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Jazen
Beelzaboot
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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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Jun 22, 2010 19:00:31 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Jun 22, 2010 19:00:31 GMT -5
Jazen stood silent as his Master desperately tried to bring Blanche back from the dead. As helpless as he felt, as much as he wanted to go back to the bridge and perhaps that bounty hunter against their new foe, he could not. Leaving now, with his Master in such a state of disarray, was simply something he could not do. Jazen didn't think his Master was weak enough to need his presence to handle this kind of problem, but something about leaving now just felt wrong to Jazen.
So he waited and watched, letting himself go to the Force. He let the Force bring life to his body, letting his body itself a measure of rest in this awkward moment. Then he turned his control of the Force towards her. Letting its invisible fingers caress her limp body in the hope that by dumping his warmth, his hope, even his life through its touch, in the off chance that he could revive her that way. So when her body suddenly jolted to life, gasping and wheezing, Jazen almost believed it had worked. A moment later, she heaved the water that had plagued her lungs onto the ground, and Jazen snapped back to reality. Locke's CPR had paid off.
Jazen almost felt the invisible weight that had been plaguing his shoulders lift clear from them. The next breath he drew wasn't plagued with worry, or doubt, or fear that another twist was just waiting in the wings. This breath was filled with hope and relief and its taste was both refreshing and filling. Again he reached out with the Force, using what little power he could to try and calm the fear that suddenly surged up within her. For a brief moment, fear welled up in Jazen as well; the fear that Blanche would snap again and that this mission would continue on. He didn't know if his body could handle that; he was barely standing at the moment and only because he didn't have to do anything physically demanding.
That fear was dispelled right along with Blanche's fear of danger. Breathing another gasp of relief, Jazen knelt beside his Master, removing his padawan robes as he did. Underneath was a basic vest and shirt, the vest being something he added while traversing the city for Blanche's kidnappers. Locke probably wouldn't mind; he wore things that the Jedi Order didn't call for most the time anyway. He was about to wrap it around her when she slid away from Locke, clutching herself tightly to try and warm her shaking body. Jazen's first thought was that she was simply embarrassed by her sudden outburst of emotion. His connection via the Force, which was still attempting to steady her and himself for that matter, told him otherwise. Something had occurred to her. And whatever it was had taken the fire right out of her. Jazen was puzzled, but nodded when she offered her thanks to them. And sent a silent thanks to his Master's compliment as well.
As Locke swept Blanche up into his arms, Jazen swung his dry robes over her, turning them effectively into a blanket. It wasn't much, but it would do until they found her another set of clothes. He fell into step with his Master, then dropped back just slightly so he was only a step or two behind. Each step was a walking agony, but the thought of finishing this and finally getting a chance to rest stilled his exhaustion for the moment. He didn't completely believe they were safe yet, having already made that mistake once already. So he pulled the Force back to him and reached it out around them, little more than a small barrier surrounding their immediate area. It wouldn't displace anything or feel someone if they were relatively minor. But at the first sign of hostilities or danger, it would at least warn him it was coming. As they made for the tunnel by the bridge, Jazen listened carefully to Locke's words, unsure of the reasoning behind them. Still, they seemed to take that last ounce of weight off him and for that, he was grateful.
"Your thanks are appreciated, but are not needed Ms Blanche. I only acted in accordance with the wishes of those who wish to see you brought before them safely. And as Locke said, it is a Jedi's duty to help those in peril or distress, no matter the reason. The information you're providing on the Hutt is a great thing indeed, but had we not known of that detail, we would have aided you anyway. In my opinion, the preservation of your life is a much greater reward than dirt on something that rolls in it."
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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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Jun 22, 2010 19:02:04 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jun 22, 2010 19:02:04 GMT -5
The Shadowman felt as much as heard the blast of the rifle. The shot swung wide by inches -- the human had been sent off-balance by the fringes of the sonic blaster's strike. It had not been a direct hit, regrettably...
But the woman was fallen and back up again, and the Shadowman took his chance. One, two, three more shots in rapid succession, the bleed-over of the energy kicking up dust on the rooftops.
To shoot, the shadowman had to stay steady, and that was a vulnerability... the woman's second rifle-shot hit home, disappearing into the insect's cloak.
But that was the thing -- insectoids react differently to such things, than would humans. Instead of soft, flesh and fragile bones, insects had rigid exoskeletons, and redundant organ systems. This shadowman was no different, and the creature barely stumbled as the blast tore through its chest. It would have been a kill-shot to a human. But not to a shadow-man, never to a shadow-man. Having no proper heart, the creature was maintained by the fluid that filled its abdominal cavity, sluggishly pumped around by several organs. The blast had hit no major muscles, and missed the creature's oddly placed lungs. Through-and-through the projectile had gone, but it hardly gave the insectoid reason to stop.
It grinned wider. One, two, more shots with the sonic blaster. And it was only getting started...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Normally, Blanche would have balked at being picked up. For as long as she could remember, it had meant pain and punishment. The Hutt's tugs, Kzat especialy, had loved nothing more than to pick her up by the neck, or the arm, or haul her over their shoulder, and lord over the woman in a way she could do nothing about. She hated it. Being carried meant a lack of control, and lacking control was not gone.
She began to protest as Locke began to lift her, but the words melted from her tongue as soon as the sharp, frigid riverbank had fallen away. Her whole body ached, especially her arm and her abdomen where the Dashade had carried her. Her feet felt like they were on fire from all the running. Her breathing still wasn't normal, and the water had stolen away every remaining bit of her energy. Any one of these things would not have been enough to overcome Blanche's paranoia, her need for control. But all of them, all together... she was rendered willing to the Jedi's arms. Then again, this was helped by the fact that even though Blanche had to remain wary of the Jedi, by general principle, she trusted him. Sort of. For now.
On his own, Locke might not have been considered 'gentle', but Blanche had Dashades and Herglics to compare to, so to her wearied form, he was the epitome of gentleness.
By the Force, she needed to get out more.
"You know, Blanche," he said, "You don't have to thank me."
Blanche's breathing caught. She had translated that phrase dozens of times. The Hutt always said it when he was about to do something horrible to the client to immediately nullify the need for thanks. So this is how it ended, this is what happened when she let her guard d--
His next words sank in. They were already even. He wasn't about to make it so. She let herself relax again. She even recovered so far as to let her mouth twitch vaguely towards a smile at the mention of having saved the Jedi. She had done that, hadn't she? Yeah, she had. So maybe she could accept this being aided by the Jedi because she'd earned it. Right? Hadn't she? Blanche let herself think she had. She deserved that much, after all that had happened.
She listened closely to his description of the Jedi. She'd never been told properly who they were or what they did -- all she knew is that the slug hated them, and that made them alright in her book. This one had at least earned her respect for the lengths he went to complete the mission--
"I've worked so hard tonight," he then said, "To get to you not just because the mission called for it, but because you're a person just like the rest of us."
