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Meira
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Apr 23, 2011 20:14:52 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Apr 23, 2011 20:14:52 GMT -5
M'xael felt the lightsaber end of the staff collide and his maw flexed into an evil grin. But almost as quickly as the grin spread across his face, it disappeared. After a bright flash of light - and a few frantic blinks for his eyes to readjust - M'xael found the Jedi completely unharmed.
Eyebrows lifted and he made another slash, but again his blade seemed to glance off the beast Jedi, leaving him unharmed. For a moment, as the two began to run, M'xael simply stared at his weapon, his face a perfect picture of dumb confusion. He brought the blade crashing down along a table that had been set in the hall. The plasma cut through the wood and metal as if the table were made of paper. He jabbed the wall, which melted around the blade.
Then he noticed his enemies were no longer near him. Eyes glanced around in time to catch the creatures tail slip through a door. With yet another roar of rage, M'xael bounded after them down th hall, his staff charging before him like a lance. Two of his employer's goons found their bodies cleaved in two for having the misfortune of being in his way as he passed.
M'xael hit the door with such force, it was thrown violently from its hinges into the night air. There, a few paces before him, M'xael's prey stood. The beast had freed the man from his bindings. M'xael did not waste time. He charged forward, staff held high overhead. He would bring it down in a deadly arc, but it would not find his targets. His targets were now airborne, and climbing fast.
The S'kytri bellowed his rage after them into the sky, then flexed out his own wings. Joints, which had previously been dislocated to fold his wings easier, popped into sockets, making his wings much more rigid. When all were in place, M'xael began to beat his wings. Once, twice. He began to sprint forward, dust and trash skittering around him with each beat of his wings. Three, four. and on the fourth, M'xael pushed off from the ground and was soon in fast persuit of the Jedi.
Unburdened by a passenger, M'xael had the advantage of speed on his side. He was soon right behind the two Jedi. The little man-Jedi seemed to have found a lightsaber of his own, but this did not concern the S'kytri. The blade was short, just as his, but M'xael had the advantage of reach with the long staff. And he intended to put that advantage to work.
Setting his jaw, M'xael beat his wings, climbing higher until he was above the beast-Jedi. banking, M'xael angled himself downward, preparing to swoop down onto the two, lightsaber again out before him. Though this time, he would be no fool. Even if the beast could block the blade, he would still have the physical collision to contend with if he did not somehow alter to avoid it. M'xael aimed to force the beast into letting go of his companion.
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Kella
Fire and Blood
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Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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May 13, 2011 15:10:57 GMT -5
Post by Kella on May 13, 2011 15:10:57 GMT -5
"Flying Jedi Cavalry. Can't say that's something you see every day."
"Actually," Roq said, grinning, "I can."
His wings beat fiercely, straining against the thick air. The presence of the Sky'tiri loomed above him, as did his saber's fatal hum. Roq let forth a fierce cry, like the shriek of a hawk and the roar of a lion, in an effort to startle the beast. The Force nudged him forward, and again protected him from the bite of the blade. Instead of catching him on the back, the impact hit his flank, catching the fins on his tail.
Adrenaline flashed through Roq's mind, like that moment when one barely catches some incredibly fragile bauble. An exagerrated sense of falling, an arduous beating of wings to make up for the downward force.
Roq wobbled back into horizontal flight, quickly righting himself, and readjusted his grip on Locke. The Sky'tiri was going to make him choose between falling to his death or dropping Locke. So be it.
He was a sitting duck, but there was nothing he could do but to keep flying, keep pushing upward, and to be wary of the next assault.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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May 17, 2011 14:07:21 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on May 17, 2011 14:07:21 GMT -5
Locke felt himself grinning stupidly at Roq's answer to his comment. "Well maybe the Force or the gods found the time and grace to sh*t a bit of fortune out on me," he remarked slyly, "to give me a an experienced flying cavalier for a partner."
Ror's wings kept beating, took them higher in an effort to get away from the angry flying lizard man that was chasing them. His efforts, though valiant, could only delay the inevitable. Their foe had a distinct lack of Jedi hanging from his feet, and without being burdened, he could move more quickly than Roq could. It was only a matter of time until he caught up to them.
And catch up he did.
Locke could turn his head to see the angry red blade coming from behind and above them, but he couldn't do anything about it. Constrained by Roq's claws as he was, his ability to move his saber around was limited to a fairly confined forward arc, and the shortness of the blade didn't add much in the way of help.
And so, he got to watch helplessly as the blade seared the air between them. There was no doubt--well, not a lot of doubt--in his mind that Roq would keep them both safe, but there was an oddly-sickening feeling to watching something that posed a very real threat of cutting your legs off and not being able to do anything about it. It was at once both exciting and sickening.
Despite it, Roq kept them safe, but the great lizard beast rammed into both of them. Roq jolted from the impact. Locke winced as the blow forced some of Roq's claws to jab at him painfully. He kept quiet, though, other than letting out a wordless yell of surprise.
As Roq pulled them away from the Sky'tiri, Locke looked back. Maybe he couldn't do anything with his saber, but he always had the Force to call on. And it was so that he pointed his hand at the monster and let loose one blast of a push, then two. Perhaps they would buffet the Sky'tiri and throw him off balance in the air. If nothing else, they might buy some time.
But without a way to really keep the damned thing off their backs, they'd have to deal with him again soon enough. That was when an idea dawned in Locke's mind.
"I have an idea," he said. A rush of adrenaline filled him, more so than it already had been. It was the rush that came before you did something incredibly, mind-numbingly stupid.
Fortunately, Locke didn't think his idea was stupid. Not at all.
