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May 10, 2010 21:58:18 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on May 10, 2010 21:58:18 GMT -5
There just wasn’t enough time to go around, it seemed…
The darkness surrounding her had easily swallowed the woman, the experimental cloak she wore keeping her easily concealed within the shadows, her glowing eyes hidden behind dark tinted glasses which showed the world to her in vibrant hues of green that contrasted with the deep blacks of the shadows around her. Orange words and longitude-latitude coordinates lit one corner of her vision, the rest free for her eyes to scan her surroundings. Her rifle had been left behind on the transport, twin blasters settled against her hips instead as they hung from her belt, the dual vibroblades at her back as usual.
A movement caught her eyes from a short distance off and she slipped silently into the next group of shadows, slinking silently past the obnoxious light that pooled in the middle of the alley. Cerulean hued features angled further as she slipped up behind her first target when he moved once again. The soft clatter of his flashlight hitting the ground was muffled further as she hooked one arm under his chin and pulled back, the dagger that had appeared in her other hand sweeping fully along his exposed throat and used her minor talents in the force to slow the fall of the object he’d dropped. Letting the twi’lek slump to the ground with a gurgle she moved on, slipping around the corner and through the darkness to the back door entrance.
Sender was already there, clinging to the drain pipe of the building after having cut the alarms to the building. This allowed her time to slip the key card she’d lifted off one of the previous sentries into the card slot and move inside without having to worry about the alarm box settled against the far wall and the sleeping guard there should she have to find another way out beside the one she had planned. The sound of loud music from the nightclub attached to the building had her relatively surprised that the rodian behind the desk could actually get any sleep at all…Passing by the door leading to the main room, the spectrum of brightly colored lights danced beneath it to the music, catching her eye with their movement momentarily as she crept up the small stairwell.
He had to be in here somewhere…all the information led here, all the interrogations, all the data trails, all the whispers from the underworld, all the many days of gaining cooperation from others in some form or other (by some means or another), all the watching, the waiting, the planning, the mapping…all of this work, he had to be here. It wasn’t difficult for her to creep along the hallway, under the sight of the security cameras, by slipping through their blind spots and along the walls with the help of that ever shifting cloak. Heavy though it might be from the reflective metal threads worked through the light absorbing gray threads, she was more difficult to detect…especially in the gray-scale hues the cameras used. Door three, door four, janitorial closet…the sound of footsteps around the corner had her lithe form shifting and slipping in through the door of the closet as it opened and shut swiftly. Weaving her way backward silently, she pressed herself back against the darkest corner, behind several mops and brooms, pulling her cloak tightly around her and that hood down further.
The sound of footsteps stopped outside the door, the presence there turning its attention on the closet cautiously, curiously, and she willed it to be disinterested once more. She was, as often reminded, no jedi…and the compulsions failed to take hold, the door sliding open to reveal the human on the other side. His eyes swept swiftly through the seemingly empty closet, and right over Rahja without ever seeing her. Good. He stepped back again with a shrug and the door slid closed once more, his footfalls receding again in the direction of the stairs. Her breath was let out and another calming one brought in before she worked her way out from behind the mops once more. Probing out through the force, the guard that had just passed was now half a floor below her and the rest of the floor was relatively clear. Deaths were to be kept at a minimum, she reminded herself again, and moved out into the hallway once again. It would have been so much more simple to deal with the patrolling guards so that they couldn’t accidentally happen upon her…but no.
Fifth door, sixth, seventh…last door on the right. She probed into the room through the force, checking for extra life…to her chagrin there was none.
No life at all…
Cursing silently, she started to enter the key code and the door slid open.
Open doors were rarely good.
Stepping in swiftly, one of those blasters came up as she scanned the room, the other hand holding one of her daggers along her forearm. Moving through the large office space cautiously she eyed the open window from behind those dark tinted glasses. Her back was kept facing the wall until she came to the one of the two doors in the room, opening the door she found the closet, bare of all but a hung coat and hat. Reaching in with the hand holding the dagger, she checked behind the coat, just to be sure. Looking up, she checked the ceiling of the closet as well…solid roofing and nothing…closet was clear. It may have seemed over kill for her to check such things if she had use of the force, but she didn’t completely trust her under-developed senses to accurately inform her of if someone really WAS there or not…much better to check and be certain. Moving along the wall further, she came to the point where she could see behind the desk.
