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Darksword
Good Shistavanen ...sit...stay...*growl* RUN AWAY!
297 posts
1 like
We all must face Death in his cold, dark land one day.
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last online Mar 28, 2016 23:10:08 GMT -5
Padawan
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May 13, 2009 12:04:28 GMT -5
Post by Darksword on May 13, 2009 12:04:28 GMT -5
Derga waited only for a few moments ebfore Valen was outside his room. He looked over him carefully, assessing his gear before nodding, his features hidden behind the reflective gaze of his helmut. "Good enough. Let's go. We have a assignment on Corellia. Were going to be organizing a hit-and-run on a high security prison there to rescue some prisoners. Hoping some of them will be willing for work in the ESA. Anyways, you and me, maybe and maybe a few troops are gonna be part of the operation." He walked towards the turbolift and keyed in the main floor. Once there, he started walking towards the entrance of the building, nodding to the Squad Leader and Heavy Weapons specialist as he went out with Valen following him.
"Were going to take my ship, The Starburner. We should arrive at Corellia in a few hours if we use top speed. Anyways, any gear you may need for this op will be in my ship as well. Now, we best hurry and get going. I am anxious to get this op going..." He quickened his pace, his sniper rifle hidden within it's duffel bag, it's sling over his shoulder. After several minutes of walking, his ship came in sight, its many weapons and armor plating obvious to seen. "Decent vessel. Dynamic-class Gunship, personally customized by me and a few GWL personnel." He tapped a button on his wrist datapad, sending a signal to his ship. It unsealed, it's security system dying down, and the ship's ramp lowering. Derga quickly ran up it and out of sight, trotting through the ship to the cockpit. He sat down in the pilot's chair and starting the warm-up. He concentrated on his work, letting Valen explore the ship or set himself down somewhere. If he tried going into his personal quarters or anywhere he shouldn't, Derga would know about it. He then returned his attention to warming up the large vessel and starting their mission.
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Hawke Belmont
"A man does what he can until his destiny is revealed"
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last online Apr 15, 2011 11:42:20 GMT -5
Padawan
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May 13, 2009 17:52:04 GMT -5
Post by Hawke Belmont on May 13, 2009 17:52:04 GMT -5
Valen searched the ship to get a good feel around, knowing where various compartments were etc. Once Valen was comfortable knowing where everything was he cam back into the cockpit and strapped himself in the shotgun seat and nodded at Derga.
"Ready when you are."
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Darksword
Good Shistavanen ...sit...stay...*growl* RUN AWAY!
297 posts
1 like
We all must face Death in his cold, dark land one day.
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last online Mar 28, 2016 23:10:08 GMT -5
Padawan
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May 13, 2009 17:59:44 GMT -5
Post by Darksword on May 13, 2009 17:59:44 GMT -5
As he put in the finishing touches to the warm-up process, Valen came in. He nodded in return and suddenly pushed a couple buttons and pulled back on a lever. The ship shuddered as it lifted off the landing ramp. He quickly took the flight controls in his hands and turned the ship around, then accelerated away into the atmosphere. He flipped a couple switches and glanced at his sensor board, ensuring there was nothing they needed to worry about. "Exiting atmosphere. Punching in cooridinates for Correllia...." He quickly brought up his navi-computer files, looking for Corellia's.
He quickly found it and punched it in, then pushed a single blinking button. The ship suddenly lurched as the stars in their viewport turned to white lines and they entered hyperspace. Derga checked over all the systems, seeing nothing needing his attention, before turning to Valen. "We'll be there in a few hours. Better make yourself comfortable." He sat back in his chair and stretched, yawning slightly and revealing his large mouthful of razor sharp teeth.
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Hawke Belmont
"A man does what he can until his destiny is revealed"
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last online Apr 15, 2011 11:42:20 GMT -5
Padawan
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May 13, 2009 18:08:30 GMT -5
Post by Hawke Belmont on May 13, 2009 18:08:30 GMT -5
OOC: Is that the last post here? And start a new thread in Correllia? Or?
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Darksword
Good Shistavanen ...sit...stay...*growl* RUN AWAY!
297 posts
1 like
We all must face Death in his cold, dark land one day.
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last online Mar 28, 2016 23:10:08 GMT -5
Padawan
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May 13, 2009 19:31:07 GMT -5
Post by Darksword on May 13, 2009 19:31:07 GMT -5
OOC: Yes last post. We moving to Corellia. Ill set it up.
