed off as Terran's focus left it's chatter. He had asked the old, tin-looking droid about his job and other things, just for something to listen to on the way. The droid had such friendly dialect-programming, and he was close to sounding perfectly organic.
As they zipped through the skyways, the furious traffic around him whizzed by the hovercab. Different speeders, different beings, different lives and goals--all rolled into one busy skyway of stories untold. Their energies and spirits were pleasant, or mad, or upset. So many stimuli streamed into his brain.
"--remember that, the next time you need a cab. Don't use Ripper Travel!" The droid finished whatever he was saying as the taxi began to descend onto the street. "Here we are, Mista, Kar's Last Corral." The droid spoke as the taxi came to a stop. Terran stepped out from the seat in the back, also dragging his medium-sized suitcase with him. Across his shoulder, he wore is regular leather satchel which held his smaller gear.
"Thank you, for you safe passage and your...interesting conversation." Terran spoke as he handed the droid his payment. He took a quick glance around--it was late morning, and was approaching his meeting time. he was making excellent time.
"Of couise, Mista! Have a great day, and always fly Happy Cab!" He spoke enthusiastically as the cab's engines refired. Pulling away, the hovercab zipped back up to the skyway, heading to his next fare.
"Well...here it is." Terran muttered as he stared at the resteraunt in front of him. It was medium sized, not too much of a standout place. The kind that Marcus would choose, he imagined. It was a bit nicer than the the bottom-feeder pubs in the lower level of Coruscant, but it wasn't nice enough to draw attention. Heading inside, he opened the doors and took a quick look. Regular diner furniture and a seemingly regular group of dinees.
"Find a seat and I'll be right with ya, hun." It was a human waitress, which excited him. He liked interaction with real people, and it seemed everywhere he went, droids were more and more a sight.
"Thanks," he replied, finding a small booth in the corner. Marcus would have little trouble finding him. Sitting back, he examined the menu which was projected into the wall on a vid screen.
Arda
The system was so out of the Known Systems, it was hard to imagine any place being further outside the centre of the Galaxy. Hence, traffic and trade between the system and the Known Regions was no existant - to the point where only two had left the system totally - and only one known had even come from the outside. Some of the Second Born were known to travel in the space craft of Arnor to other places, but that was the limit of any communications physically between the Galaxy and Arda. For all the rest of the Galaxy knew, Arda did not exist.
But even if the Galaxy knew not of them, the Ardians knew plenty of the Galaxy. They were beings of lore and of learning, always questing for knowledge and wisdom. The dwellers of Imdralis tended to ignore technology, holding Nature and the Force, which they used for their Arts of Preservation and Completion. Most of the First Born had a degree of connection to The Force, some of them had indeed a powerful connection. While their Arts were not like the Jedi, they were still peaceful and great healers. Imdralis also was a achingly beautiful planet, filled with gardens and structures that looked almost grwon rather than built, the air was sweet and filled with music.
Three other planets were in the system, the one that they watched over the most was the one named Arnor, a fiercely hot planet with a gravity pull twice that of normal inhabited planets. The Numenorians who dwelt undergroud and in tents on the surface were a human like race. They had no connection to The Force, but they also were learned - they had, over the eons been civilised by the First Born and in their own way grown in knowledge and wisdom. But theirs was not the way of nature - they were technocrats. They invented and built, mined and constructed. Hence, they had a spaceworthy group of ships and technology to match, in some cases beyond the Galaxy in general. While few in number, their engineering feats were great and they had no government - living in harmony and peace with their own as well as the Lords of Imdralis.
But they were very much a sad people and they sang their sorrow of their losses while they worked, their mornful songs filling the caverns they lived and worked in. For their planet once had been green and lush too in millenia gone by, until The Black had come and made war. Since then, the Numenorians had lived on their runied home, hoping for the One who would come and restore their planet to right. But he never came and year upon year went, with hope fading Arnor could even be made right.
And on this night in Imdralis, in a tower above the forest, one man also pondered the fate of Arnor, but for different reasons. He was middle aged, dressed in great flwoing robes, reading the handwritten letter that had come from a Numenorian courier , a message from one of the two Ardians whom lived permantly out of the system. The other he knew of was a half-breed, a General of the self styled Republic that ruled most fo the Galaxy, blue skinned with one red eye. The one whom had written to him was his daughter, Helenias Evenstar.