Blanche forgot to breathe. Just like the rest of them. Her entire life, she'd been told she was lesser, inferior. By her parents, who had harrassed and abandoned her because her eyes were too pink and her skin was too pale. By the Hutt, who had told her she was a tool and a possession, and nothing more, and by his clients, who had confirmed the same with their abuse, their lewd comments... She had been fighting the whole galaxy for the past twenty years to prove that she was just as good as them! She was just as capable, just as much of a person! To actually be told that, to actually find a person who recognized it, without having to be told, convinced, it was completely and utterly foreign. But Blanche could not trust it wholly, because she thought she remembered hearing that Jedi could read minds, a fact that had sent the slug hissing. So maybe he was manipulating her. But maybe he wasn't. That conflict simply meant that her exhausted mind was sent reeling, unsure of much of anything anymore.
A breeze rolled in from the ocean, where the first dim haze of daylight was bleeding from the horizon. Blanche shuddered involuntarily at the cold, curling closer to the Jedi. Okay, so being carried wasn't so bad.
"But you're safe now, Blanche. You're safe, and I'll stop anyone that tries to take that safety away from you. You have my word on that."
He had to bring the one-two punch, didn't he? He just had to. Safe. The word echoed in Blanche's ears, symptom of either delusion or exhaustion. Safe. It broke her.
Her tears were hot like fire as they slid down her chilled skin. Her face was wet, so perhaps her tears could remain hidden. A single, quiet sob escaped her, as the twilight became the darkness of the tunnel. It almost felt good to cry, when she wasn't scared for her life, anyway. She'd refused to cry for so long, as it never failed to egg the Hutt on. But now, she could just let the tears spill, and silently join the wetness.
It felt so good to be warmed. To be carried and safe. So, good. Goodness wasn't a think she was accustomed to, and she savored it. It was like a lullaby to her exhaustion. The tunnel was dark, so she let her eyes shut, curtain falling on her tears. Her head leaned against the Jedi's chest, and she could hear his breathing and his heartbeat, vaguely. Steady, rhythmic sounds. No longer could she fight the exhaustion that gripped her. Even her bones felt tired, and she didn't even know that was possible. So Blanche's mind drifted. Not away from her body, not this time. Rather, deeper into it. It was a fragile state, but it was welcome. Blanche slept.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jun 23, 2010 17:32:36 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jun 23, 2010 17:32:36 GMT -5
A few minutes later found the trio in one of the space ports lobbies. It had been emptied when fighting first broke out, and after a defense perimeter was established, it was turned into a makeshift field hospital. There was a medical facility proper at the space port, but there wasn't enough space there for the security guards or innocents that were injured in the fighting. And so, a few medical workers could be spared from dealing with the injured from the bombing at the University were moved over to the space port.
Locke was seated on a table, facing one of the windows that looked out over the ocean. The tattered, wet guard uniform he'd taken had long been disposed of, and replaced by some simple grey pants and a dark blue short-sleeved shirt. For the moment his torso was bare, as one of the medical workers went about wrapping bandages around his chest to cover the salve that had been applied to the two deep cuts that Kzat left behind. Locke, for his part, was just thankful to be dry, though he was on the verge of punching the woman that was treating him in the face, with the way she was near-incessantly nagging him.
"Knight Locke, all I'm saying is that you really should have gotten some attention for these cuts before you went jumping into the river. Tha-"
"Yes, Myn, I know," Locke said in a too-kind voice; the kind used by parents who were on their last nerve with an annoying child. "However, I've told you already that the situation didn't allow for it. There just wasn't enough time to go seek out some aid."
"Well, you wouldn't be speaking so calmly if you got an infection, Knight Locke." Locke just smiled and nodded. He didn't have the patience to go through an argument with the woman, do he'd just let her have her say and be happy. "Those cuts are going to scar, and you don't need any more to go with the one on your shoulder. Or across your back."
"Ah, but I was always told that women liked scars!" He laughed at the flat look Myn gave him and shook his head. "Still, these two newest ones bring me to four, I believe? Not bad, if I do say so myself." Locke offered Myn a toothy grin, and went on to say, "Why, I'm sure I'll have a harem of women after me everywhere I go!"
"You're hopeless," Myn replied with a shake of her head. But still, Locke saw the smile touching her face, small though it was. She finished wrapping him up a few moments later, and gave a self-satisfied nod. "That should hold you until you're able to get back to your healers at the Jedi Temple. Take some these as well," she said, handing him a small container that held some of the anti-bacterial salve that she'd applied to his cuts, along with a short roll of bandages. "Change the bandages out every twenty four hours, and apply a fresh coating of salve with each one."
"My lady," Locke said as he pulled the shirt on over his head, "you have my undying gratitude. I will do as you say with the utmost-"
"Hopeless," she said again, and turned to leave.
"Wait, wait! I have a question. A serious question, rather..." Myn stopped and turned to look at Locke as he slid off of the table. His lightsaber and blaster had been returned to him, and he took them and placed them both back in their proper places on his belt as he spoke. "How is the girl that I brought here?"
"She'll be fine, now that she's dry and warm again. What she needs most now is rest."
"Right," Locke said with a nod. "Thank you for your help." He kicked on the shoes that had been provided to him to use while his boots dried, and went off into the lobby, to see if he could find either Jazen or Blanche. Once everything was in order, they could finally look toward getting out of that Force-forsaken city and to Coruscant, or for Blanche, to safety and the start of a new life.
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Cirith An'Gol
"You got something for me? or are you just another slack jawed arruetti admiring my armor"-Cirith
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last online May 31, 2020 19:14:38 GMT -5
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Jun 28, 2010 19:55:19 GMT -5
Post by Cirith An'Gol on Jun 28, 2010 19:55:19 GMT -5
Arwyn skipped backwards as the sounds of sonic filled muzzle fire reached her ears. It had been awhile since she'd fought anyone with sonic weapons but, she remembered their sound and sting distinctly. The sonic energies whistled as they went past her helmet. So he's through playing, it's about time! She thought within the confines of her own head. She heard the sonic weapon fire one, two, three more times and instinctively dived into a roll. She vaguely noticed that the sun was coming up as she came out of her roll and caught herself wondering It's been that long? Did the sun even set? she came up her rifle leveled. She shot her E-11 once, twice, three times in time with the Shadowman's movements, her HUD outlining the insectoid alien and giving her an image of him as he fired at her. Arwyn fired at the insectoid assassin, one, two, three shots ringing out, aimed at the sonic weapon of the Shadowman. It was a hard shot to be sure, but, unless he dropped it and moved, he'd be disarmed in a matter of seconds. Sonic rifles were hard to fire when moving, you had to have stability at all times or so she'd been told, and everything she'd seen confirmed this.
Arwyn was moving only seconds after firing her weapon, her shots would naturally reach him first but, they were only a distraction. She was the real threat and she intended to finish him off in a glorious battle of close combat. There was no hesitating for this Mandalorian woman, she'd been trained in pressure points by a Twi'lek and in Gammorrean Wrestling by a Gammorrean. She would win, she had no doubt. She fired again to keep him distracted, and reached back for a punch that would contain all her strength and as she closed the distance, Alderaan's sun rose up over the rooftops slowly. Arwyn grinned "My turn" then she struck.