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last online Apr 15, 2021 13:10:52 GMT -5
Knight
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May 13, 2009 20:37:57 GMT -5
Post by Mr.Bøbert on May 13, 2009 20:37:57 GMT -5
Dak shifted his eyes the oversized droids, then to Fira, then to the door to the next room, then back to the droids. "We should run," he said, putting the scope of the rifle to his eye, and kneeling down as Fira let loose some lasers at the droids, though they kept on coming. "But then, it wouldn't be quite as much fun." Grinning, he pulled the trigger, sending a bolt into the droid's head. The droid stepped backwards, having been hit in a programmed weak spot, but continued forward, another feature not intended for this level. Whatever it was now. "Go for the heads. They're weaker there. Still tough, though." He fired a few more shots into the head, and it staggered backwards, almost falling. The other two raised their training bowcasters, and unleashed a volley of green stun lasers.
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last online Sept 21, 2010 6:04:53 GMT -5
Knight
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May 13, 2009 21:04:24 GMT -5
Post by Val - Warning:Contains Sarcasm on May 13, 2009 21:04:24 GMT -5
Fira nodded. Aim for the head? She could do that. She closed her left eye, setting the right one down the sights of the pistol, giving her time to see the green lights hurtling towards her. She dived to the right, further towards the corner, avoiding the deadly bolts from the bowcasters that could probably have caused third degree burns. She took aim again, hitting with a few shots to the upper body and head. One of the droids staggered back, along with the other which the soldier had been shooting. She changed target to the other one standing up, firing some shots at this one too. It was closer and easier to hit, taking a few hits to the head, but even that didn't do it. She wiped away a strand of hair out of her eyes, considering anything she could do to improve their odds.
Seeing her chance as the droids recovered from being knocked back slightly, she took the training pistol into both hands quickly, examining it in the green glow of the goggles. It was pretty standard, nothing special concerning technology, so she knew its basic layout. She took the side casing off easily, twisting it forcefully until it revealed the energy cell and circuitry inside. She removed her hand from anywhere near the trigger, aware she could fry herself doing this, and considered the organisation quickly, before moving the energy cell forward and passing several more wires through it. She was more likely to miss with this layout, and there was more kickback from the pistol, but it would increase the power of the shots. She fired, feeling the extra push with each squeeze of the trigger, but a more satisfying shot to compensate.
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last online Apr 15, 2021 13:10:52 GMT -5
Knight
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May 14, 2009 10:38:15 GMT -5
Post by Mr.Bøbert on May 14, 2009 10:38:15 GMT -5
Dak chuckled as Fira fired another few bolts, but these ones actually damaged the droid she hit. It would need repairs now, but if those bolts from the bowcasters hit him or Fira, it would be them that would need repairs. Well, doesn't look like much of a choice now... he thought. He reached into his back pocket, and pulled out an ion grenade, and shoved it into the launcher on the practice rifle. Aiming at the center droid, he fired the grenade, and it hit it right in the head, sending bolts of electricity everywhere, frying the circuits of all three droids, and they crumpled to the ground. They'd need some serious repairs now, but it gave them the chance to escape from the training room of doom. "Damn, that's gonna cost alot to repair. C'mon, lets get out of here before it sends something even worse after us." He ran towards the door, waited til Fira was out, then closed it behind them, and ran to the control room, shutting the system down completely.
He walked back out, and looked at the training pistol Fira was holding. "Impressive. Very resourceful. It looks to me like you modified that pistol to something close to a real blaster. Resourcefulness is very useful. Alright, follow me, again." He led her to the turbolift, then to the first floor, then took her to his office, and held out a paper and pen. "If you'd like in, you just sign this paper."
((ooc: Not the best post ever, but I'm rushed.... again. lol))
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last online Sept 21, 2010 6:04:53 GMT -5
Knight
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May 14, 2009 13:33:54 GMT -5
Post by Val - Warning:Contains Sarcasm on May 14, 2009 13:33:54 GMT -5
Fira nodded, grabbing a chunk of spare metal that had landed at her feet and following the man outside, switching the safety on the blaster back on and holding it by the end. She kept quiet, wondering whether he was annoyed about what had happened or something, so decided to apoligise to try and address what had happened. "Sorry about what happened. If the droids are broke or if this pistol's not much good anymore..." She twiddled the metal between her fingers a little, hoping it would solve the problems for her.
