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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
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Friendly neighborhood CEO
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last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
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Jun 18, 2010 20:52:37 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jun 18, 2010 20:52:37 GMT -5
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People. That was the thing that stood out the most to Locke about the interior of the massive R. Delspoden Stadium. Row upon row upon row of the structure was packed, up to the top of the fourth deck that seemed so far away from him, down on the playing field as he was. The stadium was new: less than a year old, and supposedly named for Rezz Delspoden, chairman of some organization that'd been very well liked in this part of Druckenwell. It wasn't surprising that there were so many people here. How could there not be? Today, Supreme Chancellor would be giving a speech in that very stadium, as a rallying call to the people of the Republic. And so the field, which was normally used as a place for the ever-popular hoverball, had been converted into a suitable venue. There was a large platform in the middle of the field, flanked on either side by a number of security personal, in the ornate attire of the Chancellor's personal guard. Security was tight, to say the least. Though the speech may have been meant to be a rallying call and a show of resolve to the Sith, the Republic wasn't stupid. Here was the leader of the Republic, made available in front of just over one hundred thousand people. From a security standpoint, it was a nightmare. But collaborations had been made, and local law enforcements were working hand in hand with both the Republic and the contractor that provided regular security for the stadium. And then of course, there were the Jedi. Locke was present, along with a number of other Jedi, to make sure nothing happened to Chancellor Naaden. After all, losing another Supreme Chancellor so quickly after the last was killed would be absolutely devastating to morale, which was the last thing the Republic needed. For the time being, things were as calm as they could be; which is to say that there was a dull roar from the mass of people that left Locke with the feeling that he might need some headache medication before the night was through. For his part, he was off to the side of the field, near one of the team entrances. Naaden had yet to arrive, and final checks were being finished before she came out. All indications were that things would go well. If someone didn't know Locke was a Jedi, they might have been hard pressed to come to the conclusion that he was one. He'd been very much involved in working with the security personnel, and save the long coat he nearly always wore over his clothing, he was dressed just like one of them. His lightsaber was hidden away up his sleeve, and his pistol was just forward enough on his hip to be seen. He would work from behind the scenes tonight, provided nothing went horribly wrong. "We're almost ready," a voice behind him called. Locke turned to see one of the higher ups of stadium security approaching. He was a middle-aged man, portly and with greying hair. "I'm not sure how I feel about this, though." "What, about this speech?" Locke asked in return, turning to turn his focus back to the crowds. "About trotting the Chancellor out like this in front of all these people," said the guard. "It's begging for something to go wrong. And it's being broadcast to the Galaxy on the news. If there's a screw-up, everyone will know about it the moment it happens." "Well, if we can't bring her out in our own territory, what can we do?" Locke turned a questioning eye to his conversation partner. "People need to know that the Republic is still strong. Besides, from what I've heard of the Chancellor's personality, you probably couldn't stop her from making this speech if you tried, now that she's got her mind on it. Might as well get it done and make sure nothing goes wrong, eh?" "I suppose..." "Look," Locke continued, "we've got some of the best people working this. We'll be fine." He offered a smile, and for a moment, a bit of mirth sparkled in his eyes. "You shouldn't worry so much, y'know." The big man was silent for a long while before he sighed heavily. "I hope you're right, Jedi. I really do." <-| |->
"Here we are folks. We're coming to you live from Druckenwell's packed Delspoden Stadium, at the end of this monumental day of festivities and celebrations for the Republic. We are awaiting the arrival of Supreme Chancellor Naaden, who will be giving a highly-anticipated speech to the throngs of people that have gathered here tonight." This was Asir Vereek. He was a young Zeltron, and a reporter with a few years of experience after getting out of school. Tonight would be the biggest story he'd ever covered. He, along with his cameraman, was down on the sideline, in front of the podium that the Supreme Chancellor would soon occupy. "But before we get to that, we're going to go to one last commercial break, so stick tight, and we'll be right back, with Chancellor Naaden." His camera man, a Balosar gave him a nod indicating that they were off the air for the time being, and he let his posture fall a bit to a more relaxed post. "How did I look?" he asked, ever the Zeltron if there was one. The cameraman didn't say anything, and only rolled his eyes. "Come on, Torsh! This is the biggest event of my life; I can't look like some hobo in front of ev-" "You're fine, Asir," Torsh cut in with a wave of his hand. "You're fine." "Good." Asir turned, looking at the people, and then the starry night sky that was visible through the stadium's open top. A moment later, he looked at his chronometer and proceeded to straighten himself. The time was near. There were a few moments, as he waited for the signal that they were live again to come that he wondered if something interesting would happen tonight. Unforeseen circumstances were often bad, yes... But they made for great news stories.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
1,617 posts
86 likes
Rocking from the Great White North
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last online Apr 20, 2022 19:46:47 GMT -5
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Jun 18, 2010 21:57:18 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Jun 18, 2010 21:57:18 GMT -5
"If I never have to stand out in front of thousands of people again, I'll be a very happy man."
Jazen sighed as he leaned against one of the walls of the enclosed stadium center, eying the ever growing crowd with a wary stare. Species and cultures of every kind wandered about the stands, for an equal amount of reasons. Some were trying to find their seats, some were trying to steal better seats. Others mingled with the folks around them while a large group helped themselves to the refreshments being provided by wandering vendors. Some even argued with each other, fussing about some problem that Jazen was too far away to hear about. In fact, Jazen had been forced to retract his reach with the Force to keep from being overwhelmed by the flood of ever changing emotions from the crowd. He would have to fight against that urge when the speech started to help watch for threats but for now, he was quite happy to not have to feel what EVERYONE was feeling.
Drifting his eyes from the stands, Jazen turned his attention to the various personal wandering the grounds around him. Security was the easiest to spot, wearing uniforms and weapons that made them stand out amongst the grounds other occupants. Several contingents of senators also hobbled about the field, their bodies decked out in robes that served to represent their homeworld and make them look good. Add in the swarm of reporters that would be there to view and broadcast the event to the galaxy and you had quite the party. Despite the chaos of setting up the event, everything seemed to be going according to a plan Jazen obviously had not seen, and with relentless efficiency. And somewhere among those swarming masses, was the other Jedi who had been assigned this mission. His Master, Locke, along with another Master and Padawan pair Jazen had not met. One more Jedi Knight rounded out their numbers. And although not on the field at the time, a Jedi Master was suppose to be coming, their identify held in secret. This had been the first call made by the Jedi and only the Chancellor plus a select few knew which Master would be attending. Of course, Jazen hadn't been told who it was either, but he suspected Locke would tell him when he needed to know. Or when said Master made themselves appear. If anything did happen, whoever struck would be met with a surprise of their own.
Ignoring one of the reporters who tried to hassle him, Jazen started off in the direction of his Master. By Locke's suggestion, Jazen had made sure to add to his basic attire for the event. True, he did still wear the basic Jedi robes and Padawan attire. But he had dyed them black and underneath the robes he wore a simple but effective combat vest beneath. It wouldn't stop anything heavy, but it would deter any lesser blaster bolts for a few shots. Just in case something did happen, Jazen at least had a few continues before he would be dropped like a rock. His lightsaber, clipped to his belt but hidden by fake pouch, bounced lightly as he walked. The item in his left pocket bounced with a little more attitude, prompting Jazen to grip it with the Force and mutter something poor about it.
Despite sealing himself off from most of the world around him, Jazen could still feel his Master without thrashing out with the Force. The Master/student connection they had was a pain at times, but it was also a great asset. No matter how shut off he tried to make himself, Locke could always feel him and him Locke. In a place as hectic and crowded as this, that kind of ability was a godsend. Gently pushing his way past grumbling senators and ever vigilant guards, Jazen finally found the body to match the Force signature of his Master. He was near one of the few entrances to the grounds, conversing with one of the upper security members. Jazen struggled for a few more minutes to slip his way through the crowd, then calmly approached his Master's side, bowing his head slightly to the man. He then turned his attention to Locke, fumbling for the item in his pocket as he spoke.
"Next time, remind me to watch this kind of event from the Temple instead. Less of a headache to deal with when there's not a thousand different voices screaming in your head.
Jazen then produced the item from his pocket and presented it to Locke. It was a blaster pistol, one of very high quality from its shine and design. After all the events that Jazen had suffered, he had expected Locke to try and shrug him off to another before his head exploded. Instead, Locke had stood by him each step of the way, helping him as best he could while giving him enough space to figure out things himself. It had amazed Jazen and while talking with a gambler on Coruscant, decided that he should do something to repay him for that stubbornness. He knew Locke carried a blaster with him along with his lightsaber and after taking a look at it, Jazen had found it to be a slightly older model. Using the credits he had earned from..."playing" drunk smugglers at bars, Jazen had purchased the pistol from the best shop he could reach without getting into trouble.
"On another note, I have something for you Master. I know your blaster is kind of aging, so I went and got you a better one. You don't have to thank me or anything and if you threw it away, it wouldn't bother me either. It's just a way of showing how much I appreciate you sticking around when others might have just thrown my troubling behind to the wind. Apparently, I'm taking more after you then I thought, or so I've been told."
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
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Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Jun 18, 2010 23:38:13 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jun 18, 2010 23:38:13 GMT -5
Adara couldn't help but smile slightly as she watched the stage with an almost predatory gaze. It was the same gaze that a bha'lir would have as she stalked her prey, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Or a pack of Vornskrs as they hungrily watched whatever they took as prey on their world. The soft flesh of her palm gently pressed against the unyielding phrik plating of her staff as she stood in center of the excited and boisterous throng, part of her face barely pulled off to the side in the form of a light smirk.
The Epicanthix woman's icy blue eyes then came to rest on the Jedi Knight, and a quiver of excitement rushed up her spine. That quiver caused gooseflesh to appear on her arms, and the hairs on the back of her neck to stand. She'd never seen a Jedi before, and now that she did... she couldn't say that she was impressed. Where was the proud demeanor? Where was the stoicism? The personality-less, humor-less, emotionless shell? No, she wasn't impressed... but rather disappointed.
But, this could prove to be rather exciting... and it gave she and her compatriots a chance to kill one of the galaxy's protectors. It wasn't that she hated the creatures, oh no, she loved them. They gave hope for those who couldn't defend themselves. Hope that she could take away by killing one, or better yet... four. After all, what good was a galaxy without a little hope? The answer: dull.