He let his awareness seep out through the Force, sought the mind of the Sky'tiri out. And then, when he found it, he sent messages. Images. Feelings of warmth and kindness, of friendliness. Of sharing ice cream and walking on the beach together. It was a mind trick of sorts, though it had no words. Rather, he made a veritable assault of love and kindness, and hoped the Sky'tiri's mind was weak enough to coo him into stopping his onslaught.
At the very least, if it failed, he didn't think the thing could get much angrier than it already was.
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Meira
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May 17, 2011 19:06:17 GMT -5
Post by Meira on May 17, 2011 19:06:17 GMT -5
He'd managed to jar the Jedi with his assault, but nothing more. The attack had also left M'xael at a lower altitude as he recovered from his own side effects of the mid-air collision. Balance had to be recovered, and height most of all.
The effort was beginning to be felt. S'kytri could soar and glide for hours, but aerial combat was a different thing altogether. It took a toll on the body. With a heaving chest, M'xael pushed through the ache in his muscles and willed himself to climb again through the perpetual night. He extinguished the lightsaber blade, hoping that it would at least mask his presence a bit more in the darkness, though he knew it would not do much. If nothing else, perhaps reigniting the blade at the last moment would surprise the beast-Jedi.
M'xael's form was hit with a sudden pressure of air, and then again. He swayed, his wings stretching out to full length for balance. Eyes narrowed as he realized this was a force attack from one of the Jedi. And it had almost worked. He'd lost distance as he struggled to maintain his balance. But the gusts of wind had also pushed M'xael upward. Just a little more and he'd be in position.
The S'kytri's form moved through the whisps of a cloud as he prepared for his second dive attack on the Jedi. The droplets of water that formed the cloud cooled his skin and M'xael was reminded of the coastal currents of his homeworld; the air rising in warm pillars that could carry a body skyward until the air grew thin. M'xael's wings stretched out with the memory as his eyelids drooped slightly in a sort of sleepy happiness.
Then a droplet of water hit him in the eye.
M'xael shook away the dreamy stupor, rage once again burning the blood that coursed through him. The Jedi would fool him no more. With a roar that echoed through the night, M'xael dove, tucking his wings back and extending his arms forward, the lightsaber remaining extinguished, for now.
At the last moment before colliding against the winged Jedi's back, M'xael flared out his wings, aligning his body with the beast's. One clawed hand grasped at a wing, right where it parted from the back. The other, still clutching the staff, moved to encircle around the beast's neck.
Their freefall began.
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Kella
Fire and Blood
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Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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Jun 5, 2011 23:30:46 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jun 5, 2011 23:30:46 GMT -5
"I have an idea," Locke said.
"Well, now that's new," Roq chided.
The shadows were deceptive here, blanketing the sky as well as the ground. The sparse lights below grew closer and closer together, but judging distance by them was a dubious and perilous affair.
Less accurate, but far more reliable, was the stream of information that came from Roq's wings and along his body. His race was built to be in tune with the air, its pressures and currents. Their current altitude was approximately two thousand feet, and still climbing. Roq was sporadically aware of the Sky'tiri behind him, gaining distance and altitude.
Locke's efforts were quite helpful, as they allowed Roq a few more precious feet. Unfortunately, the Sky'tiri had still gained the most dangerous advantage in aerial battles such as this -- altitude.
Sure enough, Roq felt the Sky'tiri's presence flux as he began to dive. Roq knew impact was coming, dodging would be unhelpfull. So Roq snapped his wings in, right before he was slammed downward. Gravity absorbed some of the blow, and his wings had been safe from the impact -- but not necessarily from the Sky'tiri. Roq snarled as he felt claws at the base of his wing, but was cut short by another set of claws at his throat.
Adrenaline shuddered through his mind as they began to fall. Roq slashed at the Sky'tiri's grip on his throat with a foretalon, twisting around with a hindleg to claw at his stomach. The air swept and snarled around them, yanking on Locke. Roq growled. Two thousand feet, thirty feet per second, that was a minute. Enough time.
Roq released Locke, pushing him away from the tangle of talons and wings. He threw his spine around to attack the Sky'tiri with both hind legs, kicking out to either pry the Sky'tiri off or give him a good, deep gash. His talons had found the hand at his neck and were doing as much damage as possible, while his other foreleg searched for a hold of the Sky'tiri's head.
Eighteen hundred feet.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jun 7, 2011 16:04:02 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jun 7, 2011 16:04:02 GMT -5
Locke felt something change within the Sky'tiri's mind as he touched it with his own. As the wind buffeted them both, his focus hardened into a single goal: to stop the beast, or at least slow his assault long enough to give Roq time to further prepare.
At first contact, the mind of the other was a cocktail of emotion--mostly various kinds of rage--that drew from some kind of taint. Locke didn't look further into it, but he knew what it was. It was the Dark Side of the Force, coating the mind and presence of the beast like a tar. Just slipping his presence against it was more than enough for him.
Instead he pushed on, started pressing emotions into the Sky'tiri's mind. And, much to his relief, they started to work. He felt the rage start to ebb away, felt a feeling of peace start to settle over him...
And then it snapped. Locke drew his presence back onto himself with an exasperated sigh. "Well it worked for a little bit," he muttered under his breath. Maybe he could try it again...
He saw the beast falling like at the like a missile right before he hit. "Lookout!"
The impact jolted them both, made the world suddenly shift around them. Locke winced sharply as one of Roq's talons was again pressed into his skin. His robe parted around it, but he could still feel it against his skin, rather than in it. But if the Sky'tiri kept ramming into Roq, that might change.
He whipped his head around, trying to see what was going on above him. Perhaps, if he was careful, he could swing his saber around and burn the Sky'tiri.
The chance to find out never came.