He complimented on her for the pistol, very unexpectedly. She shifted nervously, murmuring a thanks quite quietly, glancing at the pistol in her hand. She'd hardly done anything to it, it wasn't very complicated really. He lead her upstairs, into a small, very nice office before motioning towards a paper on the desk. He enticed her to sign, which was a little fast and hard for her to take in. In the small time she'd been here she'd been threatened by a gang, almost shot multiple times, stared down by a wolf-person, almost killed by droids, and was now being offered a signing with some sort of Elite Police Force.
She sighed, evaluating that the day wasn't going to get less crazy if she just left the place, and she'd be without anywhere to go, or without any way of getting there. At least here she could learn about things that interested her. She picked up the pen, reading partially through the contract, understanding very little of it anyway, before signing a large loopy signature - her first - on the line indicated. She continued twirling the metal in her hand.
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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May 16, 2009 23:01:41 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on May 16, 2009 23:01:41 GMT -5
Graffion Maruhuey walked down the streets of Nar Shaddaa, not quite sure what to do. He had come here to join a crew of some sort, one where he could get an easy access to jobs and still do his hunt for Artemis Entreri. Unfortunately for him, his first option turned out to be a total nut-job. Walking into a small, three story building, he sighed. There was a clerk at front. The green skin of her Twi'lek face seemed to glow as she smiled and sat up straight, "Welcome to the Inn, would you be wanting a room for the night?"
Graffion replied with a quick yes, pulling out a handful of Republic credits. "Will this do."
"Sir, this is enough for three nights." She said after a quick count.
"Good, book me." He told her, placing the credits on the counter and waiting patiently for her to give him the code to a room.
"Room thirteen, just down the hall. The code is 44-22" The clerk said, her smile wide and happy. He knew it was just for 'good service'. He returned a smile that was just as fake and half-hearted before walking down the hall. Moving quickly, watching the numbers grow, he idly thought about how he would begin his search. But something else kept bugging him. The ambushers earlier, at the fake meeting point.
He stopped at the aforementiong room thirteen, and hit the four button combination to open it. The door slid quietly open, and he stepped into the darkness. The second he walked in a chill ran down his spine and he knew there was somebody else in there with him. Immediately he looked to the left and right. What he saw did not please him. It was apparently the same man he'd spoken to earlier, "Sh-" He got out before a stun prod went into his chest. He felt his legs go weak beneath him. About ten minutes he woke up on his bed to a clapping noise.
Looking up, that same damn man was standing over him in the darkness, laughing. The bathroom light was on, so Graffion could still see vaguely. "The hell's going on?" He asked, his voice slightly slurring from the stun. He couldn't move.
The man stared at Graffion for a moment, "You need practice, how could you let yourself be ambushed twice? Assassin, HAH!" Graffion actually mustered the strength to reach for his blaster pistol, only to find it wasn't there. He reached over to try and strangle the man, and made it surprisingly far for his stunned state. The man simply held his hand out and pushed Graffion back down. "Sorry about that, but I didn't want you to attack me."
"Could have just knocked."
"Still, my point remains." The man replied rather smugly. A scowl was the only coming reply, "So Shadow Knight's didn't work out? Why not?"
"Fanatics." He said.
"How so?" The man asked.
Graffion looked at him and said, "Wanted to fight the whole damned Republic. Even had an important Republic figurehead appear, wanted to help them."
The man tried not to act interested, but replied a bit too quickly, "Who?"
Graffion stared at him for a moment, then said, "No."
"What?"
"You'll have to offer me something." Graffion told him.
"How about...I tell you of a more prominent place that's setting up recruitment?"
Graffion laughed, "If their prominent, I won't have trouble finding them."
"Their a secret. All good things in life are, Assassin." The man replied.
"No deal."
The man cocked his head, "What?"
"There's more important information I'd like to know before that." Graffion told him, "For instance, who are you, and for what do you work?"
"My name is unimportant, and I work for Upezza Keeza, Market Weapon. We deal in information, now, who was it?" The man asked.
"I don't think so." Graffion asked.
The man scowled, "I could kill you ya know."
"Now how would that benefit you?" Graffion Maruhuey asked.
Now the spy was in a deadly situation. If he didn't act, then that would prove that Graffion Maruhuey was important enough to Upezza Keeza alive. If he did, then the man might call his bluff and realize both that and just how desperate the man was for the information, "I could go home..." The man answered, without much hesitation.