Briefly, the huntress' mind was sent back to her entrance into the stadium. There had been tough security, yes, but it wasn't anything that she couldn't handle. The Jedi mind trick wasn't only for Jedi. All that it took was a hand wave turned shoulder scratch and a simple clandestine order, and the men waved her around the weapons detectors and pat downs. Which was why she was allowed her staff, which held a brilliant blue lightsaber at the end pointing towards the heavens.
That icy blue view shifted to a man donned in a jet black suit and opaque black sunglasses who was standing on the walkway at the front of the bleachers not too far away. He stood up straight and tall, hands folded infront of him and legs spread out about a shoulder length. Though it was nigh impossible to tell from where she was, she could sense his gaze upon her. In response, she offered a warm smile and a little wave with her off hand, coupling the actions with a carefully mouthed "thank you."
She sensed his gaze shift from her onto something else. Thank the Force.
Her signature in the Force was strangled under her iron will, kept wrapped tight around her like a cloak so the Jedi couldn't sense her presence. It allowed her to move considerably closer than she should've been able to move, though being amongst such a great gathering of life would make it hard to detect her party anyways. Slowly, she edged towards the front of the crowd... though was careful to only move halfway to the stage. Getting too close too soon could gather attention: Jedi attention.
Trying to sense her concealed aura would be like trying to hear a whisper across the room over a loud conversation. Nigh impossible. The same went for Novus, and hopefully Zarene and Grawn. In truth, the Sith didn't seem to have much of a plan... which could turn out to be the death of them. Or, at the least, an escaped chancellor.
Zarene would shoot the woman with a sniper rifle. It wouldn't take that much skill to put the bullet where it was supposed to go, but there were Jedi here. The Force whispered to them much like it did to her, and if one was smart and careful enough to be able to hear the whisperings... no amount of skill would matter. Which was why Darth Novus, Grawn, and she was there... backup. If Zarene failed, then the three would storm the Chancellor and strike her down.
A wild smirk creased her lips as her eyes scanned through each of the Jedi. Part of her wanted Zarene to fail. Part of her wanted the Jedi to block the shot. No small part of her wanted to take away one of the beings that brought hope and protection to the galaxy. It just wouldn't be right to see a Jedi for the first time and not fight and kill them, after all.
Once more, her vision swept over the stage... then over to a Zeltron news reporter standing in front of the camera, conversing with his balosaran co worker. This event was televised, presumably live. Perfect. Every single being in the Republic would see their great and stalwart leader be cast down, slain before their very eyes. Hopefully by her hand. Or, they would witness the heroic Jedi defend Chancellor with their lives to give her an opportunity to escape, and succeed.
By the next day, they would've either broken the back of the Republic... or strengthened it immeasurably. Morale was a powerful thing. It determined the outcome of battles. Neg. Wars. So the woman stood in contemplative silence, watching but not watching, doubting the intellect of striking at the Republic in such a bold manner.
But one, tantalizing question pervaded her mind...
Which would come to pass? Would the back, the very will of the Republic, be broken under the strain of having two great leaders assassinated within a span of six months, or would it be strengthened immeasurably by she and her party's failure?
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Sporky
From face-hugging alarm clocks to flying battlemowers, is it any wonder people are afraid of technology?
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last online Aug 11, 2017 16:12:53 GMT -5
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Jun 19, 2010 1:16:41 GMT -5
Post by Sporky on Jun 19, 2010 1:16:41 GMT -5
It's always a good idea to show support for the faction you're supplying weapons to.
Grigor Sark, a businessman of some note, as the founder and CEO of a major supplier of weapons to the Republic military, understood this. To that end, Sark Industries was funding its own broadcast of the event, providing hovering camera droids which broadcasted to a Sark ship in low orbit over Druckenwell, which then broadcasted throughout the galaxy. Sark had also supplied half a dozen guards, rach outfitted with a lighter version of the MWLF armor manufactured by Sark, two M12 assault pistols, and a brand new model of medium blaster rifle designed with a larger clip than most.
Then, there was Chopan. Chopan Norita. Tall, muscular, and with an air of 'been there, done that' about him, he stood out among the guards. But his looks and stance weren't the only thing about him that made him stand out. Crisp, white armor adorned his body, under the long, dark leather coat made of Zakkeg skin. The armor was standard MWLF. The coat was his own, a trophy of his younger days when he and a small merc group had felled a captive Zakkeg held by a Dxun crime lord. Chopan had been personally sent by Grigor Sark, who had assured the guards that Chopan was the best he could think of.
In Chopan's hands was a heavy blaster rifle, the same crisp white as his armor, but of a model not known to be in the Sark Industries catalogue. In reality, it was a modified NGN blaster rifle, manufactured by Redfac Weapons. It'd been repainted, the barrel had been lengthened an extra 3 mm, and the power cell had been expanded to allow 80 shots as opposed to the standard 70.
To Chopan, this was a publicity stunt. And publicity stunts had a high chance of going horribly wrong. The Sith Empire could attempt a suicide bombing run on the stadium. The Mandalorians could send in a small strike team to take out the chancellor. Guerillas could overtake an aircraft and crash it into the stadium. Any number of things could screw this up.
Oh well. At least this would be interesting.
(I ran this post by Silas via Skype. He gave it the go ahead. Shoot him a few times before me. D: )
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Silas
Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken
742 posts
10 likes
Lord of the Morning, I have come for you!
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last online Jun 24, 2023 23:32:54 GMT -5
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Jun 19, 2010 1:54:50 GMT -5
Post by Silas on Jun 19, 2010 1:54:50 GMT -5
Black eyes roved over those people. So many of them. So many people. So much chaos. For a second Mordin shook his head as he tried to sort through all the feelings which threatened to overwhelm him at any second. This scene, all of it was something he knew must be, but there was a part of him which couldn’t help but hate every thing it was. The war, those people in all their confusion, and the light pike which he held as a warning to all these people. They would look upon him, they would know he was a Jedi, and it was all part of a elaborate game to invoke fear into those who might do something stupid. Perhaps there was purpose in it, but that didn’t make him like it anymore, it didn‘t make him want to scream any less, and it wouldn‘t stop those who they were most scared of. This was all a horrible game, one which they couldn’t afford to lose, and at this current point when all is so vital it seemed as if they were.
With a sigh he turned around, the people behind him lost in thought. Their presence teased at him in the force, the tugged on his mind as he walked towards the dais wherein the Chancellor would give her speech from. From a distance he could see the other Padawan, the master who had brought him, and a few other things going on. Mordin gritted his teeth as he saw the media here, he wasn’t fond of their influence amongst the people. In a second everything is changed by one new report which could be totally inaccurate, or one statement which is from the ‘most reliable source’. Not all of them were corrupt, but they weren’t out to tell a story, they were out to sell one, and people won’t buy something cheap.
”Hey Jedi,” A voice yelled from behind him, and quietly he turned around to see who it was. From behind there was a republic official who had been brought along, and while he looked young there was no fear on his face. Mordin wondered for a second if he should be as the man stated, ”I was told by one of the Jedi to ask you to back over towards some of the others.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d been addressed by some of the troops, and some with less reason than this man had. With a look backwards he nodded towards the man as he said, ”Of course, I must have wondered a bit, excuse me Colonel.”
While he had looked young at the beginning the man didn’t seem to be quite so young as his appearance seemed to state, for the rank which he obtained was more significant than he thought a younger person might be able to gain. With the feel of the metallic grip of his lightsaber under his fingers he used it like a staff as he walked away from the officer, as he moved off to go do some other menial task in preperation for this. Away from the crowd Mordin walked as a slight smile crossed his lips as his eyes lay upon the dais which the Chancellor would give her speech from. Despite her quite unexpected, and uncalled for entrance into the office, she had actually proven herself to be quite the Chancellor. Even if he disliked this war he knew it was the only way. It was the only path to a greater good, and he knew why the Jedi had to enter it; it was their job. So this woman gave him hope, not the kind of hope a kid gets when he sees a colourfully wrapped box on his birthday, but the kind of hope a man sentenced to death might get if the noose broke on his way to the ground.
Part of him wanted to say something might go wrong, but that part of him, that sliver inside of him was just the protective instinct inside of him, and he knew it. All of the easy parts were done, the plans had been made, the crowd had been gathered, the lights were set, and now came the play. When all of this could unravel, and the fate of a galaxy could be torn asunder. Mordin would make sure that didn’t happen.
On his way behind the dais he saw two other Jedi who were here; Locke and his Padawan, Jazen. Before this he’d not really known much of this pair, but he’d at least learned their names on the away over here, and a few brief discussions with the two of them. They seemed like a normal pair, Master and Apprentice. A pang of sorrow washed over the Aquitan as he remembered his master, and for a second he could feel the general presence of her somewhere far away. It was muffled, as if it was just on the other side of some impenetrable wall. With what strength he could muster he pushed that bit of his master which he could sense out of his mind. A shiver passed down his body for a second, but he simply pulled a little harder on his dark robe before he took to standing a little ways away from the other pair of Jedi.
Coolly he looked across once more as the force prodded against the thousands of people in the stands, the politicians from this planet looking to further their own campaign, the news reporters, and the everyday people. Hopefully the Chancellor would begin her speech soon, and finish this so that he could be done with this guessing game, he did not like waiting. Anticipation gnawed at him as he stood there, light pike in hand, and his smile dropped for a cold, almost stoic look upon his face
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Kuhblam
I've got two guns, one for each of ya'.
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last online Sept 7, 2013 15:30:01 GMT -5
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Jun 19, 2010 8:17:02 GMT -5
Post by Kuhblam on Jun 19, 2010 8:17:02 GMT -5
Chaotic, crowded, and filled with potential assailants. My favorite place to be. The mind of Jedi Knight Ryke Torus was one of sheer annoyance and confusion. His thoughts were juggled between two possible scenarios; one, that everything went as planned and the Chancellor came out of the stadium with her head still attached, and two, that Sith or some other enemy party infiltrated the stadium and attempted to assassinate the Chancellor with success. His mind was yearning for option one, but Ryke was no idealist. The cool, collective teachings of the Jedi had taught him as such that everything was hardly as it seemed most of the time. He was almost half-expecting himself to draw his light-saber not four seconds after the security detail arrived on stage.