One moment, Roq was holding him. The next, he was not. Locke felt his stomach rise in his abdomen, and then he was in freefall. He swore in his head, then aloud as he started to fall. Taking a breath to steady his mind, and purposefully pushing thoughts of the ground out of his head, he flipped over onto his back. Roq and the angry flying lizard dueled in the air above, falling right along with him. He knew he had some time still, but if Roq didn't get back to him in time...
Let's not think about that.
He was largely helpless like this; he couldn't fly, and he wouldn't risk throwing his saber or trying to shoot with the two of them tangled up as they were. But there was the Force. There was always the Force, and with nothing else he could do, Locke reached out to it. It was more difficult to focus, knowing his was falling the way he was, but after short moment, he found the inner calm to reach out. The Force answered his call as he killed the shoto saber's blade and held tightly to the hilt.
He held his other hand forward to help with focus, and sought out the Sky'tiri's mind again. He sought that familiar feeling: the taint, the wild, primal fury. And when he found it, he once again pressed his mind out toward it. This time, it wasn't a gentle easing, filled with warmth and a hope of ending things peacefully. No, this time, Locke sought to distract, hopefully enough for Roq to take control.
This time, he slammed his mind against the Sky'tiri's like a hammer.
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Meira
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Jun 8, 2011 19:43:57 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Jun 8, 2011 19:43:57 GMT -5
The advantage was never going to last; this M'xael knew. His goal in the attack had been met. The little man-Jedi was loosed. Alone, he would do nothing more than splatter against the rooftops below. Now it was beast against beast. But beasts were dangerous.
M'xael grimaced as one of the Jedi's talons scraped against his clawed hand as it attempted to snake around the Jedi's neck. Still clutching the staff, M'xael had no way of stopping it from ripping into his flesh. So he released the weapon, opting to use his own claws as counter measures.
But the winged Jedi was now turning, trying to rotate his own body toward M'xael. Back legs lashed out, beating against M'xael's body, drawing blood here and there. M'xael knew. He could smell it. He scrambled with his own feet. Though the claws were far smaller, they would still do damage to a softer underbelly.
As they fell, the wind shook and tossed them about as they plunged to pockets of higher, and lower pressure. Occasionally, a wing would be pulled out by the air, spinning them until it could be tucked back again. M'xael knew he or the other would have to disengage, or their tangled masses would join the man-Jedi in painting the rooftops. But knowing and doing were two very different things. Pulling away would leave him vulnerable for a moment. Only a moment, but that was often all that was needed.
Suddenly, M'xael's vision exploded in a blinding white and for an instant, he thought they'd hit the ground sooner than he'd expected. But the pain persisted. He roared, lashing out violently in his blind panic. His legs and arms untangled from the Jedi's and they separated just as his vision was clearing. He had to get away. This was that moment.
Eyes wide, M'xael snapped open his wings to slow his fall. The winged Jedi continued past him. But just as the S'kytri was sure he'd made it, he felt a searing pain as one of the Jedi's talons ripped through the thin membrane of his right wing, tearing a slit from the middle to the bottom.
Each beat of his wings deepened the pain, and did very little to help him stay in the air. In rage and anguish, M'xael realized that he would not survive this fight. He was falling again, his right wing practically useless. His stomach was gushing blood as well. No. He would not live.
His eyes caught sight of the two Jedi once more; the winged one plunging toward the other. He would not live, but perhaps he could ensure the other would share his fate. Once again, M'xael tucked back his wings and angled his body downward. Shooting through the air like a bullet, he aimed himself toward the man-Jedi. It was hard to tell if he'd reach his target before the other Jedi. But at this point, it did not matter. He had failed. Failure was death.
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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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Jun 11, 2011 14:05:01 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jun 11, 2011 14:05:01 GMT -5
Regardless of burden or position, Roq -- and all Jedi -- had a distinct advantage over their more passionate foes.
Roq cleared his mind, allowing the Force to flow through it. Though he and the S'kytri were close, entangled, he could almost predict every blow. The hand loosed from his throat, and Roq drew in a long, deep breath. His foretalons kept the S'kytri's shoulder's at bay, while warmth edged the base of his hindtalons. Flesh. Blood.
A deep and primal instinct beat within him, birthing the compulsion to slice the S'kytri's throat with his beak. The Graarl was more than close enough, more than fast enough. But the Force soothed these instincts. One thousand feet.
The two winged beasts tangled and tumbled in a wild death-spiral. Roq felt wet blood spatter his chest, mostly the S'kytri's but some of his own, as the other beast caught the soft seams between belly scales. The Force dulled the pain and cleared Roq's vision, so that he saw in great detail the sudden change that came over the S'kytri's face.
He lashed out violently, and Roq felt a sting at the base of his jaw, an echoing thud in his chest, as the S'kytri slashed and then kicked. Roq was out of talon's reach, but not wing's breath. He was spinning away from the S'kytri and lashed out with his right wing, the two hooked claws at its apex catching the thin leather membrane of the S'kytri's exposed right wing, and tearing through with sickening ease as the Graarl plummeted.
Five hundred feet. Now everything depended on fleeting, fast moments. Roq snapped his body tightly inline, slicing the air like a razor blade. Roq intentionally overshot Locke, ten yards off-center, before twisting towards him and snapping his wings out, to sweep even with the human. Roq could feel the pressure on his wings at the sudden change of direction, but they were meant to take stressors such as these, and he lost little momentum, moving rapidly towards Locke.
A flash of movement drew Roq's gaze upwards, and he saw the S'kytri, diving directly towards Locke. With an injured wing, it was unlikely that the S'kytri would be able to pull out of a dive at this altitude. The S'kytri's expression showed that he knew this too.