Luckily, Graffion wasn't the best at reading people, so he didn't catch much from that. Even believed him. "Hm...Way I see it, you owe me though. You gave me bad information."
"Did we?" the man replied, realizing the tactic of changing the conversation, he would let it slip, "How so? We told you of the place, it just didn't appeal to you."
"And shouldn't you have mentioned that they knock out their contacts and kidnap them?" Graffion replied quickly.
The man scowled, "Alright, I'll make you a deal. There's a real solid organization, but we need something from you as well."
"And what's that?" He replied.
"Just for you to do a little job in a few months time..."
"What?" Graffion asked, interested.
"An assassination. Isn't that your job?"
"Of course."
"So you'll do it?"
Graffion didn't reply for a moment, "So long as the information is worth it. What is the job."
"When we need you, we'll find you." He replied, smirking as Strae's devious plan slowly started to spin together. An intricate web, for sure. "The place is just up the street actually." The man told him, telling Graffion the exact location of the ESA building.
~*~
A few hours later, Graffion Maruhuey walked into the front doors of ESA. He saw the two guards, ready for action, and the clerk, seeming interested in the man who walked in, as if not very many people did. Graffion walked up to the desk, taking care not to make a single noise in his steps, moving right up to the man. He stood straight and cocky in front of the desk and said, "Hello. My name is Graffion Maruhuey, and I'm looking for employment."
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last online Apr 15, 2021 13:10:52 GMT -5
Knight
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May 21, 2009 21:52:16 GMT -5
Post by Mr.Bøbert on May 21, 2009 21:52:16 GMT -5
Dak smiled as Fira signed her name on the paper, then began twiddling with a piece of metal. Dak was about to ask why she had it, but his comm beeped. He turned to face the door, as if it would help him communicate better, then activated the comm. "Hykor." he said. "Sir, we have a visitor. A Graffion Maruhuey, looking for employment. I normally wouldn't bother you, but..." Dak understood what the last part meant. The visitor had done something to impress the secretary when he walked in. Which would be difficult to do, considering how highly trained he was. Dak put his comm back in his pocket and turned back to Fira. "Looks like it's our lucky day. Three new recruits in one day. Make yourself comfortable, and call me if you need anything," he said, tossing her an ESA-frequency-programmed comlink.
He walked out into the hallway, took the turbolift down, and then stood outside the doorway into the lobby. He knocked on the wall ever-so-slightly, and he heard the Secretary say "One moment." He waited, and then the secretary came through the doorway. "Alright, what'd he do?" "Sir, I know it's a minor thing, but I couldn't hear a single footstep he made coming in. In fact, the only noise I heard was him opening the door and talking to me, and I can hear a blaster being set from stun to kill from a hundred meters away...." Dak rubbed his chin in thought. "Alright. Give him one of the non-disclosure agreements, and then run him through the interview. If you think he's good enough, Send him to my office, and I'll set him up with a basement test or two." Quietly, he added, "In a different room, this time..." The secretary nodded. "Yes sir," he said, then strode back into the lobby. Dak heard him sit down. "Alright, sir. First, we have to begin an interview...."
Dak walked by the doorway, headed to the kitchen again, and he turned his head and looked into the lobby as he passed. His eyes met the man for a second, before his view was blocked again by the walls. He went to the kitchen, and began making himself another sandwich, and then realized his Night Vision Goggles were still on his head. Chuckling, he pulled them off and sat them down on the counter. What a sight for a newcomer to see... he thought to himself.
((ooc: Alrighty, the interview is simply stuff like you would really hear in a job interview... and stuff more military-like, lol. If you'd like, we can just press the fast-forward button through the whole interview, lol.))
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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May 23, 2009 17:11:18 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on May 23, 2009 17:11:18 GMT -5
Graffion listened patiently to the secretary as the discussion progressed. He couldn't help but think about the man he had seen walk by. Night Vision goggles wasn't a common thing. He figured he was getting himself into a more organized and pricey group than he was thought. For a moment he wandered what ESA stood for, but brushed it off, answering the rather standard questions as though he was interviewing for a security job at a market. ( Sure. )
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last online Sept 21, 2010 6:04:53 GMT -5
Knight
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May 26, 2009 9:06:59 GMT -5
Post by Val - Warning:Contains Sarcasm on May 26, 2009 9:06:59 GMT -5
Fira nodded as she was left alone in the office, sliding into one of the chairs in the corner and relaxing. The soft seats reminded her of what she had really been lacking for the last few hours. Well, for several days really. She hadn't relaxed up until now, if this could be called relaxing. Although the chairs downstairs were comfortable, they weren't as luxurious as this one. Not even close. She wasn't sure if it was the seat or the tiredness, the safe environment, or all those things, but she could feel herself drifting off to sleep. She placed the comlink on the arm of the chair and withdrew into herself, keeping her body warm as she drifted asleep with the metallic shard still gripped within her hand.