The chaos of the stadium surrounded his gaze everywhere he looked, and in a vain effort to prevent any more worrying than was already necessary, he stopped looking for abnormal concentrations of the force where no Jedi were present; his trust in Locke's security program was growing, if ever so slowly. However, he could not help but feel some spots of emptiness in areas where throngs of Republic civilians were located, as if there was a "bald spot" on the hypothetical "hair" of the stadium's bleachers. What worried Ryke even more was that the stadium was packed to the brim; there would be no empty seats or vacant positions from which to watch what would be the culmination in a grand day of celebrations for the Republic. The day had gone well so far, but Ryke hardly expected it to end the way it had started.
His silent gaze moved across the open part of stadium, his eye catching a young Zeltron news reporter with said camera-man ready to film and report on the Chancellor's speech as it went live. An unusual feeling of being paranoid told him that the Zeltron was harboring a blaster inside the camera his accomplice was holding, but Ryke knew better than to act on such petty guesses and assumptions which lesser beings might be worried about. No, any threats would come from a ranged assailant or up close and personal; some random Zeltron would be the least of his worries after he appeared on the stage with the entire galaxy and thousands of civilians having a full view of him, the visible security detail, and most importantly the Chancellor herself.
"You think everything's gonna be fine? Your a Jedi, right? You can sense this stuff." Ryke turned his attention towards a nervous young Republic soldier who came to stand beside him, his military cap off as he ran a gloved hand through his dark brown hair. Identifying his rank patch, Ryke could sense an uneasiness in the soldier not unlike his own feelings that he was still trying to control. The internal pressure to make sure everything went as planned was something he could not control; neither could the soldier. "Truthfully, I do not know, Corporal. There are limitations to my powers, and there are those who can conceal themselves from me with effort and their own use of the force." Ryke was not happy with his answer to the young man, but he would not lie to him and bring his guard down in case of an emergency. It was apparent that the soldier was not happy with his answer either. "All I know is that the I've got fifty shots before I have to reload. Guess that's all the reassurance I'll have when we go on stage." Trying to remain slightly sarcastic and humorous, the soldier threw his rifle sling over his shoulder before moving to find a different person to talk, arguably one who was more confident in the situation.
Making sure that his robes concealed both his armor and light-saber, Ryke made no other effort to conceal his being a Jedi, which was fairly obvious due to the brown robes and silent aura that emanated from his persona. Security personnel gave him staring looks as they walked by, curious to learn about the quiet figure who was to them a magic wizard with a contained laser beam. Ryke was not surprised, to say the least. Several of these soldiers were new recruits who had never seen the one force keeping them from being completely overrun by the Sith. It comforted Ryke to know that a fourth of the security detail was completely green. What a great asset to the defense of the Chancellor. Maybe it'll deter the Sith from attacking when they learn that boys right out of school are defending the leader of the free galaxy.
His eyes turned to the Chancellor once more, who never left his sight for more than several seconds even though she was not always aware of his presence. Her weathered face and ornate robes signified her status in the Republic's upper echelons. She was an old woman, but her leadership skills and ferocity were admirable traits that contributed to her continued popularity. The Chancellor was aged in appearance, but there was something about her that screamed defiance to the Sith Empire. Ryke sincerely hoped that she would continue to be a source of morale and support for the Republic and that everything went as planned.
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last online Nov 27, 2015 16:20:28 GMT -5
Youngling
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Jun 19, 2010 17:41:48 GMT -5
Post by kagemusha on Jun 19, 2010 17:41:48 GMT -5
Under his late master, Ta'lin had spent very little time in the presence of more than a few people at a time, but in the years since the death of Jan Carrel, he'd been far more involved in the work that the Jedi Order did on the civilised worlds of the core and mid-rim. It was possible to feel crowded on some worlds, with the competing thoughts and feelings of thousands upon thousands of beings buzzing on the peripheries of one’s consciousness, but nothing could have prepared the young Jedi for the experience that his senses were being subjected to now. A stadium packed to the very rafters was an assault on the mind of a jedi, unlike almost any other, making it difficult to find the source of his deep-set unease at being there. He was beginning to question now whether the weight in his gut was the result of a disturbance in the force as he had first surmised or just the affect of being bombarded by the seething mass of people that filled the place and who could blame him? Even limited in what he could sense by the background noise of the crowd’s presence in the force, Ta’lin could sense the unease in the other members of the Jedi attachment to the Chancellor’s security detail, particularly in the one called Ryke Torus. Across the short distance between them, Ta’lin could almost feel the anxiety building in his fellow Jedi like bolts of lightning crackling through the swirling storm clouds of the crowd and it only served to intensify his own misgivings about their assignment. After all, what more encouragement to strike would a concealed Sith warrior need than to reach out through the force and feel the apprehension of the much vaunted defenders of the republic? No, they had to stay calm and controlled, that was the Jedi way and the only way that the Chancellor would leave Druckenwell unscathed in the event that the slight nausea that Ta’lin felt was more than just his unfamiliarity with being in a tightly packed stadium.
“I wish they’d just get on with it already. I’ve been here for hours waiting to see her.” said one of the many people that made up the crowd in Ta’lin’s vicinity. “It’s gotta be soon. I’m sure I saw the Chancellor over by the tunnel with a couple of Jedi, but I can‘t see anything now.” another replied, presumably a friend of the first. ”Hey buddy, can you see anything?
Ta’lin didn’t often look the part of the traditional Jedi knight: commonly he wore a charcoal-grey, sleeveless vest made of a toughened synthetic material, which offered greater durability than normal Jedi robes without hampering normal movement, and trousers of a similar, though slightly heavier composition. Normally a viridian-green sash would have looped around his waist in trubute to his connection with Corellia and also concealing the utility belt worn by many of his fellow Jedi. His saber would generally be kept in a harness on his back to avoid letting it rattle around as he moved. On this occasion, he had dropped the sash and teamed the rest of the outfit with a non-descript cotton tunic under the vest, with his weapon hidden up his sleeve. Others could reassure the crowd that the Chancellor was safe for the time being, while Ta’lin - looking for all intents and purposes like any other spacer - mingled with the crowd and watched for trouble. When the time came he’d rejoin the Jedi party to escort the Chancellor to the stage.
“No. No, I can‘t see anything either.” Ta’lin replied over the drone of the crowd. “I‘ll see if I can get a better look.”
He pushed on again through the throng, away from the two who had spoken to him. It didn’t do to be noticed before the party was due to start and before he could take one last sweep of the crowd, near the entrance to the tunnel from which the leader of the Republic would soon emerge.
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last online Apr 8, 2020 19:14:54 GMT -5
Guardian
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Jun 19, 2010 23:50:40 GMT -5
Post by Grawn on Jun 19, 2010 23:50:40 GMT -5
"I'm on the hunt, I'm on the prowl" a voice whispered in his mind as he stood in the throng of the gathered crowd. So many people of every race and creed. All here to see one thing. The one thing that was a fire of hope in a darkening galaxy.
A fire that would be snuffed. Permanently.
His presence was stifled by his power, hiding it from unwanted viewers. He didn't wear his mask, it would only draw attention, thus he watched with yellow eyes. Yellow eyes that no one could see, for they were blue to anyone that couldn't see past the simple facade. The rest of him was simple enough. His hood was drawn back, his cloak brought around him to conceal his lightsabers. The dark brown made him look like a Jedi, which made people disregard him even more. His cybernetic hand was covered with a glove to keep further attention away.
"I can almost taste you now" the voice continued and his eyes went down to a black hound looking up at his with blazing red eyes. The man's eyes looked over the dog, who looked back at him without pause. It didn't actually exist, this hound. It was merely a illusion unseen to all but the strongest of Force users and Grawn Ianie alone.
"Take her life now. She is nothing to us."
He ignored the statement, but realized the voice came from Sampson, the Sith's eyes narrowing in annoyance. "She is nothing to ME. Do well to know your place."
The hound chuckled, looking back to the Supreme Chancellor.
"Think of the chaos that will unfold. The Republic won't be able to recover from such a blow, its delicious. Her family will mourn as will the entire galaxy that considers her government their guardians."
Grawn only nodded silently as his gaze returned to the Supreme Chancellor. Of course, he wasn't foolish enough to come alone. Oh no, that would be almost suicide. While he could not sense them, his companions were here and they had the same goal as he. A goal given to them by the Overlord. Since it was given to them by Iniquitous himself, failure wasn't an option and Grawn would do what it took to see the goal completed.
"Return to your home, Sampson. You will be called on when the fun starts"
"Try not to fail this time, Ianie"
Before his eyes could blaze with anger at his pets words, the hound faded and left Grawn to wrangle in his emotions. No, there was no failure this time. The Overlord had made sure of this.
To make sure things went smoothly, a Sith Lady had been sent as the leader of the group. Along with Dark Lady Novus, Zarene Yin and Adara had been chosen. Two Masters and two Knights, the mission would go most likely as planned. Zarene was a skilled marksmen and would be using a rifle to attempt to pick the Chancellor off from afar. It would be a great disappoint if this succeeded, but if it didn't the rest of the group would hunt the woman down and end her.
Running his left hand through his shaggy hair, letting out a breath of impatience. He knew Jedi were here. It didn't take a Force user to sense nor guess their presence at such a important event. While the security had been unable to detect him as he stealthed in unharassed, the Jedi were the real threat. This is why he had to keep his power contained, so they couldn't ruin the fun to soon.
He did love to kill Jedi. Every aspect of it sent his soul ablaze and a grin nearly spread across his face, only to appear as a small smirk on his face. Grawn kept his thoughts shielded and unreadable as he reassumed his emotionless vigil. The sign would be given and they would strike. Today would be marked as a tragedy, to have a second Supreme Chancellor slain in quick succession.
His lightsabers thrist. As did the beast within him.
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sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
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last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
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Jun 20, 2010 6:17:16 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Jun 20, 2010 6:17:16 GMT -5
"So what makes you think you should be selected for this mission, Zarene?"
"I've had some time to think this through. It's quite simple. If this mission is going to have any decent chance of succeeding, you need me there."
"Oh? Do tell."