Father,
I bring you greetings in the name of the Most High and I ask for your blessings once again.
For years I have been from hope and more I miss it daily. I hope one day to return so asI may walk barefoot on the grass and to allow the caresthat weigh me down to be lifted. Of those, I will tell you now.
Lately, I have joined the Jedi and I now also give service as a Senator. This has not been easy and some others in the Senate hate the thoguht of a Jedi being able to snoop on their schemes. This is not far from the case, i hear their thoughts and I know their greedy minds. I disgusts me so much evil is allowed and I will do what I can to thwart them. I have come under attack once, but I managed to defeat them. I know you see that I will be attacked again, but you also know I will be safe. Others I fear near me will not be.
Father, however this might sound, it is nothign to what I am to tell you and present to you. I know I married when I should not have, but I should tell you what I have found. He is a Numenorian and he feels the Force with a power like hardly even you can. As I once told you, he was a great evil, but he turned, to become a Jedi Master. Dare I say it, the greastest of all right now.
His daughter's words surprised him greatly. Force sensitivity was unheard of for a Numenorian! And in the power Lady Evenstar suggested? This would need investigation and also asking the Archive fo Arnor what his bloodline was. He returned to the letter, deciding to finish reading before he acted. He read the descriptions untl he nearly reached the end of the missive
[/i] ...... but of all I have said, this is the one I believe you need to know of and know of now. The exstance of this man was foretold by The Black and now I have the proof she did not lie. I stole this from him, so may examine for yourself the truth of this [/i]
Perendil looked at the package which had come with the letter, a frown creasing his forehead. Gntly he unlocked the package, seeing inside the pieces of an object shattered - but sitting on tp of that, an amulet. The sight of the amulet froze Perendil to the spot in sudden fear and it was nearly a minute before he could move or even speak.
"Jeeves! Summon the Elders! Now!"
--
The 22 men and women sat around the table, staring at the amulet that glittered as Perendil finished speaking. The pieces of the shattered object also lay on the table and they had been declared authentic.
"So... The Black spoke truly. This is an evil Perendil. The one whom this amulet came from, something must be done about him" stated an elderly female.
"But what? You heard of Lord Perendil's words and also of the words of the Lady Evenstar. What can we do? He can bring great evil and destroy us all!" snapped a younger male.
The room turned to a motley argument , while Perendil eventually got under control.
"Friends! Friends! This division will ont help us! You know the path we must take, the one appointed. I ask you, are you strong enough to take it?"
The younger male whom spoke earlier suddenly drew a wicked looking curved knife and slammed it into the table, his eyes looking defiantly into Perendil's. "We must"
"So be it. He must die"
The moment he heard the railgun fire, Sejah looked away.
"Dang it, Marcus. For being so powerful and supposedly so smart, you sure pick the worst ways to handle some things." he thought to himself, rubbing one temple in disbeleif.
His fears were confirmed as his master stepped out of the room with railgun in hand. He had needlessly killed a person. Whether or not he deserved it Sejah didn't know, but there were better forms of punishment than execution.
For a short while, Sejah stood around, waiting for some kind of instruction or anything to do, but nothing came. The smell of blood was thick on the recycled and air-freshened air around him, and his natural curiosity got the better of him. Stepping past Xazor, his pink eyes went wide momentarily at what he saw, then squeezed shut ans he spun on his heel to get away from it.
What had once been a man was a bloody splotch ont he floor and walls, and his stomach performed somersaults as he beat a path down the hallway, a paw over his mouth until he reached a restroom where he heaved up his breakfast into a toilet. Sejah had seen death before, even had a friend die in his arms, but nothing had ever been that gruesome. Nothing needed to ever be that gruesome.