The dream, of what she could remember, was hazy and dark. A few small lights were surrounding what appeared to be a large room. Across from where she was, she could see a door opening with two large figures filling it. Two figures in heavy armour, similar to what she had seen today. She must have said something, or made a noise though, because one of them approached her. She could see his mask now, with red eyes. It was faceless, but intimidating. She wanted to move backwards, to escape from wherever she was, but found she couldn't move. She was stuck in place.
The man drew a knife of some sort. Twirling it with expert grace around his fingers. Usually she would be impressed, but at the moment all she could feel was afraid. At once he moved into her, thrusting the knife into her chest and across her arms She tried to scream, but it would not have been of any use, and though she tried she couldn't make any noise. The man completed his maneauvor by whipping the knife across her throat.
She woke up quickly in a cold sweat, adrenaline pumping through her body. She stood up quickly, emptying her hands as she grasped her head to relieve the pounding of a headache. She tried to breathe deeply as if it would help get rid of the migraine, but to no avail. She was feeling ill and her arms, chest and neck all hurt as if the dream had been real. She wearily opened an eye, glancing down at her arms. They were red, bleeding even. She froze, not knowing what was happening or why. She ran back to the chair, grabbing the comlink and fumbling with it. She didn't even know if the thing was on, or how long she had been asleep.
"Hello? Hello? I need a doctor or something."
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last online Apr 15, 2021 13:10:52 GMT -5
Knight
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Jun 4, 2009 11:25:17 GMT -5
Post by Mr.Bøbert on Jun 4, 2009 11:25:17 GMT -5
Dak finished making another sandwich, and sat down on a couch to watch the wrestling match, waiting for the interview of the new-recruit-to-be to be finished. The match was more interesting then he had expected, it was between a muscular zabrak who was at least 6'9", and a normal-sized human. Somehow, the human was dodging every blow the Zabrak threw at him, almost as if he knew where they were going to be before the got there. He did not throw any punches of his own, for some reason, and just dodged every punch, elbow or kick. After several minutes of this, the human seemed as if he had enough. He grabbed one of the zabrak's kicks, then twisted him around, throwing the zabrak onto the ground. Before he could get up, the human leaped into the air --almost three times his height-- and slammed his elbow into the zabrak as he came down. The crowd watching the fight roared, and medical personnel came in and dragged the unconscious zabrak away. Dak guessed the human was some sort of Force-adept, just as his comm beeped.
"Commander, We're through with the interview. Shall I send him in?" Dak picked up the comm, and pressed the 'talk' button. "No, I'll come and get him on the way to my office." he answered. He stood up, then started walking down the hallway. He entered the lobby, and motioned for the man to follow him. He brought him to his office-- one of two, the one on this floor being more of a command center then anything else, with a large holo-projector in the center, and the one he had left Fira in on the second floor more office-like. He motioned for the man to sit down at one side of a desk, while Dak sat on the other side. "First of all--" was all he was able to get out before his comm came to life again. It was Fira. "Hello? Hello? I need a doctor or something." Dak stood up, and hurried to the door. "Excuse me, I'll be right back." he said, as he hurried out the door. He walked to the turbolift-- though there was more spring in his step, almost like a jog, and then took it up.
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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Jun 4, 2009 19:27:31 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on Jun 4, 2009 19:27:31 GMT -5
Graffion followed Dak quietly, not saying a word. He observed the buildings halls as they passed, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. To any normal people, it seemed like just a normal building. He saw the employees all hanging around the lounge, and narrowed his eyes, studying them. At first it seemed like they were all just hanging out, which they were, but upon closer inspection, Graffion could tell that these men were finely honed warriors. Muscles, demeanor, the simple way they acted. Any seasoned assassin could easily tell whether someone was a fighter just by looking at a few things. And surely, these men were either equipped or were very close to weapons if the need arise. The thought brought a chuckle to Graffion.