"Stadium... Chancellor in the middle. She'll be surrounded by her own personal security. Jedi will be there too. There'll likely be plainclothes security scattered within the crowd as well. Checkpoints outside the stadium. Air traffic likely restricted. No tall buildings in immediate vicinity. Nearest ones several blocks away..."
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The Svanhildr office building was one of the taller structures in this area of the city. On a normal day the place would be bustling with activity, but there was no work today, and anyone who could get to the stadium was there, eager to hear what the chancellor would say. Like many of its neighboring buildings, a detachment of guards were stationed at each entrance, with guards patrolling each floor. City and planet officials were very intent on making sure that the chancellor's speech would go without a hitch.
The streets were filled with people and traffic making their way to the stadium to attend the big event. Excitement and anticipation were in the air, and no one payed attention to the young woman with wide-brimmed veiled hat and lavender dress who quietly broke away from the crowd and into a shadowy alleyway.
Nobody guarded the alleyway. Why would they? It was a dead end. One could walk in, but then they'd just have to walk right back out again. There was a security camera making a slow sweep of the area, but at the moment it faced away, and would for the next ten seconds.
Three stories up, a window was open. Just a crack, barely visible.
The woman quickly adjusted the bag on her back. She quickly leaped off the ground, kicked off the opposite wall, grabbing the bottom of the windowsill. Releasing her left hand just long enough the pry the window open, she pushed herself up and into the building, and closed the window behind her.
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"Judging from the layout of the place, there are two possible avenues of attack. Near and far. For near, we can place agents within the stadium. But if we wish to remain undetected and preserve the element of surprise, their numbers will be limited. Each additional person you try to add will only increase the additional chance of everyone's cover being blown. We'll strike, but unless we take down the chancellor immediately, and the presence of Jedi makes that unlikely, they'll be surrounded in hostile territory and vastly outnumbered. Not a pretty picture."
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Zarene Yin removed her hat and dress, revealing a suit of dark gray Echani-crafted light armor underneath. After stuffing the now useless garments into a nearby closet, she pressed an ear to the door of the office.
The guards were heaviest outside, but through a few Exchange contacts, and the right about of credits placed in the right purse, she been able to bypass that. There were still guards patrolling the hallways of each of the fifty floors though. She wouldn't be getting any help for those.
The footsteps told her what she needed to know. Two guards on the floor, with one passing her door every thirty seconds. According to the schematics, the stairwell would be down the hall and around the corner. The elevator was closer, but the elevator suddenly traveling from the bottom to the top of the building was sure to cause suspicion.
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"Guards will be covering all the good sniping spots. Any shooter who manages to elude them is going to have time for one shot before being discovered and swarmed. Normally one shot would be enough, but with the Jedi protecting the chancellor, I wouldn't count on that. But what the shot will do is draw off a large portion of the stadium's security, and once that happens, a team within the stadium can take advantage of the chaos and strike. They'll have the numbers and power to smash us if we attack on one front, but if we attack from two directions, they will be forced to split their larger force to meet each threat, one side might make it through."
"I'm sure that if you went to the Sith military, they'd have a few snipers who are better shots than I am. I'm sure that in this Temple there are those who are stealthier than I, and those who are better in a straight-up fight. But I guarantee you that nobody else on our side can sneak in there, deliver the bullet and fight their way back out again. That's why you need me on this mission."
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Three... Two... One.... The footsteps faded, and her hand pressed down on the door handle, slipping out and closing the door gently behind her. Taking one step and then another, she moved in sync with the footsteps of the guards, making her way to the stairwell and slipping inside.
She looked upwards, at the zigzag pattern of the stairs, leading straight to the top. There would be more patrols in the stairwell, and on the roof. She'd have to avoid the guards while finding the perfect vantage point, shoot without being detected, and then fight her way through the fifty stories back down. Zarene sighed, placing a hand on the handle of one of the two blasters that hung at her hip. One hurdle crossed, many more to go.
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
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Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Jul 5, 2010 1:11:41 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jul 5, 2010 1:11:41 GMT -5
Supreme Chancellor.
Part of Naaden wished it was only a title, nothing more. Part of her wanted to believe that she was still just 'Asp', nothing more. Part of Naaden always would.
But the rest of her embraced the fact that the title meant so much more -- it meant responsibility. The Republic was a democracy through-and-through. She was no all-powerful dictator. But, in the eyes of the people of the Galaxy, Naaden was singularly responsible for everything that went right or wrong in the Galaxy. As such, for the good of the people of the Galaxy, she had to make sure enough things went right.
There was one force, though, one power that superceeded any political position. Morale. It was a secret among the higher politicians, this power that could be weilded with so much influence. Morale won wars. Morale lost wars. Morale made a nation invincible; morale could destroy a nation utterly.
And Morale was the reason Chancellor Naaden was here on Druckenwell. The crowd had a unique psychology; it behaved more as a single entity, than a group of individuals. Engage the emotions of a key percentage of a crowd, and the whole creature can become yours.
Victoria could hear the crowd above her. It murmured and growled and screamed. It was easy, so easy to consider the crowd as a simple creature. It was easy, so easy, to view the Galaxy as nothing more than a pet to care for, or an item to manage.
But that is not what makes a great leader. A great leader respects all as equals. A great leader genuinely cares for their constituents, and that is what allows them to make the tough decisions. Today, Victoria wasn't making a speech to Drunkenwell, nor was she making a speech to the Galaxy, which would surely be watching.
Today, she was speaking to Marie Belleview, a ten-year-old girl with whom Victoria had spent a few hours upon her arrival on Drunkenwell. Marie was the daughter of a space-port janitor, as average a citizen as could be. But it was for people like this, the innocent and straight-forward, the unremarkable and mundane, that Victoria had entered politics. They deserved to live in that unremarkable and mundane, not war. Marie Belleview deserved hope. Great leaders traded the cold calculation of mob psychology, and dedicated themselves to the individual.
Victoria Aspen strove to be a great leader.
That didn't still the churning in her gut. Many people assumed that that over two decades in politics would make public speaking second-nature, but the truth was, getting up in front of people never got any easier. She was beneath the floor of the stadium in the greenroom, a sterile, industrial place the public was never meant to see. The sound echoed oddly here, reminding Naaden of just how many people awaited her. Her palms were damp with sweat, and she could feel her accelerated heartrate. It was a familiar yet terrifying sensation.
She was surrounded, here and as always, by her personal guards. Not only did she know them each on a professional level, but she knew them each on a personal level. On the one hand, it helped her to ensure they were all trustworthy. On the other, Naaden spent an exceeding amount of time with them, it made sense to get to know them. Jones, for instance, was particularly steadfast. His wife was eight months pregnant, and Naaden knew for a fact that she was going to have to nearly fire the man to get him to take leave. It was on these things that Naaden focused her mind as the hour approached.
The Security Detail mulled around her. This personal guard was made up of some of the Republic's most capable soldiers and agents. Beyond the greenroom, a second teir of defense was already assuring that the crowd gathered at the stadium without incident, and beyond that was the stadium staff itself.
And then there were the Jedi. The Galaxy's protectors, through that ethereal stuff the Force. They were as crucial politically as they were practically. The Jedi were already scattered throughout the stadium. Naaden didn't kid herself; she knew more than a few people wanted her dead. As a senator, she never would have accepted security of this level. If she died because of her job, she died because of her job, and that was that.
But, as Chancellor, she herself represented that elusive power, morale. Victoria Aspen Naaden would have gladly given her life for the Republic. But the Supreme Chancellor's life was the Republic. Every Chancellor death represented severe turmoil for the Republic. Only months ago Naaden's predecessor had been assassinated; the Republic was in a fragile state. With its predators lurking so close, the Republic could not afford another disaster. And so, Naaden had taken Jedi Vreem Took's advice with somber judgement. She had agreed to and ensured a measure of Jedi protection. In some way, this meant fate itself was protecting her. However, there were also the rumors of an increasing number of fallen Jedi aligned with the Sith. That itself was a grave, grave thought.
But it was one that needed to be set aside, at least for the moment. It was time.
-----------=-----------
The Supreme Chancellor stepped into the light. She stood on an island in the midst of a sea of faces and flaring camera flash-bulbs. Three steps. Left foot, right foot. Left, right. Victoria placed both hands on the Podium, steadying herself. To the crowd she appeared firm, with a deliberate regality. It was one of the first things you learned as a politician.
"Friends of Druckenwell," the words came just as rehearsed, "Friends of the Galaxy."
The sensation of her own voice filled her with solidarity. She could not find Marie in the crowd, but she could see the girl in her mind. Her heart stilled, and her hands drifted free of the Podium, flowing with her words. Now she had the ease and the confidence that had always defined her politically. Stepping onto the stage had never gotten easier, but being on the stage... it had become like breathing. The Chancellor continued, speaking the words she knew so well.
"I come to you in a time of war..."
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Regnier
I get paid to kill bodies, and I enjoy my job. Any questions?
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last online Jan 19, 2012 4:30:24 GMT -5
Guardian
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Jul 9, 2010 4:28:19 GMT -5
Post by Regnier on Jul 9, 2010 4:28:19 GMT -5
Serenity.
It was difficult to find in this place, this veritable sea of life. There was just so much of it, everywhere. It was unlike Coruscant in that it was far more compacted, but still not like a refugee sector on Nar Shaddaa in that the edge of despair didn't foul the air. There was darkness here, there was light, and there was everything in-between. So much, so many tendrils of the Force, interwoven as intricately as a web, invisibly as a shadow in the blackest of rooms to most. Some were greater than others, some barely capable of being seen. Frustration, anger, joy, amusement...emotions of all ranges ran rampant, adding color to the weave, creating a work of art only a select few would ever see like this, as a whole. Glimpses, even many of those gifted with the use of the Force would only ever see glimpses.
Enter the Sage Masters, the seers. This painting, this masterwork, it was here that many of them were most at home, sifting through the tendrils, seeing through the individual layers, deciphering what it all meant, what would come of it all. Some were better at reading the smaller details, some the larger ones, but either way...this thing of beauty was something few got tired of seeing.
Always changing, the fabric of life never stopped moving, not once. Each individual was hardly of note within the grand scheme, but any action, even the smallest of them, could have the profoundest of effects, its ripples changing the courses of countless other lives. It was rare that one speck in this unimaginably massive canvas could change the entire thing, but...