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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
Master
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Jun 28, 2010 20:44:50 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Jun 28, 2010 20:44:50 GMT -5
Jazen sat somewhere in between the world of the living and the world of the imagination. Things floated around him, some with distinct shapes for a moment before they faded into obscurity, others that began that way only to take a shape a moment later. Voices were blurred, more sounds that he could not understand than words with meaning. He was aware of some nagging connection, something that probed at him from a distance not that far away. For a moment, Jazen was afraid this was the last thing people saw before dying. That he was dying. Then his rational mind kicked in and Jazen remembered where he was.
He was in the room the staff at the spaceport lounge had offered to them to use, mainly for the recovering Blanche. Jazen was on the floor, his back to one of the room's four corners, his legs crossed. Blanche, as still in the Force as she was in the room, rested in the makeshift bed the staff had prepared for her. In addition to the warm bed and blanket, Blanche's wet clothing had been replaced as well. Now she was quietly resting, her presence in the Force finally one of calm. He touched her with the Force, let its fingers not only tell him her condition, but make sure to extend his own feelings of comfort to her. There was a slight tinge of fear still residing within her, as there was one within him and most likely Locke as well. But mostly, she was at peace, for the first time in what must have felt like an eternity to her.
After they had gotten her settled, Locke had been ushered off himself to receive treatment for his own injuries. Locke had tried to protest, not wanting to leave Blanche alone, but even he could not deny that he needed medical attention. Finally, he had given in, instructing Jazen to remain and keep his eye on their ward. And so here he was. Jazen himself wasn't in such great shape, exhaustion gnawing at him like a hungry beast. So he'd settled himself into this corner and slipped into a healing trance, making sure to leave enough of his mind available to sense if danger was coming. He must have fully dozed for a few minutes or so, since there was a brief void in his memory. Some part of him was ashamed at letting it happen, but the other part of him knew it was going to happen sooner or later. It hadn't been danger that had woken him though; the feeling of something approaching had, something familiar. Locke.
Jazen turned his head towards the door to the room they were in, feeling Locke coming step by step. Jazen reached out gently towards his Master, leaving a guiding trail for him to follow to them. Then he directed his attention back to Blanche, retracting the tendrils of the Force he was extending to her. The brief rest he had gotten had soothed some of his aches, but he was far from one hundred percent yet. He turned the Force back onto him, letting its graceful touch ease his aches, his pains, his exhaustion. He hoped with all his might that this was the end, that they could get Blanche off world safely, to a place where the Hutt's would never be able to reach her. But he wouldn't be caught by surprise again. That he was sure of.
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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 6, 2010 23:43:44 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jul 6, 2010 23:43:44 GMT -5
The Shadowman’s weapon exploded in a shower of sparks, and he hissed lowly. Damn human.Distracted, the woman’s next blow caught the creature off-guard. The black cloak billowed and caved at the blow, and a sharp snap! echoed through the air as the insect’s carapace fractured. The shadowman grimaced, his yellow eyes narrowing. It was not enough to stop the creature, not quite, but it felt the liquid oozing from the fracture. The Shadowman’s pride bled with its body. If this was going to end favorably, it needed to end quickly -- this the creature concluded as it recovered from reeling. A right punch, a left kick -- trying to keep the left and fractured side of its abdomen as still as possible. The creature was slowed, and vulnerable, and it knew it. Dread spilled through the shadowed soul. Would it become another? Another ambitious, but chronically foolish hunter to get themselves killed? Probably. And the Shadowman did not like it. ----=----=----=-+-=----=----=---- Blanche was vaguely aware of the shift from arms to dense cushion, and even more vaguely aware of the shift from wet garb to dry. She remarked, somewhere in half-conscious, that perhaps the padawan had been good for something, having offered to her his cloak. Everything now was vague and drifting, even the sounds -- the combined effect of exhaustion, and the fact that Blanche had water in her ears. And then came something that was absolutely, definitely, the complete converse of vague. Pain shot like lightning through her abdomen, followed by dull throbs of thunder. Her whole body stiffened defensively, and yet again, epinephrine flooded her system, yanking her into complete awareness. She became aware of the young nurse standing over her, the girl’s expression shocked at the formerly-sedate Blanche’s sudden reaction. After a moment, Blanche broke the silent with an emphatic “ Ouch.” The nurse quickly regained her wit. “At least two of your ribs are fractured. After your dip in the river, I have to make sure your lungs are working properly.” Blanche wished the Dashade’s body was near so she could spit on it. He’d hardly been gentle when he’d hauled her over his shoulder, and no doubt it was his manhandling, the constant jab of his shoulder into her stomach, that had snapped a few ribs. That itself was an injury she probably could have handled, but to make matters even better, the entire front of her abdomen was bruised and raw, and every breath felt like a gut punch. Blanche tried to steel herself, and gave an expression that communicated begrudging consent. “Now take a deep breath.” Blanche tried. She really did. But it felt like her chest was being ripped in two, and her lungs emptied with a pained yelp, whole body tensing. “You’re not leaving here ‘till you do this.” “But it hurts!” “Don’t be a child!” “I will be a child if I want to, thank-you-very-much-good-day.” Blanche huffed. Which, of course, made her chest throb, and reduced her pout to a wince. “Well then find something to distract yourself.” Clear exasperation. “Hum a song. Find something to look at. Then breathe.” She added a deadpan “Please.” Blanche hauled herself into a half-sitting position. If there had been any rest in her bones a moment ago, it was gone now. Alright then. She could find something to look at. She saw the Padawan, a few of the guards being attended to -- Kriff, that stethoscope was cold -- medical personnel, yada yada yada. Her eyes drifted towards the wall to her right. In the background lay the ocean, beyond a broad pane of glass. Closer to the foreground was the thing that really caught her attention, though. Shamelessly, she observed the Jedi, noting his bare torso. Half a shaky breath, then her muscles froze. No, she could do this. The rest of a breath. He had well-toned muscles that moved smoothly under his olive skin. Definitely an attractive man. Breathing out was easier, but it still hurt. Then another breath, hesitating, wincing. She couldn’t help but notice that the Jedi already bore two clear scars, the larger running across his back, and the smaller on his shoulder. Surely, the Jedi were willing to pay the ultimate price. To protect those that could not protect themselves. Something in that beckoned to Blanche, beckoned to her like the strips of gauze that were being wrapped around two new wounds. Two new scars. Two scars because of her. Blanche’s exhausted mind could make no sense of it. These thoughts covered her next exhale. In something of a Freudian event, Blanche heard and understood the Jedi’s next words even from across the room; "I was always told that women liked scars!" Blanche suddenly remembered something about Jedi -- they could read minds, couldn’t they? Her stomach churned -- or maybe it was just the nurse prodding her again -- and she could feel the hot, hot blood in