Spitting out the last of the vile stomach acids in his mouth, the mongoose rinsed his mouth out with water from the sink, and then washed his face to help calm down. He had just lost face in front of Xazor for being unable to take the sight, and would probably lose more in his master's eyes once he heard about it. Leaning on the counter, he took a few deep breaths, then left the restroom to go back to what he presumed was his post. Were he not fearful of his master in such a temperment as his black suit apparently gave him, the Nehantite would have given him a good piece of his mind. But his Tohmahawk persona seemed to warp his sense of right and wrong. What he had just done was the act of a Sith, not a Jedi. To kill so inhumanely was not justice, it was murder.
Especially when Marcus could have simply removed his hand instead.
Alright, alright, just shut up and link in. See if you can locate the transponder code, and use our comm system to send a counter frequency to muffle it.
(Hearing a sound coming down the cargo bay ladder, I turned around.)
In the hallway, there was a loud crash, followed by a scream. "Who else is here?" Pierce asked, looking at his companions.
Both Helenias and Oriadin gave him blank looks. A loud curse filtered through the open doorway with a second scream accompanying it.
Oriadin's face struggled with recognition. "I think I've heard that scream before."
Helenias' eyes flickered between the Jedi Knight and the door. "Oriadin, did you have... company this morning?"
Horror replaced the puzzled familiarity. "Oh, no."
Pierce took a long, slow step over to the door, placing himself out of view from the hallway. "You two get into that secret passage now. No, I said, now." Pierce's rifle lifted as Helenias made a motion towards him. "Let me handle this."
Helenias nodded gravely. "Good luck," she said.
"No luck required." Another scream shrieked through the doorway. "Go!" Pierce mouthed. He leaned against the wall.
The two Jedi headed for the bedroom. They'd made it as far as the door when a roughly dressed human dragged a girl in, a wicked blaster pointed to her head. "Not so fast, Senator," he sneered. "You stay put, or I blow her brains out."
Pierce's face hardened. His rifle swung upwards and he fired a single shot into the assailant's skull, causing him to slump to the floor. "You don't have the right to do that," he told the dead man.
A muffled curse came from behind the doorway. Pierce rammed a shoulder into it, slamming it shut in spite of the presence of someone behind it. One of his hands slapped the lock switch and the mechanism clicked solidly into place just before there was another impact from the other side.
Pierce grabbed the half-dressed blond and shoved her towards the bedroom. Oriadin caught and steadied her with a sheepish look. "What's going on?" she asked.
"No time for that now," Pierce said. He pointed his rifle at the wardrobe, where Helenias was already busy with some controls just inside the door. A panel in the floor slid open, revealing a set of stairs. "I'm betting they have backup somewhere outside the building. Oriadin, you go first. Protect her and the Senator as best you can if it comes to that."
With a burp and a nod, Oriadin guided his female companion into the secret passage. When the two of them had disappeared, Pierce nodded, shifting his feet. "After you, Senator."
Behind him, the door tore off its hinges with a loud crash. The first intruder into the room was met with a solid side-kick to the groin. A cluster of men and aliens outside the room surged forward. Pierce fired a few quick shots into their midst, then dove inside the bedroom.
Helenias was using the doorframe of the wardrobe for partial cover and firing her blaster. "Go!" Pierce shouted from the floor. He rolled over to the wardrobe, lying on his stomach and aiming into the doorway.
The first intruder into the bedroom took a shot in the chest. So did the second. The third attacker into the room dove through the doorway. Pierce took his aim off the doorway and fired again, shooting his target dead. But knew then that the jig was up- there was no way he could turn his attention back to the doorway before someone else could get through it.
That meant the only option left was retreat. Pierce somersaulted through the wardrobe door, caught the upper edge of the wardrobe floor, and swung into the passage, bursting into a sprint as his feet hit the ground.
Evening.
The old crone was looking out the window of the highrise building, looking out over the city of the capital of Debrillion. She leaned on her cane, an apparently crippled old woman, bent and twisted with age, seeming ready to fall over at the slightest breeze. However, her eyes belayed that, brown, deep and powerful, plus highly aware. Her right hand gripped the cane and while she looked frail, she had much hidden power.
Power of the Dark Side. She was a practioner of the Sith Magics in the purest forms she could find them. And she she had found plenty in her years, her library was filled with ancient texts and scrolls telling of the race named The Sith and also of the Fallen Jedi whom had taken the hapless race and perverted it for their own. She had not come from any Master / Apprentice as Darth Bane had taught sso many years ago, she instead had discovered the power of the Dark Side many years before after she had been jilted by a Jedi of all people. She discovered the power she had destroying a room in a rage, seeing a vase floating before with her mind hurling it against a wall.