Revan.
The Jedi Exile.
Exar Kun.
Mandalore the Betrayer.
No, it was possible for any one piece, no matter how seemingly insignificant, to change a great deal. The same could be said for a single act. The assassination of the Supreme Chancellor could easily qualify as such an act, and that was the reasoning for the presence of High Council Member Vakkor. Even before returning to the rest of the Council on Coruscant, she had come here after learning of the speech through a fellow Jedi she had met on her return. She had seen all to well the effects of the previous Chancellor's demise, she had seen all too well the turmoil all of the political...ongoings had done, through the Force as well as with her own eyes. This woman, this Victoria Naaden, she could not die, not so soon after the death of her predecessor, not in the midst of this war.
And so, the weight of a Jedi Master, well respected by her own for a scarcely rivaled command of the physical aspect of the Force and her gift of Sight was added to the defensive layers surrounding Chancellor Naaden.
And there she sat, behind a speaker near the back of the stage, knees spread wide on the floor, feet neatly beneath her shapely buttocks, her head bowed, eyes closed, and her hands gently clasped before her, her fingers forming something akin to a pyramid. To her, there was no sound, no light, no vibrations running through the stage beneath her, no smell of sweat or perfume permeating the air. Immersed completely in the Force, there was nothing beyond the great artwork spread before her. She could 'see' the individual Jedi littered around the arena, the Chancellor, most of her security detail not in the crowd.
Serenity. Yes, it could be found, even here. An utter calm in a sea of chaos, and it was there Kellick truly sat. The eye of the storm, unaffected, seeing it for all it truly was. She was the guardian that watched not through physical eyes, but through the Force. And the Force, though it could be manipulated, though it could hide, it could never lie. Already, it whispered to her of death and darkness, blood to be spilled. Unlike her compatriots, the Sage Master had no illusions that the peace of this event would be broken, not a single one, and when that time came...
Naaden could not die tonight.
No, she would not die tonight.
I...I will see to that.
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sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
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last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
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Jul 12, 2010 0:16:54 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Jul 12, 2010 0:16:54 GMT -5
"Worst. Posting. Ever." Pallin muttered as he looked out the window from the second highest floor of the Svanhildr building. "Why did they need guards on every floor when the only way an assassin could get to the top is through the ground floor?"
"Beats me. They're paranoid. Although after the last chancellor died, I guess I can't blame 'em."
"I was hoping we'd at least get to see the chancellor. But the view's being blocked by that blasted announcer tower." Pallin shook his head. No assassin would be coming to this building. Not when there wasn't even line of sight to the center of the stadium. That was probably why the neighboring building, such as the Olaf Tower,got twice the number of guards, but still it irked Pallin that he was assigned to a post that was essentially useless. "I bet Harrak over there in Olaf is laughing at us right now."
"Stop complaining," Joris said as he gave Pallin a punch in the shoulder. "Just because you got third in the department target shooting competition doesn't mean you get a front-row sheet. Were you hoping to meet the chanc-- Oww!" His teasing was cut off by Pallin's reply punch. He rubbed his chin with his hand and then grinned. "Just deal the cards already, willya?"
Pallin took the deck and starting laying out the cards. Ahh, pazaak, the ever-reliable time-killer.
Joris won the first round, but Pallin won the next three, and thus the game. "Alright, Joris, pay up!" Joris turned to reach for this wallet, but suddenly stopped, craning his neck towards the door.
"Did you just hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"I thought I heard... I don't know. I'm just going to go check it out."
"Is this some ploy to get out of paying. Nothing is going to happen here."
"Whatever. I'll be back after I make another round through the hallway. I coulda swore I heard something." With that Joris quickly got up and left the room.
Time always seems to move slowest during silence. A round through the hallways was only supposed to take less than a minute, but Joris seemed to be gone for an eternity. Pallin was beginning to feel slightly creeped out, when he suddenly heard a thump.
"Joris? Is that you?" Slowly he got up, poked his head outside the doorway. Just an empty hallway. Where was Joris? He stepped outside the room. "Hey man, where'd you run off to?"
He heard a quiet rustling sound behind him, but Pallin never had time to turn around and find out what it was, as something cold and metallic suddenly closed around his neck. Some pressure, a twist, and then nothing.
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Zarene let the cold body of the guard drop to the floor, her second kill of the day, and walked into the room that he had come out from, placing her bags onto the floor next to what looked like a card game in progress. She reached into the first bag, took out the metal pieces, quickly assembling her sniper rifle, which she propped against the corner.
Making her way to the window, she opened it slowly. She could see the stadium clearly, though not the podium from which the chancellor would be making her speech. She had known that coming in of course. By coming in through this building she was able to get the height that she needed while not having to go through so many guards. Speaking of guards...
The guards in the Olaf Tower must have had stricter orders and better supervision, as they continued to make regular rounds through the way, with a guard checking the window offices once every two minutes. They could not conceive of how anyone would be able to reach those offices without going through the hallway first, but they checked anyway.
Immediately after one of the guards made his inspection and went on this way, Zarene opened up the window fully, large enough so that she could slip through. Reaching for her grapple gun, she aimed and fired, sending a length of fibercord over to the other building. Finding a secure place to tie it off, she now had a nice tightrope connecting the two structures.
Zarene swung her pack around her soldiers again and took extra care in tightening the buckles before picking up her rifle. She took a deep breath. Even if those guards don't come around for another minute, anyone on the street who decides to look up will be able to see me. Need to do this fast. Thirty seconds tops.
Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight.
She stepped outside the window, hooking her legs around the rope, using her arms to pull her along.
Twenty-seven. Twenty-six. Twenty-five. Twenty-four...
... Sixteen. Fifteen.
The stadium roared in applause, before suddenly plunging into complete silence. The chancellor had arrived and was taking her place.
Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve. She swung her left leg to the same side as her right. Her hands let go of the rope.
Eleven. Ten. Nine. She hung there upside down. The blood suddenly rushed to her head but she quickly forced the feeling away.
Eight. Seven. Six. She reached behind her for her rifle, bringing the scope to her eye, and took aim.
Five. Four. Three. She had done the calculations for drop and wind while inside. But she needed to check one last time. She adjusted her aim accordingly.
... Two. One. In order to build a new Order, we must first create chaos. Her finger pressed down on the trigger.
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Regnier
I get paid to kill bodies, and I enjoy my job. Any questions?
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last online Jan 19, 2012 4:30:24 GMT -5
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Jul 25, 2010 2:27:14 GMT -5
Post by Regnier on Jul 25, 2010 2:27:14 GMT -5
"I come to you in a time of war..."
Somewhere, on some subconscious level, the words coming through the speakers registered. The sound entered through the ears, yes, but to say the Jedi Master heard them wouldn't be entirely true. The sudden changes in the tapestry laid out before her as the Supreme Chancellor began speaking, however, those she was fully aware of. Nothing, however, yet matched exactly what it was she was looking for. Hatred and anger were one thing, predecessors to an ill-planned attempt on the life of another, simple to see coming with a trained 'eye', but then there was simple...aggression. An act of violence not backed by emotion, but by logic and training. It was far more difficult to notice, even for those who knew what they were looking for, and thus more dangerous. It was the sign of a professional, not a simple killer, and honestly, that was where Kellick expected the threat to come from, a real shooter, not a throwaway gun arm with a smuggled-in blaster.
Granted, she'd been wrong before, just like everyone else, and she held no illusions about the fact, but prediction was a part of her job, and even if she'd been a little out of practice recently, so to speak, she was still pretty good at it, in her opinion. Not that she'd ever say as much out loud, but she did know her own limits very well, and that was exactly why she was sitting in the background, closed off to the world around her and not at the forefront, eyes open. That she left to others, to catch a more open threat nearby, while she focused on things more distant, more concealed. If one among the others failed, then there was another that could catch what they missed, but if she did, there was no safety net, no one else watching where she was. In truth, it was likely that even were the other Jedi to search for her through the Force, they wouldn't feel her presence, it was so spread out. It was there, yes, but...thin, spread all across the area, but all too easily overlooked.
And there it was, barely there, easily concealed within the great tapestry the Force was constantly weaving everywhere, through everyone. Where once the tiniest speck once was, there was emptiness, bringing no effect overall to the scheme of the artwork around it, as easily dismissed as nothing as it was missed. But it was not missed, nor was it dismissed. A life had been taken, and there, another of the tiniest specks vanished. Kellick waited, watching with a new focus. Death, it blended naturally with it's surroundings, so much so that perhaps if Kellick were not so accustomed to it that it may have been a little disturbing, but she was all too familiar with how little it affected the image as a whole. She also knew, however, that death usually lead to more death, and in a place and time such as this, there was little doubt in her mind that the Chancellor's life was now actively threatened.
There.
It was a subtle thing, difficult to identify by those who weren't accustomed to seeing it. Aggression spawned from calculation, not anger, accompanied by the tiniest unnatural shift of energy. One stayed in place, the other didn't. Instantly, the presence of the Sage Master retracted from the tendrils of the Force all around her, once again becoming what it naturally was as she snapped into action. Even before she had risen fully to her feet, the Force pooled within her, coiling, swirling around her as she drew on its power. As she stood, the veins along her neck and forehead swelled and her hands separated, forming into two halves of a ball, bending the Force to her will.
As the small, shaped piece of metal traveling towards the Supreme Chancellor at lethal speeds came within five feet of it's target, it shifted direction by roughly forty-five degrees at a greatly reduced velocity, it's kinetic energy redistributing as it impacted an invisible surface that it lacked the kinetic force to penetrate. As the slug embedded itself in a speaker behind Naaden, causing it to screech and die, Kellick had just begun to move towards her, broadcasting a strong, yet simple message into the minds of her fellow Jedi.
Danger.
In a few long strides, the Onderonian was beside the Supreme Chancellor, lightsaber in hand, though still deactivated and held behind her, concealing it from the crowd; not, however, from Naaden. "With respect, Chancellor Naaden, please leave the stage with haste. Your life is in some danger, please trust me in this." She said, her tone calm and level, though firm and carrying a sense of seriousness and urgency, mirrored by her face. She also made it a point to speak away from the mic, and softly enough that it wouldn't pick up her voice. "That was the first attempt on your life, and I have little doubt that there will be more to follow."