her face as she blushed. She forgot to breath this time. “Again?” Prodded the nurse, and Blanche hastily breathed in again, the effort dissolving into a yelp and wince. “Are you alright? You look flushed.” “I’m just dandy.” The nurse looked at her skeptically, but must have concluded it had to do with the breathing thing, as she didn’t press the point. “We’ll put you on antibiotics to combat whatever bugs your lungs picked up from the river, as well as the possibility of pnemonia or--” “One more thi--” “Do you want to drown in your own lung fluid?” said the nurse in a too-sweet voice. Blanche shot her a murderous look, but protested no more. “Now,” continued the nurse, “Touch your nose with your right index finger.” Blanche continued with the glare, but was too exhausted to protest. Physically, anyway. She touched her nose. “Now the left index finger. Good. Now wiggle the toes of your right foot. Good. Now your left. Good. Now, close your eyes, and touch your nose again with your right index finger.” “You’re treating me like a--” “ Right index finger!” Blanche was shocked into obedience, and did so. She couldn’t resign entirely though. “What exactly is the point of this?” “Intel told us you were under a sedative for a while. Checking for any neurological side effects. You show a chronic complaining disorder, but unfortunately, I don’t have the authorization to treat that.” The nurse looked like she knew exactly what she wanted to dose Blanche with, so Blanche just sighed, slumping back, and then wincing as the movement shifted her ribs. The nurse stepped away to attend to something, and Blanche leaned back into exhaustion. It came around her sort of like a cloud, soft, fluffy, comforting--- “Augh!” Blanche gasped back awake. It felt like her whole left arm was on fire! She jerked it back, just to be met by another one of the nurse’s scolding looks. “Hold still!” The nurse was using a bit of cotton to smooth something over her arm and it stung! Blanche moaned. “Multiple lacerations,” the nurse explained. “Thankfully mild. They need to be cleaned.” Blanche muttered something and rolled her eyes around the room, trying to find another something to focus on. To her left was a solider, being similarly treated. Except he didn’t look like his arm was getting covered in acid. “How come he doesn’t get the stuff that stings and I do!” Blanche huffed. The nurse smirked. “Your lacerations were exposed to more bacteria. They need to be more thoroughly cleaned.” Blanche resigned to flop her head against the cushion in misery. “You fixing it hurts more than tearing it up in the first place,” she muttered, her final stand. The nurse sighed and finished bandaging the deeper of Blanche’s cuts. Blanche felt a sharp prick, and it must have been pain killers. Pain was the last thing holding Blanche conscious, and as soon as it was gone, the world rippled and was black. It was odd how something so small, something so pitiful -- that pale Arkanian girl -- could cause so much trouble. How deceiving appearances could be. Who would have thought that the mind of that creature was not as weak as the body? The mind that, over the years, had painstakingly gathered so much information. Had faithfully cataloged so many incriminating bits of evidence. A spirit driven by revenge, rather than nobility, but when she’d had to convince the whole world she was broken, it was the only thing that had prevented it from becoming so. Now that mind slept, dreamless rest. How vulnerable was that mind, tied to a mortal body. So many things could end that mind, and so quickly. But it seems, sometimes, that a strong mind draws the attention of Fate, and even more seldom, draws its favor. Perhaps that had finally happened today. Her body was warm and dried by caring hands, and for a small moment at least... her mind was warm and dried by safety. Never more vulnerable, the exhausted chest that rose and fell with shallow, but steady breaths. Yet never more safe. How long would it last, this thing more fragile than mortality?
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Cirith An'Gol
"You got something for me? or are you just another slack jawed arruetti admiring my armor"-Cirith
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last online May 31, 2020 19:14:38 GMT -5
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Jul 11, 2010 18:01:37 GMT -5
Post by Cirith An'Gol on Jul 11, 2010 18:01:37 GMT -5
Arwyn wasn't sure which split the Shadowman's carapace first, her blaster fire or the impact from her fist, or the combination of the two, either way the insectoid alien was wounded, bleeding and the sonic blaster was in peices on the ground. All of which were very good things in her eyes. The Shadowman stumbled back from her assualt, it's yellow juices oozing from the wound and plopping on the ground.
Arwyn came in again blocking a right handed punch, and striking back with a right cross, only to be lifted into the air, and toppled to the ground as the Shadowman launched a left kick, catching her in the abdomen. The impact was cushioned mostly by her armor but, she could already tell that had the kick been any higher she would've bruised some ribs. The female Mandalorian kick flipped up and launched another punch at her foe, this time in a sharp left jab.
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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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Jul 18, 2010 17:08:52 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 18, 2010 17:08:52 GMT -5
The relative quiet of the spaceport was music to Locke's ears. He walked through the makeshift medical ward, looking not only at the medical personnel that scurried to and fro, but at the people that had been brought here. Most were security officers that had been wounded in the fighting, but there were some poor souls, faces scattered here and there amongst those of the officers, that could only be civilians. Innocents, all of them.
And for what? he asked himself, sticking his thumbs behind his belt. Because there was a hunt for some frightened girl they've never met and they just happened to be in the way? Locke shook his head sadly. It was always a shame when innocent people were caught in the crossfire for no other reason than that they'd been living their lives. But, unfortunately, it was unavoidable, inevitable. Especially when bomb-crazed maniacs like the man that bombed the university where involved with things. Thinking about the number of casualties from that made Locke shudder.
He could see Blanche and Jazen now, off on the other side of the room. His path adjusted accordingly, and he moved off, thinking for all the world that he'd be with them in a matter of seconds. But things had a way of happening when Locke least expected.
"Excuse me? Mister?"
Locke paused, looking about for the source of the voice that called him. It was definitely male, but too high to belong to anything but a young boy.
"Over here, mister," the voice called again, and Locke spun around to find the boy.
The kid was young, with a face that couldn't have him as any older than six or seven. His eyes were a dark green and he had a mop of sandy brown hair atop his head. His nose was far too wide and flat, his eyes too small, and his misshapen head looked like someone had tried to beat it into proper form against an anvil.
He was, quite possibly, one of the ugliest children Locke had ever seen.
But it was an endearing sort of ugly, so surely that counted for something, right?
Locke's face remained straight as he strode over to the kid, who was sitting with his mother (who was nearly as ugly as he was). There was a pang of remorse in his heart when he noticed the bloodstained gauze wrapped around the boy's temple, along with the sling that held his arm.
"Hey there," said Locke, nodding to the boy and his mother in turn. He crouched down before them and smiled, ever the kind, polite Jedi if there was one. "How can I help you?"
"Well, Thad saw yo-"
"Are you a Jedi?" the kid burst in, running over his mother's statement with an overly-enthused curiosity. "I saw your lightsaber!" He pointed toward Locke's waist, where the hilt of his blade hung, free for all to see. "Or I think that's a lightsaber. Only Jedi use those, right? But you're not dressed like the stories say Jedi dress. Where's your cloak? And why do you have a gun?"