"Look out!" Roq cautioned Locke, trimming his wings. Distances and judgements wheeled systematically through his head; the S'kytri would reach Locke first.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jun 11, 2011 15:47:05 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jun 11, 2011 15:47:05 GMT -5
Locke felt a burst of energy leave him. He'd put as much power behind the attack on the Sky'tiri's mind as he could in the hope of making a chance for Roq to be able to off him or break away or do [/i]anything[/i] that wouldn't leave a Locke pancake on the ground.
At first he couldn't tell if it worked. At first he couldn't even really tell what was going on; Graal and Sky'tiri were a great mass of tangled flesh and wings. Then he saw it. A momentary pulling away. A tear in a wing, a spike of pain from the Sky'tiri's presence.
Had Roq done it? Locke made a conscious effort not to turn his head to the side; the wind whipping his hair wildly around his head was more than enough to remind him that he was falling, and falling fast. He was aware of the ground flying up to meet him. And he was far too aware of what would happen if his back met it at terminal velocity.
"Come on, Roq," he said softly, almost pleadingly. If the Master wasn't able to save him...
Emotion, yet peace.
Jedi code or no, it was hard to stop the fear that was blooming in the pit of his stomach.
But the sight of the Sky'tiri starting to falter helped. Maybe it was over. Maybe not Roq would swoop down and save him from splattering on the ground below...
Except the Sky'tiri came at him first.
Locke swore aloud.
Now wasn't the time to panic or lose his cool. He saw Roq start to cut through the air to get to him, but the Sky'tiri was falling like a missile at him. Unless Roq pulled a magic trick out of his proverbial hat, the Sky'tiri would get to Locke first.
And if that happened, he was dead.
No, Locke. Not dead. The distance between them was rapidly closing. Locke's hand tightened on the hilt of his short lightsaber. You've only got one shot at this.
He drew deeply on the Force in those final heartbeats before the impact. His mind cleared, his vision seemed to sharpen, and his body relaxed. Three... He started to draw the arm that held his lightsaber back.
Two...
One
Impact.
The Sky'tiri slammed into his body, jolting him and rattling his teeth. Locke knew he was far too small and weak to be able to fight the thing physically, but he didn't need to. Not when he had a weapon. Clenching his teeth against the shock of the hit, he brought his arm forward. The red blade exploded to life again, aimed to burn a hole from one side to the other in the Sky'tiri's chest. As the blade seared through the beasts, chest, Locke shoved hard with his other hand, trying to free himself. He killed the weapon, tried to turn over in the air again to put the Sky'tiri below him. Then the blade came again, burning at an arm this time. Anything to keep him free.
And then he saw the ground. It was far closer to him than it had been a few moment ago.
"ROQ!"
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Meira
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Jun 15, 2011 18:23:32 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Jun 15, 2011 18:23:32 GMT -5
The S'kytri cut through the air, his form tucked tight and rigid. The wind hummed in his ears as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Just a little farther. M'xael knew now that he would beat the winged Jedi to his comrade, but he was not sure if he could will his life to continue long enough. Just a little farther. Only a few more seconds. He could feel his essence fading. All he had left to cling to was his rage.
The collision with the Jedi was less jarring than M'xael had expected. But he could scarcely feel anything anymore. It was all he could do to wrap his arms around the man and squeeze. He dug his claws into his own arms. It was the only way he could feel that he still held on.
Then, the air around the two seemed to change. M'xael realized he'd almost completely closed his eyes. Forcing them open, he recognized the red hue, and the hum of a lightsaber under the sound of the wind. Looking down, the S'kytri could see what he could no longer feel. The little man-Jedi had sunk a blade through his chest. Not a moment later, M'xael smelled his own seared flesh. His eyes lifted to meet the Jedi's as the puny creature tried to push himself out his arms. The rage was there, but it was slowly giving way to defeat.
The blade was extinguished, and for a moment, M'xael could see nothing. When it lit again, M'xael's eyes caught sight of the ground below as it seemed to rush upward. The little Jedi's second strike stung at his arm, causing the S'kytri to wince and snap his teeth at the man. But the fight was quickly fading from M'xael's body. They'd turned at some point... He could no longer see the ground.
A storm was brewing. The smell of rain was in the air. Lighting began to flash through the sky above him. Each burst of light seemed to leave the world darker when it was gone. He tried to count the seconds between the flash and the thunder, but M'xael realized he could not hear any of it. The sound of his heartbeat filled his ears as it slowed.
His vision was blurring. Each flash made the little Jedi's movements seem rigid and jumpy. Then, in the light of a bolt of lightning that seemed to span the entire sky, M'xael's vision was full of the silhouette of wings, then blackness.
By the next strike, the weight of the man-Jedi had been lifted from his body...
and he was alone.
Then the dark...
and nothing else.
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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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Jun 25, 2011 1:42:17 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jun 25, 2011 1:42:17 GMT -5
"ROQ!" Locke's cry pierced the night.
The Jedi fell down, and down, and down, tracing an invisible line in the sky...
Then it was gone. Snipped, erased by a sweep of leathery wings. Roq heard rather than saw the S'kytri's body hit the ground. But hearing was more than seeing, hearing was the distinct crunch of ribs and vertebrae and a femur.
The only sound was the soft whump, whump of Roq's wings as they once again strained against the extra weight.
Roq sighed deeply, breathing out a heaviness from his soul. The S'kytri had been given a chance to choose life. He had been wounded, not killed. Roq could have sliced his throat, but Roq had not. Death had been the S'kytri's choice. Would anyone cry over him? Mourn his death? Long for his presence? Welcome him into the afterlife? No, Roq thought not. But this, also, had been the S'kytri's choice. But, he had died with one being's respect, one being's recognition. This, Roq felt, was one of the deeper and most often lost duties of a Jedi.
Yet, as he breathed out, he breathed the mourning and the sadness from his mind. There was a time for everything, and the time of the S'kytri was over.