Narrowing her eyes as stands of her hair fluttered gently in her face, she allowed her senses to take over, waiting patiently for the next move. Tonight, a great deal could be decided, or very little at all could change.
Either way, it had begun.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
1,617 posts
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Rocking from the Great White North
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last online Apr 20, 2022 19:46:47 GMT -5
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Jul 25, 2010 11:57:37 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Jul 25, 2010 11:57:37 GMT -5
After giving Master Locke the blaster he'd bought for him, Jazen had retreated into the crowd, separating himself from Locke. This was as much for the purpose of making sure the Jedi guards were spread out far enough to counter an attack from any side as it was to avoid hearing either a lecture or a swarm of approval from Locke. As much as Jazen wanted to hope that Locke would simply accept the gift, he suspected he would want to know how Jazen had managed to obtain the money for it. He would tell him, eventually, but for now he wanted it to remain his little secret.
With little effort, Jazen had slipped between members of the ground audience, using little subtle nudges of the Force and light pushes with his hand to navigate amongst them. He felt for his fellow Jedi, found their relative location on relation to his, then picked a spot that put him in between two of those Jedi. His Master was on his right and a Jedi Knight Jazen had yet to meet was on his left, the distance in between each of them not so great that it would hinder them joining up, but far enough to give them a wider barrier against whatever may come.
The sudden silence along with the shifting of the entire group around him forced Jazen to look at what they were. He didn't have to see what it was to know. Taking her place on the dias that sat in the center of the stadium, the Supreme Chancellor strode to the podium that would allow her voice to echo throughout the entire stadium. Jazen folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head up to listen, but knew what the start of the speech meant. The time had come. Knowing now was most likely when any attempt on the Chancellor's life would occur, Jazen ignored his fear of feeling the minds of thousands to extend his touch with the Force as far as it would go.
He'd mentally prepared himself for the wash of emotions and various states of mind that he;d felt earlier, not wanting to feel that sense of being overwhelmed again. But it was quiet. Not completely, as several voices still played out their emotions clearly, but for the most part, the entire crowd had silenced themselves in order to hear the Chancellor's words. The change in the audience amazed Jazen, for it was something he had heard of, but never actually witnessed. A complete shutdown in order to focus on one thing, one being; whether it was out of respect or curiosity did not matter. The effect was still the same.
Jazen let out a small sigh, thankful for the peaceful silence in the world around him. It's appearance not only saved Jazen from the pain of having to pit his inner strength against thousands, but allowed him to concentrate on his task. His touch with the Force reached out as far as it would go, which at the very least, gave him the ability to feel the emotions of all those in the stadium. And while they were suppressed and quieter than before, he could still find them if he focused. Awe, elation, curiosity, impatience; all of these filled throughout the minds of the people present. No hostile intentions of any kind, no sudden surges of anger, no warnings from the Force of impending danger.
Jazen turned his attention back to the Chancellor, he was just about ready to begin her speech. He didn't lessen his attention to the world around him, feeling the emotions of his fellow Jedi as well, looking for a sign that they had spotted something. And everyone gave off the same feel - everything was fine. Expect for one; the Jedi Master Kellick. Being the senior Jedi here, her strength was greater than that of all others present and her connection to the Force was most likely the strongest amongst them. And something had caused her to pause.
The sudden shift in her presence as she gathered the Force to herself made Jazen'd body tense. The first words had barely left the Chancellors mouth when Kellick sent out one impression through the voice, as loud and clear as if she had been standing next to Jazen and yelling it into his ear. Danger. As if reacting to her words, the Force suddenly screamed the warning itself, a warning of a imminent threat incoming. Jazen's stance changed in an instant, his body drawing on the Force for strength and to help him locate the source of the danger.
The sound of one of the dias's speakers exploding into static turned Jazen back to the stage in time to see a shower of sparks fly from the damaged speaker. Without hesitation, Jazen launched himself from the crowd to land at the base of dias, his saber snapping to life even before he hit the ground. He rose it up defensively in front of him, adopting the Soresu stance he had been practicing with Locke as of late. He was still a rookie at the form, but he felt it would at least allow him to counter smaller attacks till he could receive backup. His eyes darted from one person or location to the next, trying to identify where the attack had come from. As he did, he sent out a shout to Locke, informing him of where he was in case Locke needed to find him in a hurry.
As the crowd, both before him and in the stands all around, sprung into a panicked mass of confusion and fear, Jazen kept his mind on the task, trying to dig through the flood of emotions that now surged towards him in the Force t find one that he could place as the attacker. As he did, one thought alone entered his head.
"So much for a quiet day......"[/i]
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Kuhblam
I've got two guns, one for each of ya'.
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last online Sept 7, 2013 15:30:01 GMT -5
Guardian
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Jul 25, 2010 14:02:05 GMT -5
Post by Kuhblam on Jul 25, 2010 14:02:05 GMT -5
Ryke stood not ten feet away from Master Kellick and the Chancellor with the group having made it's way towards the upraised central stand in the middle of stadium. His face remained concealed underneath a traditional Jedi cowl, and hidden stern features glanced across the stands as Ryke's senses searched an archaic, chaotic tsunami of attentive souls zoning on the Chancellor.
Too much to watch at once. But there's something wrong here. Something very wrong.
His attentiveness to detail was giving Ryke too much of a headache. However, he couldn't get it off his armored chest that it was almost too quiet. Unable to cool his mind off and maintain composure, Ryke shifted uneasily unfolding his arms and placing his hands behind his back. Ryke's gaze took notice of some of the reporters, who shifted their cameras to briefly cover some of the background personnel, Ryke included amongst them. His mind went briefly back to the assassin camera theory, then returned to cover more paranoid conspiracies.
Your just being impulsive, Ryke. Relax. Master Kellick will notice anything out of the ordinary. You just play the part of the bouncer and everything will be fine.
Ryke's ears attuned to the Chancellor as she began her propaganda speech. Admittedly, Ryke admired the Chancellor for being so bold in her wording and voting. If he were Chancellor, he would have most likely chosen logic by using a double to do such a major public appearance. Then again, Ryke was a Jedi Knight. He had no desire for public appearances, nor for the political grandiose of the lime-light nor the wealthy perks of being in such a high public service position. Ryke also did not think the idea of being a continued target for assassinations was an ideal vacation either. Of course, the Force had dictated a different destiny for him; here, he was the guardian, the protector.
"Friends of Druckenwell. Friends of the Galaxy. I come to you in a time of war."
Briefly, Ryke tried again to ascertain any type of threat in the stadium, again to no avail. His own, weaker force senses briefly detected distress in Master Kellick, whom he could tell was zoning in on something in the stands. Her mind was wandering away from the Chancellor and towards something in the stands, far away. Ryke could tell she was concerned about something. The Force snaked from Ryke's mind like slithering serpents, searching for the same concerted threat that Master Kellick was looking for. However, for all his raw talent and expertise, Ryke was no Master Jedi and simply not as experienced as his counterpart on the dias. He simply could not find the dangerous figure that Master Kellick was supposedly looking for. Making a mental note to watch for any queue from the Onderonian to spring into action, Ryke tensed up a bit more before relaxing again. Hopefully, whatever the Master was sensing was just some sort of harmless flicker. Turning his attention back to the Chancellor, Ryke tuned in once more to her speech, the attentive sea of her supporters around the stands mimicking him in their actions.
Before the speech progressed any further, Ryke's mind instantly clicked into action with what he had expected from Master Kellick; a warning. As she sent a ball of sheer force energy into a silent, whistling projectile hurtling for the Chancellor, the bullet went awry by several degrees and instead deflected into the throat of an aide directly behind her, sending the bullet through his throat as blood sprayed from both sides of his Adam's Apple. As the man fell backwards grasping his throat and thrashed back and forth on the ground, Ryke received the projected thought he was waiting for.
Danger.
A light-saber shooting from his hip to his hand as the crowd exploded in chaos, Ryke's burning yellow blade hummed with deadly intensity as he moved into an Ataru stance, moving forward to approach the Chancellor as Master Kellick instantaneously appeared at her side. Reporters below the dias started bellowing lines rehearsed for such an occasion as their cameras focused on the Jedi appearing in the stands with drawn light-sabers; more over, they focused on the Chancellor, Kellick, and Ryke as security personnel started to push all of them back away from the dias stand. Behind Ryke, two security team members tended to the speaker whilst others drew blaster carbines and blaster rifles, loading power packs in preparation for any other attacks.
His mind a flurry of activity as Ryke tried to compute hundreds of different courses of actions. Distress, anger, surprise, and the like; just a few of these were the emotions broadcast through the Force that Ryke detected as he in vain tried to zone in something concrete. Next to him, Master Kellick put a hand on the Chancellor's shoulder, finally speaking.
"With respect, Chancellor Naaden, please leave the stage with haste. Your life is in some danger, please trust me in this. That was the first attempt on your life, and I have little doubt that there will be more to follow."
Ryke's hooded figure, still with light-saber in hand, spoke in turn directly afterwards, his own tone of voice just as urgent as Master Kellick's wise voice. In front of them, a lone, white-haired Padawan leaped into action from the stands, landing next to the security detail in front of the dias with light-saber in hand and adopting a Soresu defensive stance.
"Chancellor, I must agree with Master Kellick on this matter. There will no doubt be more attempts planned in case this one failed, which thankfully it did. I suggest we leave for your speeder at once and leave this place for your welfare as well as that of the citizens around you."
His light-saber still humming, Ryke's senses almost immediately went crazy when he sensed a black-hole of raw force energy briefly appear with the emotion of surprise and anger backing it before becoming concealed again. It's power signature was immense in the one moment Ryke sensed it; sheer dark side energy had radiated from it's position before disappearing again.
Can it be? Impossible. Not here. Not now.
He spoke again, this time to Master Kellick a tone of urgency before anyone even moved another muscle. He was sure she must have sensed it; there could be no mistaking what he had just felt. Even so, he still had to ask the question for the sheer, nervous feeling of it.
"Did you sense it?"