Locke smiled warmly at the barrage of questions, forgetting all the hardships he'd gone through, if only for a moment. He offered a glance to Thad's mother, who only shook her head amusedly. Then he looked at the boy, who stared at him with the sort of curiosity that young boys can often have.
"Yes, Thad, I'm a Jedi. You're in that this," he unclipped the hilt of his saber from his belt and held it up, "is my lightsaber. My clothing's a bit different for the time being, but it's not the brown robes that make a Jedi a Jedi, you know." A wry smile grew on his face when he clipped his lightsaber back onto his belt. "Nor are we forbidden from using firearms, like the one I have."
Thad was quiet for a few moments, his young mind trying to slog through the sea of questions that no doubt filled it. "Well, were you here to stop the big lizard man? He wasn't very nice. He just came in and started hurting people, and he had this girl on one of his shoulders! I hope she's okay..."
"She's fine," Locke said softly, reassuringly. "And he's been taken care of. Was the lizard man the one that hurt you?"
"Inadvertently, yes," said Thad's mother. She might not have been the prettiest thing to look at, but her face was kind and soft, as was her voice. "He threw a grenade that landed near us. Thankfully no one was killed, but shrapnel hit some of the people around us. That's what happened to Thad here."
"I see," Locke said, sighing. "It's a shame that all of this had to happen, and here of all places, but it's done now. I hope his injuries aren't too severe?"
"No, no, nothing to worry about. Just a cut across his temple and another on his wrist. The nurse said he would be just fine."
"Well that's good." Locke flashed a smile at Thad and tousled his hair. "Well now you've got a battle story to tell the ladies when you're older, eh? They won't tell you this, but they love a good action story." Thad's mother only laughed and shook her head.
Locke stood to his feet with a sigh and nodded to both the boy and his mother. "Well, it's been good talking to both of you, and I'm glad you're both alright, but I have business that must be attended to at the moment."
Thad and his mother said their goodbyes and once again Locke was striding toward Jazen and Blanche. He arrived after making the short walk across the rest of the lobby. Jazen was there, sitting with his back against one of the walls. Pride swelled for a moment when Locke saw his pupil. This was their first mission together. It had been much more difficult than probably either of them expected, what with the way everything kept going wrong, but they'd pulled through. So far, anyway. Jazen had done well tonight.
Blanche was there as well, but she was quiet now, sleeping. For once, she looked to be at peace. Whether or not she actually was was something that was beyond Locke and known only to her, but she certainly looked more peaceful than she had all night. Locke was content to leave her be for now and walked to stand by Jazen instead.
"How are you holding up, kid?" He sighed and turned around, leaning against the wall behind him and folding his arms across his chest. Now he was a bit more rested than he'd been a little while ago, but he was still very tired; it was the difference between wanting to go pass out in a bed and just feeling like he was going to pass out.
"It's been a long night--a hard night at that, but we're finally close to being out of the woods, I think; not that that's helped us any tonight. Still, once she's awake we can look into getting transportation out of here and get her to safety." There was a thoughtful pause as he studied her, and then he looked down to Jazen. "Were you able to hear how she's doing?"
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
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Jul 18, 2010 18:19:43 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Jul 18, 2010 18:19:43 GMT -5
(I has like no idea what to do here, so this is gonna be kinda suck)
While waiting for Locke to arrive, Jazen had slipped back into his healing trance, letting the Force and a form of sleep tend to the cracks in his weary body. Exhaustion came first, his trance pumping fresh air into his lungs, releasing the tension his muscles had built up. In his mind, he located the major sources of pain and focused on them intently. It flowed new life into these bruises and aches, numbing the pain till it healed of its own accord. Despite being focused on this task, his mind wasn't completely lost to it. Some of it was still tuned to reality, allowing him to catch most of what happened inside of the small area.
Jazen almost broke out of his trance while the nurse tended to Blanche. If her reactions hadn't been....so childish, Jazen might have been able to simply ignore them. But as she whined about how something hurt or how come she was getting abused while others weren't, Jazen let a small chuckle escape him, slipping him from his trance. Another one escaped as a result of listening to how the nurse handled Blanche's protests. He shook his head to hide the smile brimming on his face, then tried to slip back into his trance.
As Blanche settled into another sleep, Jazen returned to his own, but he turned his attention to something he had felt while Blanche was being treated. He had felt her eyes drift somewhere, turning her attention on another being in the medical area. Only when he heard Locke's booming voice did he realize where she had turned her attention. And that's when he felt the odd feeling emit from the woman; it tasted of embarrassment. Why would she be embarrassed? Was she ashamed of having caused so much trouble? Or perhaps she was ashamed to have to be saved in such a manner that resembled a story of fable? Or perhaps...she liked looking at Master Locke's body?
Jazen shook his head to clear these thoughts from his mind. What she felt or didn't feel was her business. And since it wasn't directed at him, he considered it to be a matter he shouldn't pry into. At least not yet. His mind cleared and once again he found himself into that would of illusion, caught between reality and dreams.
The feeling of Locke at his side broke him from it once again, but he kept part of himself focused on mending himself while he turned his head to listen to Locke. He could sense the weariness that took his body had gripped Locke as well, but his Master was stronger, both physically and in the Force. He could take a lot more than Jazen, which was probably why he wasn't in a healing trance as well, despite his greater injures.
"She's more or less fine. Beat up and bruised, but nothing life threatening. I wouldn't wait for her to wake up on her own though; we should get her out of her as soon as possible. We don't know if we are truly in the clear yet and if we aren't, this place would be the worst place for someone to make a move on her.
But its your choice. If you want her to rest, then that's what we'll do. I just don't like sitting here waiting for something else to happen is all. Oh, and I'm fine. Thanks for asking."
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Kella
Fire and Blood
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Jul 27, 2010 0:27:26 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jul 27, 2010 0:27:26 GMT -5
The woman recovered again, and attacked, again.
Her fist cracked into the shadowman again. Its yellow eyes narrowed, teeth grinding and clicking. Perhaps this was not going to be so easy. Fluid oozed slowly out of this other, new crack. Perhaps this was not going to end so well.
The creature's hand emerged from its cloak with a glint. The shine of metal. A dagger.
Or maybe this would end in shadow's favor after all.
The shadowman lunged at the woman's throat, eyes glinting with a malice sharp as the palmed steel.
The yellow blush of dawn pooled at the shadowman's feet.
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Cirith An'Gol
"You got something for me? or are you just another slack jawed arruetti admiring my armor"-Cirith
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Jul 27, 2010 21:40:10 GMT -5
Post by Cirith An'Gol on Jul 27, 2010 21:40:10 GMT -5
This time Arwyn knew for sure what cracked the Shadowman's natural armor as her fist made another impact. She was almost tempted to let down her guard, but the insectoid brought another dagger out from beneath his cloak.
Milliseconds later he was lunging at her neck. His eyes shown with a malice that could pierce as well as any blade, if he could've seen into her helmet he might've been confused, for Arwyn's expression was that of delight.
Arwyn was having fun.