"Let's look for a place to set you down," Roq said, "I have a planet to save in..." he mentally wheeled back through the swirl of events, "Thirty minutes. And I can't have you adding ten minutes to my travel time."
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jul 6, 2011 18:38:01 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 6, 2011 18:38:01 GMT -5
The ground raced up at him. Locke's face paled, his eyes widened in terror, and his mouth opened to scream.
And then there was impact.
The world was black. Silence lay over him like a cloak. Then he felt it: the ground wasn't hard an unyielding, or rather not the right kind of hard. It was scaly, and moving, of all things. As he roused himself further, he felt breath in his lungs, felt the soft patter of raindrops on the side of his face.
I'm... He willed himself to slowly pry open his eyes. The world beyond was dark at first, and blurry. But it was there.
I'm not dead.
A flutter of motion caught his attention. It was a big flap of some sort, rhythmically moving up and down, up and down. No. Not a flap. It's a wing. And if that's a wing, that means... Locke coughed softly as he pushed himself upright. The scaly surface beneath him wasn't the ground. And the wind's gentle breath on his face wasn't the wind of the Force welcoming him to the afterlife.
No, the 'ground' was Roq, and Locke was riding him. "Seven hells Roq, you did it!" he cried, not at all caring that his thrilled voice sounded like that of a little kid again. He laughed, feeling the rush and the thrill of still being alive.
And then he looked down to see the broken, lifeless body below them. "Oh...." He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. Locke wasn't a very spiritual man, compared to some other members of the Order. But a silent prayer offered to the Force for peace to be given to a restless soul couldn't hurt. It was offered quickly, in the span of a few short breaths, and that was that.
As Roq wheeled through the air, Locke set his mind back to the matter of dealing with the situation at hand.
"Let's look for a place to set you down," Roq's voice rumbled beneath him. "I have a planet to save in... thirty minutes. And I can't have you adding ten minutes to my travel time."
Locke nodded his agreement. "Yeah, set me by our friend down there. He might have my lightsaber on him." It was only then that he realized he still held the stolen Sith Lord's lightsaber in his hand. While Roq took him to the ground, Locke lifted the short hilt and studied it. At the time that he took it, he hadn't thought much of it. And he'd just started carrying it around out of habit. Little thing ended up saving my life. A soft, subtle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he slipped it away back into his coat. Guess I'll hang on to it.
Once he was down on the ground once again, he took a moment to stretch, loosening up some of the muscles that he hadn't even realized had gone taut during his fall. He walked to the Sky'tiri and carefully poked around for a moment of searching until his hand found his weapon clipped on the back of the creature's belt.
Lightsaber in hand, he stood and turned to Roq again. "Alright, got it. I'm sure they have some speeders 'round here. If I can find one, I can get into it and hotwire it to get moving. If you head off I can catch up to you along the way." Thunder boomed in the distance, drawing his eyes skyward. "I'll have to get one with a roof," he muttered. "Weather's probably gonna get worse.
"Anyway," he continued, "you still in good condition, Roq? I couldn't tell what was goin' on up there with you all tangled up with the Sky'tiri, but it didn't look fun." He turned his attention away from the Councilor and looked southwest, back toward the capital. "I imagine we'll have to stay on our toes. Couldn't figure what they were planning before the caught me, but it's gonna be big if they wanna get the prize they're chasin'."
Locke chuckled lightly and looked to Roq with an amused twinkle in his eye. "Course, guess that's just me stating the obvious."
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Kella
Fire and Blood
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Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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Jul 9, 2011 22:57:47 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jul 9, 2011 22:57:47 GMT -5
Carefully, Roq glided, steering with his tail as moving his wings would threaten to dislodge Locke. He dropped down into an alley, sweeping up alongside the S'kytri corpse, and landing hard.
"And what's a Jedi without his lightsaber," Roq winkingly replied.
Roq stretched his wings; his muscles were already starting to kink. Such an impressive feat of balance, flying with a fully-grown human perched on his back, was worthy of an award, he thought. Something big, and shiny. Very shiny.
Roq confirmed that Locke had fetched his own lightsaber, but also stole a good look at the second, shorter saber. The blade had very clearly been very red. Now where did you pick that up, Locke?
He nodded at Locke's commentary. "A storm is indeed brewing..." Roq eyed the horizon, and took a deep breath. "Smells a whole lot better than Coffee brewing, that's a fact."
In response to Locke's question, Roq shook out his wings and tested his neck. Most of the blood on his scales was the S'kytri's, but by the stinging under his belly scales, he could tell some of it was his own.
"All limbs and vital organs intact," Roq reported, "Though I think I'm going to need a nice long bath in the Mustafar Hotsprings after this."
"Course, guess that's just me stating the obvious," Locke said.
"That is something at which you excell," Roq said, matter-of-factly, though there was a deep-bellied chortle somewhere in his tone.
With barely even the rustle of leather, Roq was airborne again. This time, the night air swept softly over his wings, pushing him upward with seemingly miniscule effort. Instead of barely keeping him aloft, powerful downstrokes propelled him switfly forward, buildings and alleys rushing by beneath. From his memory he drew perfect pictures of his path to Locke, and matched them to the ground below, quickly retracing his path, and racing towards the Palace.
As he flew, he called upon the Force, willing it to give him strength for this next encounter.
He was going to need it.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jul 18, 2011 13:55:48 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 18, 2011 13:55:48 GMT -5
"The Mustafar Hotsprings, eh?" Locke asked with a quirk of the brow. "Why, that sounds just lovely, Roq. Do remember to take me along with you; electrocution has this nasty habit of making the muscles sore, y'know." As if stirred by those words, he felt a tickle of discomfort ease across his back, where one of the nets had hit him. Locke stretched wide and groaned softly until he felt his back pop. He just had to hang in a little longer.