Fury, anger, hated. All delicious and had opened a whole new world to her. She researched and learned by herself, travelling to uncover more and more of what anger of her soul could do. Eventually the Jedi had died as she electrouted him, seeing him fry and curling into a black crisp. Oh, what a delight that had been to hear him scream and beg, before his witless brain boiled with the power of the Dark Side!
And so it was a century ago (for it was still true, she was an immensly old woman, approaching her third century), she had been on that hell hole of a planet and discovered that boy. A youngster, building sandcastles ina desert with his mind. She immediatly sensed the raw potential and somethign more - destiny.
And so it had proven. He had been foretold. The Darkness Keeper had predicted this was the one they were lookign for and thence he had to be trained. So, she had done so, spending 80 years perfectign the ultimate Dark Side warrior and adept. Oh for 8- years Master and Apprentice travelled, he learning all he could. Not a particularly good student she had to admit, he had also been deeply frustrating, self willed and easily distracted. But she had persisted until Darth Venom was ready.... and was unleashed as a final test.
He had failed. SHE had failed. The barstard joined the Jedi. The Dark Side had no real hold on his heart. Even married! Oh how she laughed when she removed that bitch from the worthless worm's life. But he had grown within the Jedi, becoming Darth Turbogeek, to the point he was a Jedi Master and on the Council. Callista had at that point decided to move and kill him, for she saw there was no hope of the worm turning again. They had fought. She had won, but he escaped - only for a few months later to be killed by a Bounty Hunter.
She shed no tears. She simply got on with her new apprentice.
But today, it was noticable to that same apprentice that the old woman was truly starting to show her age. She seemed tired, almost mortally so.
"My Lady?" the big lizard asked. "Is there somethign wrong?"
She didnt answer for a moment, but then she slowly turned to face away from the window and began to limp slowly away. "Borgg'ates, do you remember Venom?" she asked, her voice a thin whisper.
"The clone? Was he not.."
"No, not that useless faliure! My old apprentice!" she suddenly snarled.
"Yes, he died a few years ago" the alien replied.
"No, he did not. He revealed himself to me. We fought mentally. He defeated me" she stated. "He has grown stronger than I am."
The lizard took thins in quietly, before speakign again, unconciously stroking the regenerated arm he had lost to the same human years ago. "So, what is it we do now? He can threaten us if he is this powerful"
"Yes and he knows what we were planning. It is time we contacted The Black Hand and asked one named Hobgoblin for assistance"
I had already booted Oriadin and the blonde past me, down the stairs. I wasn't leaving without a few things - one was my Pike, the second my sabre and third something a damn sight better than this pop gun I was presently using. One semi auto Artec rifle / rail grenade launcher later, I decended the stairs. A few seconds later, the former Imp was following when I had a warning tingle. I reacted fast, turing on my heel and locking in a grenade into the launcher, pointing the gun straight at the flying Pierce. I trusted his reactions would be fast enough to duck as I used him as a blind - the first of the new assassins to enter the passage hardly had time to realise what was pointed in their direction.
The grenade barely missed Pierce, hitting the assassin in the chest, propelling him backwards with the force of the projectile's impact. A second later the explosive detonated. I didn't pause to see the result, I had another grenade loaded and I fired into the top of the wall, blowing the wall to pieces, bringing down part of the ceiling. Another explosion added to the debris, which would have the effect of giving us time to fly without worrying about anyone being too close.
"Down and to the left! There's a guard station commanded by a friend of mine about 200 meters past that - we'll be fairly safe there" I yelled, as I caught up with Oriadin and the blonde, hearing Tondry hot on my heels. "Now move it!"
Blonde didn't seem to keen on me, I had to admit. Mainly because I had decided she was moving too slow and I had grabbed her by the ear and was forcing her to move a great deal faster. I wasn't however in the mood right now to take a vote on the situation.