It had suddenly come to Ryke that the situation was, quite possibly, more severe and intense than he had previously gauged in a former thought.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Jul 25, 2010 15:03:59 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jul 25, 2010 15:03:59 GMT -5
Adara edged through the throng as they anxiously waited for the supreme chancellor to make an appearance. No longer did she mull on how desperately she hated crowds, but rather what she'd do should Zarene's slug not meet flesh. Though she loathed to admit it, a deep part of her wanted Zarene to miss. Wanted a Jedi to block the shot. Wanted to fight. Because that's what she was: A warrior. Warrior's don't go to a battlefield only to let some faraway shooter do the killing and walk away when the task was accomplished. A warrior goes to a battlefield, fights, and kills.
Those icy blue eyes peered out at the supreme chancellor as she walked out to the podium, back straight and stride proud. A small smirk creased the woman's lips as gripped the phrik-plated quarter staff a little harder at the sight of the chancellor. Adara had a new level of respect in her heart. She'd heard and read things about Chancellor Naadine during research, but to actually see the woman from the second row... it was surprising. She held qualities that she last expected to find in a public official of the republic, and for that the elderly woman had the Epicanthix's respect. At least until the shooting started. Then the chancellor was just another mark.
A new power radiated outwards, behind the woman. It was one that was strong enough to be at the level of a high councilor. The power wasn't hidden, like hers, but rather it was spread out far and wide to search for potential threats. Her eyes grew wide at this realization, and she almost double checked to ensure that she still kept her signature hidden from the Jedi. It was.
"I come to you in a time of war..."
The woman barely had time to utter the final syllable before Zarene pulled the trigger, starting a sequence of events that sent unleashed a hypersonic slug between her and the chancellor. That power cast an impression through the force infront of the bullet's flight path, protecting the woman from the almost inconceivable forces at work. The slug slammed into the barrier and kinked into a speaker, demolishing the internal parts in an loud display of spark and static.
Less than a second later, the source of that power appeared at the side of the chancellor and the report of the faraway rifle reached her ears. A Jedi leaped to the front of the stage like a grasshopper leaping from a blade of grass, igniting his lightsaber mid-flight. "Idiot," the woman thought as she her arm was raised up towards him, hidden from most of the stage behind a man's body. Her aim was to capture the young man in a pocket of her telekinetic power, which was considerably easier seeing as he had no ground beneath his feet. Once that was done, if it was done, she cast her arm back towards the crowd in an attempt to throw him as far away from the chancellor and the fight as possible.
Adara stepped over the barricade, making herself as inconspicuous as possible. Not that a six foot-two inch woman clad in navy blue satin cloth with a quarter staff was inconspicuous. It was human nature to rely on one's eyes rather than their feelings. For the most part. It was Force User nature to rely on their feelings and senses. For the most part. And Adara... she was hidden from the senses of the best Jedi.
A man tried to tackle her, only to get the end of her staff in his gut followed by a solid kick to the sternum. It wasn't enough to kill him, just knock the wind out of him and send him sprawling back. Now was the time for overt action. The woman rolled onto the stage and jumped up to her feet, quarter staff ready but deactivated. Those blue eyes watched the chancellor with a cool countenance as stood, her stance balanced and ready to jink or attack. There wasn't hate or anger in the woman's stare, but rather the powerful urge to be successful.
While they probably had the strong belief that she was a Dark Jedi, there was no way for them to know for sure. She'd released enough of her presence to make her appear as if she was a normal person. Skilled, yes, but certainly not one that could wield the Force. "'Tis a shame," her voice was drowned out in the crowd, "I hoped that my first encounter with a Jedi would be more... impressive."
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
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last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
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Jul 25, 2010 17:25:55 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 25, 2010 17:25:55 GMT -5
{Yes, I had permission to hit Adara :3}
Asir continued to look out over the crowds of people that filled the stadium, waiting to see the Chancellor. He couldn't tell if it was a reflection of his own anticipation or if the air was growing more and more charged as the top of the hour approached. With it would come Chancellor Naaden, and everyone wanted to hear what she had to say.
It was an odd thing, him being here. Back in school, he'd often been the butt of many a joke from his peers, since he was near the bottom of the class; of course, this was at one of the best journalism schools on Corsucant, so make of it what you will. Yet, once they'd all graduated, he'd done well for himself, through luck, hard work, or some combination of the two. And here he was now, covering a bigger story than they could ever hope to, for all the Galaxy to see. Where were they? He couldn't say, but they certainly weren't here. Asir could only hope that they were in their homes, watching his triumph.
"How long 'till we're back on the air, Torsh?"
"About a minute. Naaden's scheduled to come out in five."
Again, almost instinctively, Asir ran a hand through his neatly trimmed blue hair, as if he hadn't done it enough times already. Oh, but he had to look good for this! The Galaxy would see him, and live; he couldn't afford to have even one hair out of place. Besides, once everything was said and done, he'd have some time to himself. Perhaps he'd spend it out in the city, looking for some pretty young girl...
"Asir!" Torsh called, giving him the signal that they were about to go live once more.
The Zeltron straightened out, standing proud and tall. Torsh counted down with his fingers from five, and the signal went live once more.
"And we're back at the Druckenwell's Delspoden Stadium, bringing you Supreme Chancellor Naaden's rallying call to the Republic as it happens. Coverage of the speech will be brought to you commercial free, thanks to a special sponsoring from Visari Enterprises.
"The Chancellor is due out any moment now, to provide the cap to what has been a monumental day for gathering support for the Republic's war effort. Her speech is expected to address those that have lost loved ones in the fighting as well as call fo--"
Noise suddenly erupted from the stands, and when Ashir turned around, he saw her. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, moving out of the way so Torsh could get a good shot of the Chancellor, "Supreme Chancellor Naaden has just made her arrival into the now incredibly loud Delspoden Stadium. The people here have just gone absolutely wild to see her, as you can all imagine. From this point on, we'll be bringing you her speech, and then I'll join you once it's done. Enjoy."
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Locke smiled at Jazen when his student drew near. Even through the buzz the crowd created in the realm of the Force, he could always feel the boy's specific presence, and could note where it was. It was the result of coming to know Jazen's presence so well over the past few months. But now Jazen stood before him, and offered both words and a gift.
The words brought a deepening of Locke's smile, and the gift, a raising of his eyebrows. It was a blaster pistol. A fairly nice one at that, not that Locke was in need of a new one; while it was true that the one he used was sort of old and had seen its share of wear, he took care of it and he liked it--there was a reason he had used it for so long and continued to do so. Even so, Jazen's gift was appreciated, even if it would more than likely be relegated to the role of a backup weapon.
"Hey thanks kid, but where did yo-" when he looked up, Jazen was gone, melting off into the crowds once more. Where did you get this? the thought finished. That was a conversation for later, perhaps. For now, he had to focus on the task at hand.
"Well, there she is," said Locke when Naaden appeared, walking with a strong, purposeful stride toward the dais that would soon be the center of the Galaxy's attention. The crowd exploded into cheers and applause, creating such a racket that Locke thought his ears were going to explode. "See?" he called to the man he'd been talking to, though he had to yell over the crowd. "People need to see her! It's good for morale!"
Naaden made it to the podium and the crowd went silent, eager to hear her words. The anticipation was palpable. Locke could feel each of his heartbeats as the silence stretched on and on, and time seemed to slow down.
"I come to you in a time of war..."
Kellick, who'd been sitting up on the dais near Naaden, suddenly rose, and before anyone knew what was going on, one of the speakers near the Chancellor went up in a shower of sparks and smoke. If Locke thought the crowd had been silent before, he'd been wrong. The silence that filled the stadium was the sort that filled the heart, filled one's very soul. But it didn't last long. It was broken by the report of a gunshot, off in the distance.
And then everything went to hell.
Noise erupted again, as people in the stands got up, scared out of their minds by the sound of gunfire. The sudden eruption of noise, both audible and in the Force, made Locke cringe, but even then, he was in motion, pointing and shouting orders to the guards around him. He looked up to see Jazen, leaping toward the stage... and then get thrown off into the crowd, and out of sight. That wasn't normal, he thought as he ran toward the center of the field.. There are other Force users here.
As he approached the stage, he noticed a tall woman beat the daylights out of a guard that tried to stop her advance. He frowned. Who is she? And how the hell did she get in with a staff? Whatever the answer, she had to be stopped. She wasn't a friendly; that much went without saying.
She beat Locke to the stage, but he got near enough to barely make out her words, though they were almost lost within the sea of noise that filled the stadium, echoing again and again off of the walls so that it only became louder.
"'Tis a shame. I hoped that my first encounter with a Jedi would be more... impressive."
Locke growled as he approached, and started to draw his presence in on itself, not that it was really needed with the sea of people that filled the place; it never hurt to be careful, though. She was an enemy. She was in a place she had no business being. She probably wanted a go at the Chancellor. He couldn't allow that to happen.
He picked up speed as he drew nearer, calling on the Force to aid him and send him forward, into a leap that took him sailing through the air, toward the woman's back. He went on, moving like a man-sized bullet, until his shoulder slammed into her back.
He wrapped his arms around her waist on impact and they went to the stage floor in a heap. Locke landed hard with a grunt, but he didn't stop, and rolled to the side, keeping his arms locked around her to pull them both off of the stage, safely away from Naaden.
When they hit the field, he let go and rolled away from her. He was a bit disoriented from it all, but he was able to push himself to his feet and grin at her.
"Then perhaps," he said around his slightly labored breaths, "I can provide a suitable amount of entertainment for you, my Lady." The last two words dripped with sarcasm.
"After all," he started with a grin as he took the hilt of his saber in hand and let the orange blade come to life, "the Chancellor is old, her bones brittle. Her dancing days are over, I should think. But me? I'm young, spry." He gestured toward her, using a little bit of telekinesis to attempt to nudge her toward him and away from the Chancellor. "And I'm in the mood for a bit of dancing."
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last online Apr 8, 2020 19:14:54 GMT -5
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Jul 25, 2010 21:40:03 GMT -5
Post by Grawn on Jul 25, 2010 21:40:03 GMT -5
"And that is why I hate ranged weapons," the Sith said aloud, not that anyone could hear him over the roaring chaos. People ran in every direction as fear became thick in the air. The shot would have ended everything if not for the interrence of the Jedi and it made Grawn chuckle silently that the Sith had thought a tiny shard of metal could be greater than the Force.