Hopefully, it would just be a little longer.
"Anyway, I'll catch up. I have a speeder to go steal now."
Roq took off and Locke tilted his head up, watching the Councilman wheel up into the sky until the perpetual darkness his him. The wind blew a little stronger, pushed his hair into his face as he stood there. The rain picked up as well; the light drizzle picked up into something resembling actual rain, with great fat drops that actually threatened to make him wet.
"Well here goes," he muttered, turning on his heel and pulling his coat closed around him. "Time to save the day again." His pace picked up to a jog toward the speeder garage. He just hoped he still remembered how to hotwire a speeder.
And as he neared the garage, he hoped the conspirators had been kind enough to leave a speeder behind for him when they left, or else he was in for a very, very long walk.
------
Luck had been with him, for once. Not only had they been kind enough to leave him a speeder--and one with a roof!--but he did, in fact, remember how to hotwire one. And all it took was a few electrocutions to jog my memory. Locke chuckled to himself as he flew low and steady along the path Roq was laying out for him in the Force. That's two good things in a row by my count. Three with Roq arriving to save my ass. Makes up for getting electrocuted and clubbed over the head...
Wonder what terrible thing's gonna happen to make up for it. That's the way it works, right?
He was near Roq now; the Graarl's presence as clear in the Force, but Locke couldn't see him out ahead. He kept a hand on the wheel and reached for his comm, only to remember hearing the thing clatter away from his grasp when he'd been ambushed. "Dammit... Would lose the gorram thing when I need it..."
So with a sigh, he stretched himself out through the Force, ignoring the teeming flickers of life in the city below to focus on Roq...
Who was flying below him.
Figures. Locke rolled his eyes in annoyance at nothing in particular. Locked eased back on the throttle to keep from outpacing Roq and kept his altitude steady until the lights and tall fluted towers of the palace loomed ahead of them.
Roq... landing pad. Locke sent to the master, sending more the feelings and images of the pad he was heading for than the words themselves. Even for a Jedi talented in telepathy as he was, it was difficult to speak complete thoughts to someone he didn't have the kind of tight bond with that he shared with his student.
Trusting that Roq would know what he meant, or simply follow once he started to break off, Locke took his speeder to the nearest palatial landing pad he saw and set it down. He pointedly ignored that it was meant for starships, and thus far too large to be used for his lonely speeder. Desperate times, desperate measures, he told himself as the door eased up and he stepped out.
Lightning flared in the distance. Thunder followed a heartbeat later.
Locke grinned as raindrops fell onto his face. "Time to save the day."
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Meira
She don't mess around
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Jul 19, 2011 19:31:35 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Jul 19, 2011 19:31:35 GMT -5
Arriving secretly through a rear service gate wasn't exactly the grand entrance Neem has imagined, but it was safe. In any case, none would bear witness to a grand procession up the main steps at this late hour. No, Neem could save the pomp and circumstance for when he addressed Nivek as its new leader.
As the speeder's door opened, Neem stepped forth, an umbrella sheltering him from the rain that had begun to fall. In the distance, lightning flashed and Neem counted the seconds until the thunder rolled. One... two... three... four... The heart of the storm was still a ways away.
Two long steps brought Neem to the gate where two guards stood, their eyes darting this way and that. Neem paused in front of the two and studied them. They had the build of well trained guards, but their faces betrayed their anxiety. They'd been bought, but not soundly.
"Are these the brave men who helped to ensure our victory tonight?" Neem asked the man who held the umbrella.
"Yes sir."
Lightning struck again. One... two... The thunder came quickly, much louder this time. It seemed to vibrate the very air. The two guards quaked.
"See to it that they are... well rewarded." Neem swept past the guards and through the gate, his personal guards following quickly behind. The last one stopped between the two guards, who turned toward him expectantly. The silenced blaster made less sound than the two bodies did when they hit the ground.
"There is no room for betrayal in the new leadership of Nivek. Is that clear?" Neem asked as they moved inside. The guards issued their understanding in unison as another flash of lightning filled the sky. The storm was fully on them now.
"I- I'm sorry but... y-you can't... you can't g-g-go in th-"
Neem held up a hand and the secretary was silenced. He smiled at the woman, his large eyes narrowing. "You are a brave woman, but as you can see," he gestured toward the armed guards around him. "I possess the highest clearance.
Below her desk, the woman's hand slowly moved toward a small red button. With as much effort as it might take one to wave away a fly, one of Neem's guards leveled his rifle on the woman and let loose one shot. The impact forced the woman back against her chair, eyes wide in her final state of fear, and then she slumped and did not move again.
"Pity." said Neem as he moved past her desk and opened the doors to the Prime Directors office. The murmured discussions ended at once as Neem glided across the empty space between the door and where a number of politicians gathered around the Prime Director's desk.
All straightened up at the sight of him, and the Prime Director stood. Though his face showed his ire, Neem couldn't help but smile at how appropriate his action had been. Neem's guards fanned out, blocking the side doors that some of the politicians had tried to inch toward.
"No need to leave on my behalf, gentlemen. In fact, I'm sure you will all want to bear witness to this momentous occasion." Neem moved forward and around the desk to stand next to the Prime Director. The politicians parted, moving from his path like the insects they were.
"This evening, you will witness the transfer or power and the dawn of a new era for Nivek." Neem stood a head taller than the Prime Director. As he smiled down at the man and moved to place his hand on the others shoulder, the Prime Director shrugged him off and stared back at him defiantly.
"Your efforts are in vain, Neem." the Prime Director said. "The Jedi are here. Do you really think this handful of guards will stop them?"