She realized the tactical advantage she had over his lunge instantly. She'd tried such a manuever on her Gammorean mentor at one time. Needless to say he'd pounded that instinct out of her, when she'd tried it.
Her training kicked in and she side-stepped the attack easily, catching his wrist, twisting it hard enough to where most people would drop the weapon or let their wrist be broken, and placed her other hand on the back of his neck. Then she began pulling his arm around behind his back to where she'd have a near perfect grapple on him while she kicked at the back of his knees. If everything worked, she'd be staring at a dead insectoid with a broken neck.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Aug 3, 2010 10:59:59 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Aug 3, 2010 10:59:59 GMT -5
Locke listened to Jazen and nodded. At this point, everything depended on when Blanche woke up. They'd still have to wait for a ship to be readied for them, but if she didn't wake up soon, then they would just have to carry her out and keep going. Locke didn't have any intentions of having yet another unforeseen disaster fall onto their heads. He really didn't want to deal with another one.
"Tell me," he started looking up to the nurse that was busy working near Blanche, "how long do you think she'll be out?"
The nurse looked at Locke for a long moment as she considered his question. "I can't say. All I know is that if I were her, and I'd been through some of the things she has, I'd be out until this time tomorrow at least."
"Oh. Right." Locke sighed and came up off of the wall, stretching out his tired muscles with a weary yawn. "Well then, I guess that means we'll be carrying her, doesn't it?" He laughed softly and scratched at his beard absentmindedly as he looked down at the girl who'd been the source of so much trouble. "At least she's light."
Before he scooped her up, he pulled a com device from his pocket and turned it on.
"Hello?" came the voice of one of the guard captains that were stationed around the spaceport.
"Hey, this is Locke. Knight Locke, if that's what you need. We've rescued the girl from the river, and now we need a ride out of here. Any chance you could help us out with that. You know, with the traffic in and out of the spaceport being restricted and all that..."
"You're the Jedi, right?" the captain responded, which got a roll of Locke's eyes and an annoyed confirmation in return. "Right. We can get a ship ready that can take you back to Coruscant. It's gonna take a few minutes. Might still have to wait for a moment when you get here, depending on how long it takes you to make the trip. Where are you heading out from. Where are you now?"
"We are in...." Locke's voice trailed off as he looked around. "The main south lobby on the east half of the spaceport."
"Yeah, we might have it ready by the time you get here. If it's not, it'll be close. I'll have some men by it to keep the area secure."
"Many thanks," Locke said, and then the com went quiet.
"Well," he said, speaking to everyone and no one in particular in the room as he leaned down to take Blanche into his arms once more, "it's been a truly exhilarating night, but I fear I must say farewell to you, Alderaan. Yours are memories I shan't be forgetting any time soon."
He looked to Jazen and smiled, glad that they were, seemingly, finally on the final leg of their journey. "Let's get out of here, kid."
As they walked, Locke dared to let relief start to fill his being. Perhaps, if fate was kind, they would finally be able to get out of this Force-forsaken city and take Blanche to safety.
But then again, how often was fate kind?
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Jazen
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Aug 16, 2010 17:46:08 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Aug 16, 2010 17:46:08 GMT -5
Jazen didn't move from the spot he had chosen, nor made any attempt to look at Locke as he spoke. Part of him was still in that healing trance, mending what he could as fast as he could. There was no real substitute for modern medicine and care, but it would at least ensure that if something did happen, he had the stamina and strength to face it.
Still, he was paying attention to what Locke and the nurse were saying. And when she said it would probably be best if she rested till at least tomorrow, Jazen sighed in exhaustion. Another day here meant that another problem could drop right into their lap. And another. And another. How many times could they get lucky before they finally failed? With each event, one or more of them would most likely get hurt again, require time to heal and the cycle would repeat again. Until, as he said, luck ran dry.
He was about to suggest just heaving the woman onto their backs and hitching a ride on the first ship they could out of here when Locke did it for him. Jazen couldn't hide his relief, both in the Force or on his person. A weary sigh of relief escaped his lips and his body surged with a newfound strength. Finally, they could leave and get away from this planet; as beautiful as it was, Jazen had seen enough of it for a while.
He let Locke arrange for their way off the planet while he rose to stand, making sure he had the items of most importance on him. Lightsaber, his gear, the clothes on his back. Pretty much what every Jedi considered important. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, Jazen bowed to the nurse, thanking her for her efforts. He tried to ignore Locke's little eulogy, but caught it anyway and made sure Locke wasn't looking at him when he rolled his eyes.
Falling into step behind his Master, who was cradling the sleeping Blanche in his arms, Jazen stretched his arms above his head as they headed off for the spaceport and hopefully, their ride home. He prayed to the Force that that would be the extent of their adventures of this planet.
" Right behind you Master."
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Kella
Fire and Blood
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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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Sept 1, 2010 23:15:54 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Sept 1, 2010 23:15:54 GMT -5
The sound was a sick, squelching crack. It had interrupted a hiss of pain and defiance. The shadowman fell to the ground and was silent. A milky yellow fluid oozed slowly from the cracks in its exo-skeleton, darkening the concrete of the roof. Thus ended the first and last day of the shadow's great and mighty career.
---=----=----=---
Blanche dreampt.
She dreampt of home. She stood on the roof of the city's easternmost building. Sixty feet in the air, she felt like she was flying. The sea stretched past the horizon, more vast than space. The ice sloshed at the edges in massive flows, clinging to the edges like cobwebs.
The wind carried bits of sharp ice, and as it raced across her skin, the ice stung. The cold dug down to her core. It was so refreshing, so soothing...
The dream changed without her really aware of the change, as dreams so often do.
She was on a boat, in the middle of the ocean. The ice and the white was all around, with cool undertones of blue. The boat was like a swan, with sweeping white curves. Her mother was there, and her father, and they were laughing. And the Jedi was there. All the people who had ever made her feel safe.
She was in the water, and the cold sent a shiver down her spine. Her hair swirled in front of her face, likes strands of kelp in the ways. She was sinking and sinking and sinking, and the water got darker and darker, and she felt calmer and calmer, even as the sunlight that sparkled on the surface above grew dimmer and dimmer.
She was falling. The blackness all around her, her gut tossed and she knew she was falling.
Blanche gasped, her muscles tensed. First came the shock, the world was not empty and black. And then came the rationalization, the understanding that she was not falling, and that it had been a dream.
She looked around, and past the haze in her eyes, she saw the inside of a ship... with small spaces and tight metal curves... Now this was reality. She was in the Jedi's arms again -- her brain didn't need much help drawing that conclusion. Her eyes ached, so she let them slide shut. She'd stay awake. She didn't want to miss this, the ship, the Jedi. Blanche was warm now.
A thought rose in her mind like a leaf drifting just below the surface. She wasn't in her own clothes anymore, rather, something cottony, that covered her wrists and her ankles and didn't leave her so open to the chill. It wasn't really related, or important, but...
But... what was she thinking about? Warm things...
Staying awake... she was going to...