The blue nimbus of light from the computer system lit the slightly turned chair…running and on the main desktop…but that wasn’t what bothered her. No. What bothered her was the pile of human on the floor between the chair and desk. A dead mark, that wasn’t dead by HER hands, was NOT a good thing. Her next motions brought her swiftly through the center of the room, past the body and to the open window. A glance up showed nothing, and a glance down was also a fruitless endeavor. A few more swift steps and she came silently upon the only other door in the office. It slid open and she pressed her shoulder to the frame, taking in one side of the room for danger before moving blaster first around the frame and into the small side room. No one visible outright, and a swift search of it found no one ”invisible” either. Hurrying back out of the room, she pressed a button on the side of her glasses before switching her com to Sender on.
Sender, record this and save it.
Understood Crouching down beside it, gloved hands turned the body over carefully, her head moving so the miniature optics in the glasses sent what she was seeing to her companion outside, those things catching the details that she might need later. Pressing one finger to the throat mic once again, she spoke softly once more.
This wasn’t Hound work, Sender…I don’t know any of us that work like this and…
She stood, turning to look at the display on the computer and the desk.
I'm not sure why, but I get the feeling he wasn’t the only thing whoever was here was after. There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise, but I'm getting that impression from the force.
She rifled through a few of the papers stacked along the desktop. Foerost Shipyards stock evaluations…normal. A letter from his friend in the Shipyard board of directors…normal. A message from his wife on his datapad…upon scrolling through it, that too appeared normal. Heh…get more laundry detergent on the way home? Not tonight Melinda…not tonight. She set the datapad down again and sifted through a few more papers…wages for the club workers, time sheets, shipping requests for restocks, live band pay stubs, bills…the datapad dinged and she looked over. Picking it up again, she looked at the name on the message. One of his former employers that he ‘hadn’t ever heard of before in his life’ eh? Silencing the thing, she slipped it into her belt and headed for he door once again, holstering her blaster, but keeping that blade in her hand. Probing out through the force again, she cut the feed to Sender and pressed her finger to that mic at her throat again.
I’ll meet you in the front.
Understood.
Now…to get down to the club and slip through that door before the guards ever knew she was there…
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Vex
A Self-styled computer geek that moonlights as a G.I. Joe.
1,014 posts
2 likes
Proud bearer of the "Polish Stalker Badge".
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last online May 21, 2018 17:30:54 GMT -5
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May 23, 2010 23:57:37 GMT -5
Post by Vex on May 23, 2010 23:57:37 GMT -5
Rizzen sat back in a booth, back facing the front of the club and giving him a good view of the dance floor and the gyrating bodies upon it beneath the strobing lights and heavy bass thud of the music. More specifically, it gave him an unadulterated view of the entry doors leading into the nightclub.
As he sat there, sipping idly at his drink, he found himself grateful that he'd chosen to not allow Wash into this section of the building. Given the strobing technicolor of the lights, the poor droid would have been having an epileptic fit. That line of thought was interrupted as a pair of young and buxom women walked by. One was Arkanian and the other was Bothan and, despite the physiological differences, they had both chosen to wear the same attire. There really wasn't enough cloth there to count as clothing, but he assumed that's what it's purpose was. He flashed a grin...a return salvo to the smiles they sent his way. His expression was polite, but his body language was dismissive. He was on business, after all...not to have a good time. A subtle shift of the pheremone cloud managed to coerce them into going along their way without incident.
There was always next time, after all...
The concealed earpiece crackled slightly in his ear, causing him to tilt his head ever so slightly to shield it somewhat from the noise coming from the main of the room. “Hey Cap’n… just lost connection with the perimeter alarms.”
“Good, Wash. Looks like my dance partner has arrived. Assume that she knows the positioning of the security cameras. Keep an eye on them, but put your priority on the systems you planted, specifically on the angles for the back entrances, the primary’s office, and the system blind spots. Focus on sound, then attempt to confirm with visual.”
“Shiny, Cap’n. Um…Cap’n?”
Rizzen gave a good natured sigh, “Yes, Wash?”
“You are aware that the booth guard and the primary are both dead, right?”
“Yes, Wash. It’s not our concern. They baited the trap. How they did it isn’t my concern. Making sure it’s successful is.”
“Right. Got it, Cap’n. Hey….uh…what’s with all the flashing colors coming from the club?”
“Don’t worry about it, Wash. You need to focus on the mission.”
“Right. Focus. I can be focused. During testing they said I could be centered, even engaged. I was even considered to be rapt at one time.”
“Good.”
“Back entrance just opened. I can… there’s movement, but it’s hard to make out. Maybe something’s going on with my optical receptors I…”
“The client stated that she may have access to high-level tech. I’m sure your optics are fine. Key in on the motion through our cameras. No doubt she’ll be staying in the building’s blind spots.”