A dark deed was to take place now and Grawn brought his hood up to shield his head, bringing down his mask that had been hidden in it to conceal his face. He dropped the Force illusion now, the blue eyes fading as it was replaced by a hellish yellow and from behind his ancient mask, the Sith grinned. The shot had failed and now the chosen by the Overlord would now do their part. Because no blaster could do what a lightsaber could and while they could kill as effectively, it was never as personal. To be able to watch life wink from existence in someones eyes as you drew your blade from their gullet was a special thing indeed. His hands ached for his lightsabers metal shafts and the Force gave him his wish as they flew from the clips on his belt to their waiting embrace. Grawn's fingers wrapped around them as he went into action.
He could already see that Adara was entangled with a Jedi, so Grawn needed to ensure the Chancellor did not escape and this was his goal as he used the Force to super charge his legs. The energy built was massive and he ran forward a bit, bending his knees and launching himself into the air. The strength behind the leap was enough to make him land the stage, the area where he landed cracked as he stood straight and ignited his two red blades.
His eyes and his mind searched, searching for the woman who would die this day. Her death was needed to build order, the Republic needed its figurehead to be removed to become demoralized. This attack meant much more than some may realize because if proven successful it would mean that the Sith could be anywhere and no where was safe for the Republic higher ups. Fear would be a constant in the Republic government as all of the officials wondered would be next. In short,
Chancellor Naaden. must. DIE.
Grawn's presence was immediately responded against as a group of Security Forces came up the stairs to meet against the lightsaber wielding man. The twist of the wrist and a call of the Force was all that was needed to deal with them as he gathered his dark might, sending out against them. His hand flicked forward, his fingers clawed towards them and the next moment they were flying across the stadium, hitting and bouncing across the ground.
Finally he caught sight of the woman among the company of two cloaked men. The assassin began a hurried run towards them, not really caring if the two men were Jedi. The Force wrapped around him, ensuring if it was launched against him, he wouldn't be blown away like he had done to the guard and his body was ready to dodge whatever was to come at him, his blades in a Shien reversed grip and trailing behind him like twin tails of a serpentine beast.
((A tad short, but I'm leaving it open for engagement/whatever someone has planned.))
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Silas
Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken
742 posts
10 likes
Lord of the Morning, I have come for you!
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last online Jun 24, 2023 23:32:54 GMT -5
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Jul 26, 2010 1:26:37 GMT -5
Post by Silas on Jul 26, 2010 1:26:37 GMT -5
Danger
Assassination? Here? What in the name of Kataul have we done?
Quickly the staff spun in his hands as he slid backwards, he could almost feel the wall behind him as he watched the world around him. This wasn’t his fight; it would simply lead to his death. Roving eyes danced across the scene around him as he looked at the figures mull around in chaos, each one a little more confused than the last. Mordin was with them, he had no more idea of what to do about this abomination than anyone else. With a gasp of air he saw things go on; terrible things. Things which he could no more stop than a he could stop the turning of the tide, all he could do was bide his time until he saw the right moment. He was a Padawan without a master, and as such he’d have to find one soon or risk being caught by someone.
Then he saw Locke, it brought him comfort, and he grappled onto the Force for a second, to go after, and catch the man. Help him, but then he saw her. She didn’t emit the Force, but in her hand was a tool identical to his; the Jedi knew it had to be. The guard didn’t stand a chance, and he doubted he would either. However, the older man he saw earlier had already reacted; his prey was just about to face him full on. While he might help, he might get in the way too. Locke already had a Padawan, and he wouldn’t add to that.
It was agony as he stood there in wait. A row of sharp, white teeth chewed on the bottom of his lip as he stood on the verge of all this battle. Still, he waited, his pike within his hand, and his eyes snapped towards the Chancellor, who was being escorted by two knights, one of which was Kellick. If anyone could take care of her, it would be him. There were so many highly trained Jedi here, that he had no fear they would lose Ms. Naadan.
Then came the moment when he knew it was time to pick his battle.
A moment wherein his muscles tensed and he saw his prey.
With a push off his one foot he ran out, across the chaos which moved on all around him towards what he could only assume was one of the Dark Jedi. Two sabres followed the Dark Jedi as he made his way towards the chancellor; a venomous look on his face. There was but one thing that man wanted; death.
Tall stereos, two of them stood up near him. They floated upon sturdy stands, and with a tremendous leap he landed upon one of them. The Force as his alley, he hit the button on the deadly instrument in his hands, and within a moment it became a spear as it spun through the air. The moment it stopped flying, striking his opponent or not, he would call it back to his hand the same way it had flown that far.
”Master Kellick! Chancellor, there,” He yelled from atop the speaker, as he shrugged off his cloak. It fluttered through the air as he called his pike back to him. The other would no doubt respond to; he had to.
It might provide just the distraction they needed with his attack, or it could get him killed. Right now it didn’t matter, he had done something. It felt good, the Force fed upon his excitement as his tail flickered back and forth; his eyes preyed upon the men below. A snarl formed on his lips as he continued to stand upon his perch. As he rolled for a landing, he knew the man had two choices; the Padawan, or the Chancellor. Revenge, or revolution.
"Come get me, little Sith. Come get me," Whispered the Jedi with a taunt, knowing the man could not hear him.
The young Aquitan could only hope he would go against his little taunt, for he could not take this man on by himself. There was no way he had fallen actually being the victim of the blade he now had in his hands, but he wasn’t going to let any Jedi get even more surprised here. Sabre drawn, eyes intent he would let his enemy try to get him up here. If he came there would be one simple tactic he would attempt then; run as fast as he could away from the man. There would be no hope in that battle.
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Jul 26, 2010 15:05:52 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jul 26, 2010 15:05:52 GMT -5
For those who had caught the moment of impact on their cameras, later examination of any surviving footage would be quite interesting. The division between Jedi, and average human, became even more clear.
Naaden did not have abnormally slow reactions -- she was perfectly average, but watching the events at a tenth of the speed, she would seem to take years to react. One would be able to see the bullet warp, and the distortion of the air as the Jedi's shield took the impact. One could watch that mangled bullet fly at a forty-five degree angle into a speaker approximately six feet behind, and angled away from the Chancellor. Still her eyes would scan the crowd, her mouth forming the next syllable. Sped up, it would be something about those who would try to challenge peace and democracy. But at a tenth the speed, it's only a syllable.
The bullet would plunge slowly into the speaker, and there'd be a moment in which it just seemed to swallow the lead. But then sparks lit the puncture hole from behind, and then lanced out of the speaker's casing as it shorted and hissed and whined.
Not even a heartbeat passed, but it would seem like so much longer. One. Two. Then the eyes of the crowd grow wide, whites showing all the way around, another eon before they grab their ears.
And then the Chancellor, finally, with a look of surprise, and her head turning so slowly to catch the speakers with her eyes, hands falling forward to grip the podium, words dying in her throat.
But if you were there.
If you were living and breathing, and blood pounded in your veins, and you were listening to the speech, watching the Chancellor.
The moment passed faster than a blink.
Faster than a flash.
SNAP, HISS, SQUEAL, SPARK.
And then the Chancellor, having overcome her look of shock, and then the people.
What was it?
A short-out of the sound system?
Someone had kicked the speaker?
A microphone causing feed-back?
But then they saw the Jedi. They saw the Jedi standing there, and a Jedi only would have stood if there was danger.
Danger.
Danger.
The beast that was the crowd began to panic.
-=-
Victoria's brain raced. Her life was in danger -- she knew this. She had known this since the very first moment of her election, that her life would always be in danger, whether veiled or immediate. Now it was immediate.
But there was another immediate danger. Fear welled deep in Naaden's gut -- but not for herself. Fear for herself would be cowardice. It was fear for the people, the mob, the crowd, that would soon become a horde, a stampede.
"Please," she said into the microphone, even as the two Jedi flanked her -- the elder master, and the knight -- and began to warn her. Her voice did not waver with fear, or surprise. It was as strong and resolute as if she were simply listing her order for the local baker.
"It seems forces that be would prevent our meeting, friends. I will return to you as soon as I can. Please, remain calm, and listen for further instruction."
The two Jedi needn't have spent so many words convincing or comforting her. She knew the value of the position Supreme Chancellor, and she knew any threat to it must be presented with the utmost importance. Stubborn though she was, being Supreme Chancellor wasn't about pride. It was about doing what was best for the people, and at this moment in time, surviving was best for the people.
Naaden wondered, then, if fate demanded it, would she kill herself for the people? Was she selfless to that level? It was a misplaced thought, and she hoped that fate would simply never demand it.
Before Naaden had even the chance to turn, another figure demanded her immediate attention.
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.
Naaden locked eyes with this woman, as much by deliberation as coincidence.
When it comes to a humanoid, there is rarely an organ so expressive as the eyes. Naaden looked at the woman with a look in her eyes that spoke more clearly than any speech ever could. There was no fear in them.
'Come get me,' they said. 'Come at me. Charge me. I will not flinch, I will not waver. Kill me, kill me if you will but you will fail. You will fail because I am not one woman, one person. I am the people. And you cannot kill the people.'
With a blur and a flash like a stroke of lightning, the woman was gone, taken by some unknown force. This was the world and the battle of Jedi, with their flaring light-swords and premonitory reactions.
Naaden's world was a world of people, a game of hearts. And now people surrounded her. Friends. Her friends.
The Jedi weren't the only players here, and -- though just as miffed by the over-clocked battle as Naaden -- the Elite Security Force took its stand. Her personal guards had risen from their stations, and now surrounded her, a barrier of riot shields, blasters, and good ol' iron will.
As skilled as the Jedi were, nothing made her feel safer than her personal guard.
Naaden suddenly heard the word 'Chancellor', another young, male voice. Another Jedi. He directed her attention to the crowd, and no doubt, another threat.
Asp remained calm, taking a step towards the edge of the stage, as her guard gave orders, directed the crowd, demanded obedience.
And then she saw him. She was no Jedi, she couldn't feel the force, couldn't see darkness, didn't have premonitions. But she was a politician, and politicians knew how to read people. He stood out like a blaring red siren. His shoulders set too confident, his walk too purposeful, his vision too focused. A man with a mission.
There were only two missions, this place, this day.
Kill and protect.
And he certainly was not here to protect.
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