Neem's laugh was quiet, but in the silence of the room, it carried to every corner. "No, no, my good man. Of course not. But I believe the Jedi will not be disturbing us tonight. I have seen to that personally."
The comm on the Prime Director's desk suddenly crackled to life. Through the static the sounds of blaster fire could be heard around a frantic voice.
Sir! Armed intruders have entered the palace grounds! All forces have moved to engage. Someone must have let them in! You need to move to your secure location NOW!
Neem's hand moved slowly across the desk until one long finger pressed the switch to deactivate the comm. His eyes never left the Prime Director's. "So," he said softly. "shall we begin?"
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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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Jul 25, 2011 13:49:08 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jul 25, 2011 13:49:08 GMT -5
Roq could feel the electric crackle in the air as lightning flashed. The thunderous shock-wave of sound rolled through him, both excruciatingly painful and profoundly energizing. It was as if a friend, a friend as large as the sky, were calling to him.
A million drops of water fell around Roq, skimming off his scales and rolling off his wings. He could see light glint off of each droplet, stars against the blackest ground. The Palace grew rapidly near, suddenly silhouetted against an electric flash. Its shape flickered in sharp relief, then faded into smears of yellow, light escaping through various cracks and windows.
Thunder seared the air again, and Roq dove, sweeping downward to skim between tall spires. He reached within the castle to find the cancer, spread his presence out like a c--
Locke's presence mumbled at the edge of his awareness.
Sanding mad? What in the Nine Corellian hells, Locke... Demanding bad? What the... ah! Landing pad!
Roq recalled the landing pad he'd seen earlier, and sure enough, found Locke's presence near to it.
He resumed his search. Like a surgeon, he scanned the whole building, and finally, found the malignancy. Almost to the heart. Well, no, that just wouldn't do.
Roq concentrated harder, bringing out of the shadows the structure and build of the Palace, the halls and walls, the openings and passageways... There.
The Graarl climbed upwards through the air, rain splashing on his face, wings beating back gravity. He waited for that feeling, that electric charge growing in the air...
Now!
Roq's body suddenly folded, lightning flashed in the air, and he plummeted downward. Suddenly, his wings snapped open, force carrying him sideways, ramming into a window just as thunder boomed. Roq rolled across a carpet of broken glass, then stood in the low hall. He looked around, shaking bits of glass from his scales. No one had payed the crash second mind. He grinned.
Then, a thought made the grin fade.
"I'm going to have to pay for that..." he grumbled, looking forlornly back at the broken window. "Politics." He shrugged, a few more pieces of glass tinking to the ground, before taking off sprinting down the hall.
The Jedi gathered in his presence, reigning it until it was invisible. Locke would not be able to sense him, but neither would Neem, on the off-chance that he had any more force-sensitive cronies.
Still a few yards out, he could tell the secretary was dead. A fleeting thought reminded him that this had been the cost of saving Locke's life. He would mourn over this later.
Roq drew up behind the door that Neem and his men had taken. He quickly but carefully examined the forms -- none of them were Force sensitive -- then released his presence once more. He could then see vague shadows in the force, through the walls, and took stock of the situation. As expected, the guard on the other side of this door was more interested in keeping the Politicians in, than keeping anything out...
The Graarl's scales suddenly gleamed with some sort of ethereal substance, a telekinetic tendril opened the door, and the first guard fell under the weight of massive talons and three-hundred pounds of muscle. Startled, nervous guns flicked blaster bolts at the Jedi, but these merely made bright, colorful flashes in the ethereal shell.
"So, Shall we begin?" Neem had just said.
"Actually," Roq said, his voice booming through the small room, "I think you should focus on finishing what you've already started." He grinned coyly.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Aug 3, 2011 22:18:56 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Aug 3, 2011 22:18:56 GMT -5
Lightning seared the sky above.
It was hard to see in the dark once the fork of light flickered away--even more so with the steady rain pounding down harder every moment from the roiling clouds above. Locke figured it would be good to get into the palace and out of the rain soon; soaking clothes had a way of growing rather uncomfortable after a while.
The Investigator made a casual wave of the hand as he walked and a softly-glowing barrier appeared a few inches above him, curved shallowly like the top half of a wide sphere and thin as the paper used in ancient texts. The Force was a lovely thing sometimes.
A grand stairway stretched up before him. It was comprised of three flights in total, each separated by a flat landing that sprawled out about fifteen feet before the next grouping of stairs headed up. Locke sprinted up them, not wanting waste time. At the top there was a large veranda, sheltered from the rain by a thick, beautifully-detailed covering.
As he came to the great double doors that lead into the palace itself, Locke was stopped by two guards in ceremonial uniform. They crossed two long polearms across the doors, barring him entry. Locke swore softly and dropped the shield that had been shielding him from the rain.
"Hey, look, fellas," he said as he slowed to a halt. "I... really need to get in there. See, we've got some problems and if I can-"
"Palace is closed to visitors at this hour." One of them said simply, gruffly.
"Leave the grounds immediately or face arrest for trespassing. This area's off-limits to you," said the other in a voice just as flat as the first.
Locke bit back a growl and studied them both for a heartbeat. Thankfully a light above gave detail to their inky black faces, or he might not have been able to see anything of them through the night's darkness.
Not that there was much to see. Their faces were as flat and stony as their voices.
Wonder how they do that.
"Look," he went on quickly, holding his hands up to show they were empty, "I know you're just doin' your job and all, but I need to get in there. I'm one of the Jedi that was sent here. Must have left the palace before your shift began."
The guards' faces stayed impassive, but their large yellow eyes flickered.
"Locke," he said. "My name is Locke Nemsee." As an extra reassurance, he lifted the short lightsaber hilt from his belt with the Force to hang between his open hands. Both palms stayed facing out, and he kept the weapon squarely centered between them, showing he had no intent to use it.