The fact that she had entered made him wonder if she’d checked the Rodian guard stationed in the booth. He looked as though he was sleeping peacefully…but that was only because he was wearing a dark shirt. A closer inspection would have noticed the slightly darker color around the throat, where microfilament wire had been wrapped around and pulled through. He’d died without ever completely waking up. He, of course, knew what she was going to find. It was ugly, brutal, and entirely unnecessary in his eyes. Her target simply could have not been there for her to find. She still would have wound up in the same place, but the man wouldn’t have been dead then. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his call and it wasn’t part of his contract. Given that, he couldn’t do much more than simply shrug and go on with the job as it had been laid out for him. He would, however, add in some other stipulations to any future contracts brokered between himself and the Empire.
That was neither here nor there, however. Now it was simply completing the task that he’d been given. It was only a moment later when Wash came back over his comms. “Okay boss, she’s seen the target. Looks like she’s a little spooked, checking the other room. Um…dunno what she’s doing now, but she’s headed for the door.”
“Good. Lock down the exterior exits, maximum security. Leave only the access door open to the main club area. With any luck, the press of life and Force in the area will muddle any senses that she has and help make this less complicated.”
“Doors locking down now.”
“Then it’s her move.”
Her target had spent some money on the secondary security measures. The maglocks on the outside doors were military grade and the doors and frames themselves were reinforced with durasteel. For whatever reason, he’d skimped and gone simple with the door into the main club area. Rizzen didn’t understand it, but it worked to his benefit. No doubt she’d have the same access to blueprints and intelligence and would know that once the doors locked down to the outside, the only quick or remotely easy access to exit was through the club again. The club had safety protocols to follow, after all.
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
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May 24, 2010 1:57:01 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on May 24, 2010 1:57:01 GMT -5
Rahja…we have a problem.
That was not what she wanted to hear. That was NEVER what she wanted to hear…especially after there was already a problem. Clenching her teeth she kept the mic between them on, but didn’t say a word. Now was the best time for her to go, the hall was clear as much as she could sense and she didn’t want to be caught here with a dead employer.
The doors out just locked down…as if they were tripped. Someone knows we’re here, they have to. Get out as quickly as you can, and BE CAREFUL.
A soft huff of air was he only reply as she crept back down the hall, slinking through the shadows and keeping an eye out for the guards that tended to patrol the halls. Needless to say, they would likely be on a higher alert…doors sealing wasn’t exactly a quiet process. Ducking into that broom closet again, she finally replied to Sender. After all, this room wasn’t wired with cameras, or potentially bugged somewhere…and if it was…well then whoever bugged it deserved to hear what she said for being clever enough to know EXACTLY what room she’d hide out in.
Get to the panels and see if you can bypass the doors or scramble the signal that’s locking them down…get me whatever info you can. I can’t risk time in the control room.
I’ll do what I can.
Well, that was going to have to be good enough. Another sweep of the hall through the force and she caught the guard as he passed by the door to the closet she was in. In one swift move she was through the door and pulling him into a sleeper hold, letting him pass out before slipping in through his mind and making sure he stayed out for a good long while. Two steps and she dragged him back into the closet and left him there. Too bad Sender wasn’t around…he’d have been proud of her for not killing the guy. Heading carefully down the stairs, she slipped beneath the camera around the corner and headed for the doors to the club.
Rah…I'm trying to scramble this signal without cutting the power but…something keeps bypassing me again. Someone has to be in there controlling the doors. There isn’t any kind of remote here to indicate that it’s being done from somewhere else. I can cut the power, do you want to risk it?
Stupid bird…how did he expect her to reply to that right now? That was about the time she caught the rather…bloody…mess that had been the sleeping rodian. Well that was unnecessary…and again, not her work. By the now considerably paler color of his skin he’d been dead by the time she’d gotten here, if not before. Sighing, she shook her head, weighing the options.
<<Yes. Meet me at the front…nothing more you can do. Prep for trouble. Tracer is on.>>
She’d fallen into speaking in Cheunh, just in case anyone else was listening. Sender had already assimilated the language from the files she had taken from Csilla, allowing her to speak to him that way…in a language only a very few knew, or understood in any measure. With a short “3, 2, 1” from Sender, she slipped through the door and the power cut. Her eyes, already covered by the glasses, took in the dark moments before everything shaded greens and blacks. The cacophony of emotions, thoughts and prickling of her senses through the force battered against her just as the mounting confusion did against her ears as people struggled to either get outside or not injure themselves on each other. Without hesitation she pressed toward the exit through the throng of people, keeping an eye, an ear, and as much of her senses as she could out for trouble that she was certain was coming. Outside, Sender put his miniature fusion cutter away and dropped the wire and metal he held in on talon…the boards outside cut and fried completely before he took off into the sky and hurtled toward the front of the club.