He truly hated evenings. And while there was such an important - nay personal job as getting that damn brat back, evening sucked even more. He hated being alone at night, for that was when the vocies in his head started. Not voices of a deranged madman, voices of a past he knew that wasn't his. A Jedi Master whom he was a clone of. Knowing what he was hadn't been the problem that could have been expected, it was trying to sort out the memories filed in his mind like a filing cabinet. Unfortunantly, those memories kept popping out in the evenings and he had spend nights reviewing sections of Turbogeek's life.
Admittedly, the memories came in useful. It taught him whatThe Force was and how to use it. Some things he couldn't do, which he put down to some sort of change between the original and him. Others... who knew. Memories were good, but your own experience was better. So anyway, he he was in a bar on Arcan IV, a good looking man with a trenchcoat on, drinking any old <smallfont color={hovercolor}>-Censored-</smallfont> that was served up. And gettinf more and more bitter by the moment.
Gee, what a great life I got here. What a waste of time.
Maybe that was it. He regarded the Jedi in his head a failure for not grabbing hold of the dark Side, maybe that blame was starting to shift to himself. He lifted a glass, sniffed the contents and barely paused as he swallowed the alcohol, the strength of with would put even Arya under the table. Or maybe it was the bullshit the Holo was blabbering on with in the corner, crapping on about Arcan's Senator. Turbogeek took a glance, then took another look.
Whoa. Since when were politicians built with great breasts? . Well, it wasn;t thos ememories in his head so he chose to keep looking, a slight smile on his lips. She was quite something to look at and he was disappointed when the news item finished.
"Not bad eh?"
The words startled DT a bit, looking around for the speaker until he realised it was the bartender himslef. "Sorry mate, but i just noticed you oogling. Not a bad bit of <smallfont color={hovercolor}>-Censored-</smallfont>, is she?"
"Hell yeah" DT responded. "What' her name?"
"Evenstar apparently. She's one them Jedi so I hear and a pretty dangerous sort for all her looks. Heard she shot the hell out of an assasination attempt that happened on the Senate's steps"
"Really? Not bad. She doesnt seem the sort that would go into politics" observed DT.
"Dont ask me - only seen she dont like them traders and commerce guilds much. Cant say I blame her". Withthat, the barman turned away, leavign DT in his musing. Not of Evenstar, but of the Senate, for he had another assassination going on of a Senator. Something pretty quiet. Poison. Good job worth a lot to him - he hoped the droid he rigged worked as he wanted.
--
Later that night, another bar. Getting nice and slozzled. He barely remarked as someone trod on his foot as they went past his stool. Who cared, he was buzzign and quite happ. It seemed the memories were not going to come tonight.
But why was that name Evenstar sticking in his mind? There was somethign oddly familiar about that name, he flet he should know. Ah whatever. He knocked back another drink and burped. Who cared. All he wanted was his kid back.
All hell seemed to break lose all at once. There was no time to think. Everything was done on reaction. Oriadin decided that he needed his lightsaber. He focused for a few seconds before comanding it to his hand through the use of the force. He ignited it before it reached his hand and caught it saftly. Without thinking, he swung the saber round to deflect a laser blast, aimed straight for the Knight as he focused on getting his saber. He managed it just in the nick of time.
Oriadin led Helenias and the blonde (Whos name still escaped him) down the stairs and towards the guard station. His head now thumping and his stomache ready to give way again at any time. He felt awful. "Never again" he said to himself.
After Helenias had fired a grenade and brought down part of the ceiling most of the assasins were trapped and would take a while to get out. That would buy them enough time to escape safely. However, there were enough of them that managed to get through to cause them problems. Pierce was running hell for leather but he was under fire. It was Helenias they wanted and so it was his duty to protect her for the time being.
--Keep the blonde with you and dont stop running. Im gonna give Pierce a helping hand!--
He shouted as he turned and ran back to help. It didnt take long for Oriadin to reach Pierce. He crouched down, saber in hand and deflecting the incoming laster blasts. Pierce meanwhile stood behind him and fired away at the attackers. Oriadin made sure he blocked in fire for the both of them, allowing Pierce to easily pick them off one at a time.
After the last one fell, Oriadin and pierce turned to run after Helenias and the blonde.
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