The guard on the left looked to the one on the right. A silent moment passed. The guard on the right gave a solid nod to the left, and both their weapons lifted from the entryway in perfect unison.
"I remember the name. Go, Jedi."
"Thank you, gentlemen," Locke said as he hurried through the doors. "Oh, before I go," he stopped suddenly and turned to look at them over his shoulder. "You may want to gather some men. I believe the High Director is in danger."
The doors swung shut behind him.
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Meira
She don't mess around
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Aug 12, 2011 16:24:55 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Aug 12, 2011 16:24:55 GMT -5
Only moments after he spoke, the doors burst open again. One of Neem's guards fell under the massive weight of some blur of a being. Almost instantly, the other guards opened fire on the creature. Neem wasted only the slightest fraction of a moment in surprise before coming to his senses and seizing hold of his captive. One arm took the Prime Director's wrist, twisting it behind his back until he let out a yelp of pain. The other had just managed to spring the small knife concealed in his sleeve out into his palm when the creature spoke. Neem now held the blade at the Prime Directors throat. Surprise was concealed as Neem looked on this new creature. Was it another Jedi? It must have been, to survive the volley of blaster bolts the guards had sent his way. His eyes glanced quickly toward a side door. If the guards could hold the beast at bay, perhaps he could escape with his hostage. There was no time to hesitate. "KILL IT! KILL THEM ALL!" As the blaster fire filled the room again, Neem raced for the door, pulling the Prime Director with him and keeping the man between himself and this new Jedi. Two... he thought as he raced down a short corridor and summoned a turbo lift. Someone would die for this disastrous error in intelligence collection. But that would have to wait. Now was the time for escape. He could hear the clamor of the confrontation in the office and knew that he was losing guards. The lift pinged and the doors opened. Neem backed himself and the Prime Director into the lift. Just as the doors closed, he caught a glimpse of scales and leathery wings. ((Hope I wasn't taking too much liberty for that quick escape.... Just thought Neem could use a bit more of a fighting chance ))
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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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Dec 11, 2011 19:56:35 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Dec 11, 2011 19:56:35 GMT -5
"KILL IT! KILL THEM ALL!"
Roq's eyes narrowed as Neem slipped out of the room. He couldn't follow yet; the Prime Director wasn't the only politician whose life mattered today. He turned his attention to the guards. Now, going through and systematically incapacitating each one would only work if they were all too stupid to realize that they should start threatening hostages instead of charging the Jedi. Maybe they were that stupid, but Roq didn't like to make assumptions.
So, instead, he reached out with the force, finessing it (and a task of this kind did take quite a bit of finessing) so that a tendril wrapped around each of the guards' guns. He gave this a sudden tug, two blasters flying to land at his feet, the rest still held fast.
"I'll relieve you of those, gentlemen," he said, continuing to tug. One let go in confusion, and the others began to slide towards Roq, so strong was the pull.
"Hey!" one yelled, and Roq's responding tug left him summarily disarmed. In only a few seconds, all the blasters were piled at Roq's feet, at which point an invisible force crushed them into a pitiful black wad of metal.
Of course, the guards had more than just their blasters, but they were suitably disoriented at this point. It was time to make use of the energy that was crackling around him, absorbed from the guards' blaster shots. Roq drew the energy to concentrate around his foretalons, and darted towards the closest guard, batting aside the man's raised hands and placing his talons against the man's chest. There was a flash of light, and the man slumped to the floor. A flurry of wings and scales swept through the room, and all the guards were similarly incapacitated.
Less than a minute had passed since Neem had disappeared, but it was an-amount-less-than-a-minute too long. Roq nodded at the politicians, "Gentlemen, I believe you can take it from here," and swept out of the room.
He sprinted down the hall, bidding the Force to give him a tail wind, and his eye caught a swish of fabric and Neem and the Prime Director disappeared into a lift. He surged forward, skidding to stop in front of the lift doors just as they slid shut. Roq sighed.
And then he tore into the lift door. It let out a pained groan and slid to the side. Roq seemed to be tearing through a lot of doors today. Roq would have expected Neem to be going downwards, which is probably why he spied the bottom of the lift disappearing upwards. Not wasting a moment, Roq dove into the lift shaft and hooked his talons into the machinery on the walls, climbing swiftly upwards after his charge.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Dec 15, 2011 20:23:05 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Dec 15, 2011 20:23:05 GMT -5
Locke hurried through the hall. Time was of the utmost importance now, and he couldn't be sure how much the Prime Director had left. One thing was certain, though: he and Roq could not fail, not at this juncture. Too much was on the line.
He heard the doors behind him open as he ran, and hazarded a glance back over his shoulder. Behind him, he saw one of the stony guards from outside coming in, motioning for some more men to follow him. Well I'll be damned, he thought, impressed. That was fast. What, do they hide in holes in the floor?
Whatever magic they'd used, Locke wouldn't complain.
Down the hall he continued, until it suddenly opened up into a massive atrium, with windows so wide and tall that the walls looked to be made of glass. It wasn't the first time Locke had seen the atrium, but now, at night, with the soft lighting and water rolling down the windows in sheets, it looked almost like an entirely different place.
"Very nice," he muttered, pausing for a heartbeat.
Then he was moving again, rushing toward the lift at the other end of the atrium. Activity rippled in the Force, but it was all up above, higher up in the complex. And since he lacked the same blessing of flight as Roq...
The lift suddenly pinged. Locke stopped abruptly, lowering a hand to his blaster. The doors slid open and...
"Well, well," he said, drawing his pistol at the sight of the two men inside. "I was plannin' on chasing you up there, really. But if you just wanna hand yourself over, well that's just fine too."
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