He effortlessly maintained his stealth, his feet making not a sound, and if one didn't know better, he could have easily slipped away. He mildly entertained the thought for a moment, but quickly dismissed it.
The office was small, and seemed less like a man's office as it did a command center. He walked around the holo-projector and took a seat. The man was just about to say something, when a distraught voice rang out. Graffion looked at the intercomm for a moment, but otherwise didn't react. The moment that Dak was gone, however, he began looking around the room, remaining seated. He was searching for camera's or any other sort of security systems.
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last online Sept 21, 2010 6:04:53 GMT -5
Knight
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Jun 19, 2009 18:07:46 GMT -5
Post by Val - Warning:Contains Sarcasm on Jun 19, 2009 18:07:46 GMT -5
The bleeding had almost stopped by now. It wasn't a soothing feeling though. She still didn't know why she had been bleeding in the first place. There was nothing sharp in reach of her, short of the corner of the desk which was a good few feet from where she was sitting. The piece of metal she had hold of was smooth. Her clothing was smooth, she had no syringes... No wait, the metal thing! The piece of scrap she'd taken from the training room. The piece that had came from the robot. She'd taken that for something to fumble with to waste time. The things she'd seen, the warriors, they hadn't attacked her. They'd attacked the robot. Was she oversympathising with the robot now? Was she going crazy? This was all she needed. First she can't remember her past, then she finds she's only got memories of how to kill things, she finds she can read people's emotions, can do Airing, and can somehow see images.
I'm mental. She finally resigned, stroking the forearms of her hands a little. Self harming behaviour? Probably. And then she conveniently forgot she'd done it. Just like she'd forgotten 13 years of her life. Great. So she was a danger to others, and now a danger to herself? Where was she supposed to go from here? How could she be expected to be part of some sort of organisation that included heavy weapons, demolitions, espionage and assassinations when she's harming herself in her sleep? She stood up, making her way for the elevator to take her back down. Hopefully she could leave her without anyone noticing. Maybe find another place to work, or to stay, or find someone to help. Or find somewhere to die. She really wasn't picky at the moment. She was confused, and the highly secretive organisation wasn't helping her thought processes.
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last online Apr 15, 2021 13:10:52 GMT -5
Knight
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Jun 22, 2009 9:35:59 GMT -5
Post by Mr.Bøbert on Jun 22, 2009 9:35:59 GMT -5
Dak stepped out of the turbolift into the hallway, and nearly ran Fira over. There was a ton of blood on her arms, but he could see no large wounds or any sort of cut at all... wait, there were tiny marks, cuts that had already closed. His eyes widened in surprise. "What in the world happened?!" he said, trying to think of what it had could've been. He slowly pulled his pistol out of his holster, glancing around the hallways. Perhaps they had an intruder? No, impossible. But maybe it had been some sort of bug? There were many tiny creatures that could sneak into the building, but why would they go after the new recruit? A child? Why not go after him, or one of the Force Users? And why was she still alive? Maybe it was just to deliver a warning of a sort? Maybe she had made some pretty nasty enemies? It couldn't have been the group he'd taken care of earlier, they were just like common thugs, and didn't seem to have much money. His eyes continued darting around the room while the dozens of questions went through his mind.
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last online Sept 21, 2010 6:04:53 GMT -5
Knight
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Jun 22, 2009 10:25:21 GMT -5
Post by Val - Warning:Contains Sarcasm on Jun 22, 2009 10:25:21 GMT -5
The elevator arrived, quicker than she had expected, and she was about to step into it when she was greeted with the face of the same man who had brought her up earler. She avoided his steps out of the lift, if rather narrowly, and moved away to give him space to move. He himself realised they were close to a collision and also moved to avoid her. It was the second he looked down that she quickly realised that he was looking at her arms, and although she wanted to hide them immediately, she ultimately felt there would be little point. He looked, dumbstruck, and had the appearance on his face that he was attempting to figure out what had happened. He actually asked her bluntly what had happened, and she just shook her head, not really knowing what to say. How do you tell someone you don't even know that you think you are going crazy? She didn't even believe it herself. Maybe a progression from the amnesia, but she wasn't sure. At least, before she wasn't. It made sense though.