Drift away again. Back into the dreams.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Sept 2, 2010 20:35:56 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Sept 2, 2010 20:35:56 GMT -5
Quiet.
For once, in this night that had seemed to stretch on into a lifetime, there was quiet. No one was chasing after the girl. No one was shooting at him. He wasn't getting the life beaten out of him, nor was he being swept away against a current that threatened to push him out to sea.
Nope. Not now.
The halls of the spaceport were quiet; eerily so, considering the fighting that had filled them only an hour or so before. Rather than screams, they were filled with the gentle tap, tap, tap of Locke and Jazen's boots as they walked toward the ship that was being prepared for them.
What a night, Locke thought, looking down at the girl that was resting in his arms. Even though the salve the nurse applied to his chest did wonders for dulling the pain, he could still feel little lances of fire darting out from his wounds as he carried her along. They weren't too bad, though; he'd certainly been through worse.
One of the guards met them about half way to the ship and joined them, with three other men in tow. They stayed a fair distance away--near enough to provide adequate protection, but far enough away to keep from choking the two Jedi. All except for their leader, who alongside Locke, to the Investigator's right.
"Busy night, eh?" the guard asked, after a few long moments of silence.
Locke glanced over to him. He was a Nikto, with greenish-brown scaly skin. "It has," Locke said, offering a bit of a smile and a weary sigh. "But it's finally coming to an end now... Hopefully." The Knight snickered at some joke only he knew and then glanced to the Nikto again, amusement obvious in his eyes. "Don't suppose I could write out a travel brochure for this lovely town, could I?"
The Nikto snorted a laugh. "To draw in tourists with tales of bombings and shootouts? Yes, Jedi, I think the city council would love that."
"Well, you could never forget the place, now could you? And the canals are so romantic," Locke replied, laughing. "It's been one hell of a ride, that's for sure."
They rounded a corner and went into one of the hangars, and therein was the ship, waiting for them. "Here's your ride, Jedi." The Nikto stopped by the door and turned to face Locke. "She'll take you back to Coruscant."
"Thanks for all the help. Both from you and all of your men." Locke smiled a bit, but his expression suddenly fell as he shook his head sadly. "It's a shame so many of them died or got hurt tonight."
"Yeah..." The Nikto nodded somberly. "But it's our duty to keep the people safe. Not so different than your own, eh?"
"No, I suppose not." Locke grinned again. "I would shake your hand, but," he lifted Blanche gently, indication her presence in his arms, "I'd hate to wake her up. So I guess I'll just have to settle with a farewell." He nodded at the guard and turned, heading off toward the open ramp of the ship that would take them away, to safety. "Come on, Jazen, let's get out of here."
A few minutes later, and they were on board. Locke stood near a window, Blanche still in his arms as the ship shuddered and slowly lifted up. As they left the space port, he could see the buildings of the city stretched out before him, arrayed in the growing light of the early morning. Off in the distance, there were still lingering fingers of smoke rising up from the university.
"What a night," he muttered again, turning to go to the back. There, he found a room and laid Blanche down gently on a bed. He started to leave once she was down, but paused in the door way to look back at her. Funny that such a small girl was the cause of so much trouble. But it was worth it. Locke knew that, if he had to do it again, to endure the pain and the frustration, he would. It was his duty, and in the end, it'd only make her life better.
And that, he thought as he left the room, leaving her in peace, is something worth getting a little banged up for.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
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Sept 3, 2010 21:04:49 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Sept 3, 2010 21:04:49 GMT -5
During the long walk through the spaceport, Jazen did two things. The first was keep his eyes on every nook and shadow that he could see, his ears straining to hear anything other than the loud thuds of their footsteps. His hand rested on the hilt of his saber, ready to draw it in an instant should something give him reason. The port was eerily quiet and it gave Jazen a chill; not one of fear but one of expectancy. Every time they had thought they were safe today, something else had risen up to make them suffer once again. Deep within him, a pray was being sung in the hopes that nothing else happened today.
The other thing he was doing was fighting off his bodies huge urge to just drop and rest. He may have regained enough strength to stand and walk, but no meditation would ever truly be a substitute for a good nights sleep. Only by force of will and a constant nudge from the Force kept him standing tall.
Halfway to the ship, they were joined by a small escort of the spaceports guards. Considering how the day had gone, Jazen was both pleased and disappointed to see them. On the plus side, if things got bad, they could get the men to take Blanche to the ship while they dealt with whatever happened. On the other side, it meant more people they might have to protect. And he knew his body wouldn't be able to handle that stress.
Jazen was only partially aware of the conversation between Locke and the lead guard, his attention and stamina being used to perform his aforementioned tasks. Luckily, it didn't take them long to reach the ship they had been given to take Blanche off world. Jazen was up the ramp before Locke could even get to it, checking to make sure there weren't any surprises waiting for them at what was suppose to be their sign of relief. To his joy, there was nothing he could find wrong and no danger swelled in the Force. For all intents and purposes, it was the first time that there wasn't a prickling at the back of his neck. Locke was close to follow him into the ship, Blanche in tow. Nodding to the guards once to acknowledge them, Jazen hit the ramp switch and headed off into the craft.
Minutes later, the ship was making for orbit, where it would plot a course for Coruscant. To home. Locke had taken Blanche to lay her down on the bed in the back of the ship. That was fine; Jazen didn't need a proper resting place. As soon as the ship had cleared the city, he had found himself a corner, sat himself down in it and drifted into what possibly was going to be the deepest sleep he had ever entered. About time too.
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Cirith An'Gol
"You got something for me? or are you just another slack jawed arruetti admiring my armor"-Cirith
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Sept 4, 2010 22:16:19 GMT -5
Post by Cirith An'Gol on Sept 4, 2010 22:16:19 GMT -5
Arwyn twisted hard, the Shadowman Assassin caught in her hold, a second later there was a sickening crack as the insects neck broke in her unusually strong hands. The Mandalorian sighed heavily, grateful the fight had finally ended, though inside she mourned the loss of a skilled fighter.
He would be remembered as a worthy foe and honored as such. Arwyn nodded to the fallen fighter and left, crawling into a maintenance hatch and following the path until she came to a way out. She punched open the metal grating and dropped down onto the floor ten feet or so below. She landed in a crouch, her legs taking most of the impact and ringing because of it.
Switching to Locke's frequency she called him up "Jedi Locke, are you there? This is Arwyn An'Gol. I've taken care of a Shadowman assassin that was after Blanche. Give me your current location and I'll join you" Arwyn said as she walked the length of a hallway, looking for an exit that lead out onto the bridge. She found it easily enough and walked through the automatic doors. The bridge was ruined but, fortunately there was still enough left of it to get across and into the main spaceport "and don't even think of taking off without me Jedi, remember I know where you live" she added as an after thought.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Sept 11, 2010 16:57:16 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Sept 11, 2010 16:57:16 GMT -5
Locke's comm buzzed in his pocket as he made his way out of the room that he left Blanche in and back up to the front of the ship. Arwyn's voice crackled over it, asking for his location and carrying a not-so-subtle threat. Not that it worried him; short of charging the Temple in a one-man suicide rush, there wasn't anything she could do to him.