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Vex
A Self-styled computer geek that moonlights as a G.I. Joe.
1,014 posts
2 likes
Proud bearer of the "Polish Stalker Badge".
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last online May 21, 2018 17:30:54 GMT -5
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May 26, 2010 23:49:11 GMT -5
Post by Vex on May 26, 2010 23:49:11 GMT -5
"She's moving again...hard to make out on the cameras...wait."
Rizzen waited, the comms open while Wash worked at something. Apparently the woman was doing something his little friend hadn't expected. That made him smile just a bit...professional admiration passing through him just a bit. Given her file and having seen her work thus far, he had a fair amount of respect for her abilities.
"Someone's trying to hack through the signal and backdoor the system, Cap'n. I'm putting up firewalls and locking them out of the systems, but they are persistent. Won't succeed, but persistent."
"Is it her?"
"Um...not likely...finally got something like a picture of her in the hall with our cameras. She's currently choking out one of the roving guards."
"Then its likely she has outside assistance. Keep them locked down...she might have them try something else. No doubt, given your interference, they know someone is onto them. They might grow desperate."
"Sure thing, boss...ain't nothing getting by m-..."
That was about the time the lights went out.
"Uh...Cap'n..."
"I know, Wash. Get yourself out of there and go to the front. There's nothing more you're going to be able to do there. Pick up any of the surveillance systems you can without slowing you down. Things are about to happen quickly and we won't be able to waste time after. Remember the contingency plans we created. This was not an unexpected possibility."
"Roger that."
If she had the power cut, she likely had night vision equipment with which to use to navigate the insanity that was now on the dance floor and within the club as close to a thousand half-naked bodies scrambled, collided, and otherwised caused mayhem in their fear and lack of understanding.
Once the lights had went out, he had reached into his jacket and pulled out a pair of glasses. They were, perhaps, not quite as elegantly designed as her own, but they were more than sufficient. Putting them on, he saw the room and its chaos...and he also saw the oddity that Wash had no doubt seen. It was more that he saw motion... where the background was just out of sync with what was around it. That odd vision was moving with a purpose through the people.
He was fortunate. Her actions had heightened the emotional wash of the Force in the room. It would help mask him further from whatever senses she had, especially as fear was heightened with anger and violence...which was even now starting to escalate as people got more desperate. Standing, he tracked that visual anomaly with the singular purpose. No doubt she'd be seeing him in a minute as well....he planned on making it hard for her to see anything.
From his jacket he pulled out a small, gas-powered projector. Aiming it at one of the support poles ten feet from where she was, he depressed its activation switch. The projectile "whumped" out and arced over the throng's head, invisible to them, and impacted. Just before, he closed his eyes, as the projectile began to strobe out rapidly at close to 50,000 lux...like direct sunlight. Pulling off his glasses, he opened his eyes to the strobing picture, getting used to it as everthing seemed to move in disjointed patterns around him....then pushed on through to intercept her, beginning to pump out his pheremones to calm those around him and make them feel that the threat was lessened by him. As he got closer, it would eventually start reaching her.
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
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May 29, 2010 22:14:29 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on May 29, 2010 22:14:29 GMT -5
As she moved, one hand had reached up beneath that concealing cloak and activated the small homing device concealed within one of her two necklaces, the miniature gear beneath her thumb turning just enough to activate it and start pulsing the signal to Sender. That was when the skin on the back of her neck started to prickle. She didn’t need the force to tell her when someone was watching her…she’d spent enough time in this line of work to recognize the feeling even through the chaos. Turning her head, she spotted the lone figure standing perfectly calm and still through the rising havoc. Reaching inward, she focused on her calm emotions and pressed them outward to those around her. She couldn’t make others move from her path via telepathy, or clear space around her with telekinesis, so the most she could do to help herself was calm those she neared to allow her to pass them more easily.
Continuing through the masses, she kept her senses sharp, listening to the din around her and watching the movements of the people. Another glance in the direction of the form she’d caught a glimpse of earlier. From this vantage she was able to make out the race of the man…a falleen…just as his arm dropped back to his side and the first strobe of light burst through those light enhancing glasses. Biting back a cry of pain, her eyes shut tightly and instinct had her fumbling for the switch on the glasses to cut the night vision. Whether she got it or not, she wouldn’t be able to tell as her (already light sensitive) eyes flickered between black and white obscuring her vision. With pain the only thing on her mind, Rah knew she had to do something about it…so once again she reached inward and dampened the pain enough to allow her to actually think more clearly. With her mind less focused on the pain, she worked on moving through the crowd, the force allowing her to feel the presences of others around her and (a bit less fluidly than previously) work her way through the throng.