She rubbed her eyes, feeling them ache from the tears she's wanted to suppress, before tracing the outline of the tattoo a little with a finger as she thought. "I don't know. I was asleep and dreaming and then I just woke up and found my arms... my arms like this. I think I should go. I'm not safe to be around." She struggled with the words, and they were little more than a whisper, barely even audible. She constantly stared at the floor, not wanting to have to see the man's gaze as well as feel it.
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last online Jul 6, 2009 5:53:47 GMT -5
Youngling
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Jun 23, 2009 11:00:10 GMT -5
Post by savon on Jun 23, 2009 11:00:10 GMT -5
"I told you once-"
Pausing mid-sentence, Savon reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small, thin metal case and a lighter. Opening the case like a book, he withdrew a cigarra and placed it between his teeth, closing the case and returning it to its pocket as he lit the protruding end. Tightening his lips around the wrapped tabac, he slowly inhaled, filling his lungs with smoke. For a few seconds, he held it in as he gazed down on the woman laying at his feet. Human, or at least close to it. Her nose and mouth were bleeding, badly, as were several cuts and lacerations around her head, and it was painfully obvious upon first glance that she'd taken quite the beating. Nobody on the relatively quiet street cared. They simply continued along their own ways, walking around the two. It was nothing they hadn't seen a thousand times before, and nobody wanted to get involved in someone else's affairs. Not on Nar Shaddaa.
To be fair, the woman and her friends had left a few of their own marks. A split lip, black eye, and more than a few bruises on his torso were the hunter's share of the pain. On the other hand, all of the woman's friends were dead, and though conscious, she wasn't getting up herself any time soon, so for being outnumbered by five armed goons and the one playing the bait, he figured he hadn't done half-bad for himself. It had been a short, albeit brutal, engagement, and now all that was left was the bait and the target, and the outcome wasn't appearing to favor the bait. Ah well. He'd warned them, but it seemed as though nobody listened anymore. Perhaps it would have been better if he started allowing a reputation grow among the general populace; thugs tended to leave you alone more often when they knew you could kill them and all their friends without over-exerting yourself. Fear was a powerful weapon.
Exhaling through his nostrils, Savon slid the massive Harbinger from its place on his hip, leveling it at his fallen opponent as the smoke rose above him, mixing with the already polluted air of the Smuggler's Moon. Without so much as a flicker of remorse, or even hesitation in his lifeless blue eyes, he stared down the length of the barrel at the woman as she struggled to get away and tried desperately to force coherent pleas from her mouth only long enough to line up the sights.
"-not to test me."
Alas, fear only spread through the living, and the Nightmare didn't leave survivors. As a trail of smoke wisped out the end of the giant barrel, and the passers-by started putting their various assortments of weaponry away, the hunter cracked the weapon open and stepped over the lifeless corpse, dropping five large, empty casings across her chest as he moved.
"You should have listened."
-----
Leaning forward in his booth, Savon set his elbow on the table and rested his forehead against the palm of his hand with a weary sigh, puffing in general annoyance on a cigarra. "Remind me my I keep coming back here...? Not even two hours on this cursed moon and I've already killed six idiots."
"You sure 'ave a way with people. Your charming personality got you into trouble again?"
Savon stared blankly at the Rodian sitting across from him. After several seconds of silence, the Rodian shifted uncomfortably and the hunter slowly raised an eyebrow.
"...anyways, as I was saying. I've got it on pretty good authority that there's a group of mercs looking to hire-"
"That's all you've got? A group of mercs?"
"A legit PMC-"
Savon set his forearms on the table and leaned farther forward. "Just one in a thousand. I'm not paying you for something I can find on the 'net."
The Rodian raised his hands defensively. "This isn't a group you'll find on the Holonet, 'uman. At least not on Coruscant, I'd wager. I 'ear the pay is good, and the work is neutral. You can find their recruiting station here." Pulling a datapad off his belt, he set it on the table and slid it across. Savon fingered it gently and glanced at its surface, skimming its contents, letting his main hand rest on his thigh. Something was off. His senses were telling him more than enough to know that he'd walked into a trap, and he'd heard of the ESA before. They weren't nearly as secretive as they were being made out as.
"This is all well and good, Tershak, but why exactly couldn't you tell me all this over a communicator?"
"Because-"
It was a faint sound, so very faint, probably inaudible to most over the sounds of the cantina. But Savon wasn't most, and the sound of a blaster charging in the booth behind him was as unmistakable to him as Basic. The smugness the Rodian's tone had taken on wasn't necessary for him to realize what was about to happen.