"Ah, yes, Arwyn." He paused near one of the viewports to take a last look at the rolling terrain and the sea below. The blue of the sky was starting to give way to the black of space as the vessel left the atmosphere. It was a beautiful, picturesque scene--one that made even Locke, city-slicker that he was appreciate the beauty that the natural world held.
Unfortunately for Arwyn, it also put the girl quite out of reach.
"You're just a tad late. See, the problem with moving into deep space is that it makes it hard for someone else to catch up if they miss the ride, no? The girl is fine, though. Perhaps that will suffice for whoever it was that sent you, perhaps not." He fell silent for a moment, mulling things over as they flew ever higher, and ever deeper into space. "Of course, my mission description did include bringing the girl back to the Temple, so I would've had to get her somehow anyway. That and I'm a little higher than you on the pecking order, being an official agent of the Republic and all that. Nothing personal, mind you. Just doing my job.
"And, unless you've been living under a rock for your entire life, I would imagine that you know where I live." He laughed a bit at that. "It's not like it's a secret. Feel free to stop by one day and we'll chat over some coffee, alright?"
They were out of Alderaan's atmosphere completely now, and quickly leaving the planet's gravity well. The comm was starting to crackle with static, now that it was being carried out of range."But in all seriousness, I wish you well in your future endeavors, Arwyn."
The comm went out. Locke shrugged and put it back in his pocket and stood there, watching Alderaan shrink as they pulled away from it.
Finally. It was finally over. They'd only spent a night there, but it felt like an eternity, with the way everything seemed to keep going wrong.
But it all worked out in the end, Locke mused as the shape of Alderaan distorted and the stars stretched out into thin streaks of light. And in the end, I guess that's all that really matters.
------------------------------------------------------------
"Locke Nemsee, mission report oh-five-seven-nine."
He stood in a room that was, other than him, empty. There was a holorecorder pointed at him, one that would send his report of to Corsuscant once it finished recording.
"The mission was a success. A hard-fought one, but success nonetheless. We have Blanche safely in hand, though, and we're en route to Coruscant.
As was orignally suspected, we weren't the only ones after her. The Hutt decided to hire a number of mercenaries to go after her, and in the enusing fun a university was bombed, and the spaceport assaulted." He snorted roughly and shook his head. "I'm almost surprised that his fat ass didn't show up with the way people kept crawling out of the woodworks. In any event, I'm sure we'll discuss this in more detail once I arrive at the Temple.
Locke Nemsee, signing out."
The lights came back on slowly and he sighed. They had a few hours yet till they reached Coruscant. Locke left that empty room and went to the back, seeking out one of the beds.
He intended to spend every minute of that trip sleeping.
[and with that, I'm done with Locke :3 been fun, folks]
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Cirith An'Gol
"You got something for me? or are you just another slack jawed arruetti admiring my armor"-Cirith
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last online May 31, 2020 19:14:38 GMT -5
Knight
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Sept 12, 2010 21:48:15 GMT -5
Post by Cirith An'Gol on Sept 12, 2010 21:48:15 GMT -5
The End of an Amazing Race[/u][/url] Arwyn cursed, her fight with the Shadowman Assassin took longer than she thought, and she'd missed Blanche. She had to smile at Locke's bravado and ease with which he'd taken her, though. Finally coming outside of the spaceport she looked up into the sky as if to try and find Locke's ship "Locke... take care of her and good hunting" she said sincerely into the comm, even though she knew he was close to out of range by now. She had to admit, she rather liked him. For a Force user anyway. Not that she'd reveal that to anyone. She shook her head and smiled, her face concealed by her helmet. She walked to her docked ship, put in her security codes and entered. She walked to the cockpit and called up her employers comm on the control console "A Shadowman Assassin interrupted my hunt and I lost the girl to the Jedi but, I can get her back, I know where they are heading" she said simply, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her employer's silhouette was cast in deep shadows hiding her identity. Arwyn's employer though was most definitely a woman based on how slim the body was. "Don't worry about it, Blanche is in safe hands now. Your fee has been approved and transmitted to your account. Farewell Arwyn An'Gol of the Mandalorians, I shall pass word of your actions onto others and give them my recommendation, thank you for your services." "Thank you and good hunting" Arwyn said, a second later the holoprojector cut out. A minute after that her AI "winter" reported the transfer of fifty thousand credits into her bank account. With that she powered up the drives and left for Taris, reading over a message she'd received about another job.
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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
Master
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Dec 6, 2010 0:18:28 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Dec 6, 2010 0:18:28 GMT -5
Epilogue
The bounty hunter woman had indeed left for Taris. However, she hadn't even made it out of Alderaan's atmosphere before the shadow of a behemouth ship loomed over her. Alderaan, being the planet that it was, did not take kindly to having holes blasted in the roof of its spaceport. Nor were the spaceport guards stupid -- they'd sent out an Attempt-To-Locate, with the details of the woman and her ship, and as with most such protocols, the ALP did its job.
The true punishment for the woman was not so much the time in the holding cell, but the paperwork. And the bill.
A judge oversaw the case, and in the end, he had selected his justice. The woman would pay the cost to repair the roof. In the end, the total came out surprisingly even -- fifty-thousand credits exactly.
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Je'Baru, his Twi'lek girl, and the robot left the planet unnoticed. The robot never did realize that the hair she'd plucked was not from the Arkanian girl, but such things soon became unimportant.
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The Assassin and his disappearing friend also fled the confines of dignity, morality, and honor, burying themselves more deeply into the scummy residue at the bottom of the galaxy -- and, in the case of one face, deeply into the psyche of particular Arkanian girl.
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As for the Jedi, they triumphed once again. Good defeated evil, the lion overcame the snake. Unfortunately, the young Padawan would soon forget that he possessed not the strength to do so his own, and barely after Knight Locke's wounds had healed, his head throbbed over the issue of what to do with the flighty Padawan.
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But Blanche's mind resided someone before that particular ellipse, and more in the moment of farewell. To the Jedi, she owed her life, and had given the only modicum of trust she expected she was capable of giving. Having been a slave, she knew that every pleasant thing should be worn thin, taken full advantage of, because so often, it was these few moments of rest that kept one alive through all the heartbreak.
So, after formal but profuse thanks, the girl could not yet quite walk away. She stole a kiss, light and fleeting like a bird's feather, from her handsome Knight in shining armor.
Then hurried feet and bashful eyes carried her away, on to a new life. She would go on to testify as she had promised, giving the vital evidence in the case. She was given a new life, a new chance, a new identity on Coruscant.
But Blanche soon realized that her true talent, that for languages, was somewhat overlooked, as on Coruscant, the prevailing idea was that protocol droids were the new, the better!, even as she scoffed at their stumbles. The restlessness that came with pushing papers shuffled a question to the surface...
And then the girl, having played her role in the world and its story, disappeared into oblivion.
Or did she?
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