"-the boss wanted you here. Easier for us that way."
A thin smile creased the hunter's lips, causing the Rodian to shift slightly again. "I told you once, Tershak-" In a blur, the hunter was on his side, his boot planted firmly against the wall, and his hand already pulling his sidearm from its holster as a red bolt burned through the backboard where his head had so very recently been, nearly hitting the Rodian sitting across from him. With a grunt, he pushed himself off the wall and out of the booth, swinging his torso in mid-air. The Harbinger was already facing the right direction before he hit the ground, and by the time his shoulder-blades touched the cold floor, the trigger had been pulled. The thug that had been sitting behind him barely had enough time to realize what had just happened before the massive tungsten slug slammed into the side of his neck, tearing through the carotid artery, the muscle behind it, and finally the spine like a sledgehammer through paper before it broke the skin and embedded itself in the thick wall behind him. The Twi'lek sitting across from the now nearly headless thug froze as his associate's blood sprayed over him. In an instance, he recoiled and brought his own blaster up. Until the afterlife, he'd never know he was a bit too late on the uptake.
Still on the floor, Savon turned his attention back to the Rodian as the cantina returned to its normal flow. Nobody knew the dead guys, and none of them were in danger, so it wasn't their concern. Nar Shaddaa did have its bonuses. One or two.
"-I told you not to test me."
Rolling onto his shoulder, he pushed himself up and calmly walked back to the booth, seemingly ignoring the trembling Rodian. He picked his cigarra off the table to again placed it between his teeth. For a brief moment, he contemplated letting Tershak live so he could give his boss a message. Picking up the datapad, he again looked over its contents. Not even raising his head, he brought the Harbinger up, aimed from the corner of his eye, and fired. The Nightmare didn't leave survivors, and could be was a message in and of itself.
"Hmm. I suppose I could use the credits."
-----
Not twenty minutes later, Savon was standing outside the glass door of the ESA's recruitment center, Verpine rifle slung over his shoulder and half-spent cigarra pressed between his lips. His eye had since turned an interesting shade of purple and his upper lip had stopped bleeding, and his dark brown shirt and his jacket both sported a fair amount of blood, but...well, he'd looked worse when looking for work before, and he wasn't exactly the sort who dressed to impress. If someone would accept you by the way you looked, then they weren't the kind of people he wanted to work with anyways.
Shifting the strap of his rifle with a gloved hand, he blew out a cloud of smoke and started forward, pushing the door open. Not paying attention to any one thing, nor even appearing to be very alert, he nonetheless took in his surroundings in remarkable detail, primarily all the entrances and exits to the room and all the people inside, and especially the two guards. His main hand remained loose at his side, ready to move at a moments notice, his movement stayed relaxed and quiet, and his face bore a dull and tired look, but his cold, hardened eyes never stopped moving for long. To the casual observer, he may have appeared too tired to care, even oblivious to his surroundings, but he was far from it. Without taking a second glance, he could tell you exactly what each of the guards was equipped with, what color the man at the front desk's eyes were, and how far from the door he was, and though his eyes remained forward, his ears told him every little movement the guards behind him made. He was prepared to kill, instantly, without hesitation and without remorse Every step closer to the desk, his mind ran through numerous scenarios. In the jungle, a second spent unaware would likely mean your death. Nar Shaddaa was just a different type of jungle, and mercenaries another type of predator.
Predators. Just like him.
Stopping at the desk, he fixed the man behind it with an empty look "My name is Kilos. I was told a man of my skills could find work here." He said simply, his gravelly baritone remaining low and level, devoid of much of anything, save an ever-present trace of bitterness lying just below the surface.
He puffed idly on his cigarra.
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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Jun 24, 2009 0:10:18 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on Jun 24, 2009 0:10:18 GMT -5
Graffion moved without setting off any security devices, going to the desk. He decided he'd play a little observation game with his future employer. Shifting papers and other things slightly, and then taking a mini holoprojector on the right hand corner of the desk, and trading it with a stack of papers on the left hand corner of the desk. If his new employer was observative, he might notice the insignificant change, if not, Graffion would be none the worse, and none the better. The better his comrades were in any field, the better off Graffion was. And observation was one of the most important skills of an expert assassin.
Silently, he took his seat back, staying out of view of everything else. he decided it best not to rummage through the desk or papers...Best not to push your luck when in the heart of a defensible enemy base.
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