As she moved, his approach was marked with a growing calm…a calm that was out of place, she reminded herself. She’d seen him (before she was blinded, anyway)…the falleen, watching her with the intensity of a hawk after its prey. Falleen had pheromones, and she was well acquainted with the effects of pheromones from her dealings with Crass and other zeltrons. Had he been a zeltron she might have attempted to shield her mind further from the false suspicion of emotional projection, but Falleen didn’t have that talent…and she knew it. While the knowledge did little to actually counteract the effects of the pheromones, it kept her from outright falling prey to them and giving in to her desire to believe that he wasn’t a threat to her. Opening her eyes again, she tested her sight again…she could barely even see blurs, and the continued strobing certainly didn’t help anything.
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Vex
A Self-styled computer geek that moonlights as a G.I. Joe.
1,014 posts
2 likes
Proud bearer of the "Polish Stalker Badge".
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last online May 21, 2018 17:30:54 GMT -5
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May 31, 2010 16:13:42 GMT -5
Post by Vex on May 31, 2010 16:13:42 GMT -5
The light worked better than intended. He watched her body jerk from the shock, the motion seeming more aggravated by the strobing of the light. The blur was scrabbling near the top, no doubt attempting to turn off or remove whatever means she had been using for light amplification. Regardless of that, however, he watched her begin moving, though her way through the crowd was much less smooth and easy than it had been before.
He'd moved him along in an intercept trajectory, the two of them meeting up less than thirty meters from the door. Even with his pheremones and the wash of emotions from the crowd dulling her senses, he expected that his initial attack was going to be felt...at least to a degree that she might be able to deflect. Under that assumption, his attempt to incapacitate her was not immediate. He needed her fully committed and limited in options and maneuverability...he expected he'd only have one shot to knock her out.
Certainly, he could have done something crass, knocked out her and everyone around her...but it wasn't his style. He wasn't the "big stick" type...preferring a more surgical method. Therefore, he moved in close, where his style of combat could be more effective and where he had a small advantage. Given her dossier, he fully expected her to be very proficient at hand to hand and no doubt moreso with melee and ranged. Close-in unarmed combat was his forte, however, and therefore, had the highest probability for success.
With one soul inbetween them now, he grabbed the man's shoulders and pushed him down, send him tumbling toward Rahja's legs. It was a necessary evil, one to get her to react to a threat and put her off-balance. He was fairly certain that the man would suffer only minimal injuries. If that wasn't the case, he'd figure out a method for providing reparations later. Being able to see the man's frantic face allowed him to commit it to memory.
When she reacted to that danger, he'd move forward to catch her in mid-motion when she was most off-balance and limited in options, getting in low, quick, and hard. His jacket and pants were lined with plates of thin beskar tiles woven in to provide some protection while still allowing maximum mobility and sound dampening. The only solid items of armor he wore were light beskar bracers around his forearms (hiddedn by the jacket), and the uppers of his boots to protect the calf and shins. These allowed for more punishing blows to be inflicted while allowing him to still defend himself while in combat against melee weapons.
He struck quickly and in combinations, with fist, feet, knees, and elbows to try and harry her and wear her down.
Now everything was on the line.
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
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Jun 1, 2010 13:43:43 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jun 1, 2010 13:43:43 GMT -5
The closer Rizzen came, the more violently the warnings in the force battered against her fogging mind. The problem, however, was that she couldn’t tell (with all the commotion) where the warnings emanated from. Pressed out as her senses were, she was only of moderate talent in them…but it was enough to start her moving just as Rizzen shoved the man at her, allowing her to barely avoid the heap of devaronian that landed on the floor with a thud and string of curses that, in any other situation, the woman might have found amusing. Unfortunately for the blinded chiss, this was exactly what he’d been planning and, once committed, there wasn’t a way for her to stop short fast enough to avoid his actual attack. His first strike caught her hard in the gut, sending her staggering back and bringing that dagger up defensively before her as her other arm wrapped behind her and gripped the hilt of the other blade. When he continued to press her, she found herself hard-up to defend against him, blind as she was. Each time she tried for her second dagger he would harry her again, forcing her to use that arm to block him, or attempt to dance out of his way. More often than not she was on the receiving end of a bruising attack, her own missing him by millimeters with his unfair advantage of being able to see just what was going on.
Swiftly changing tactics, she pulled a small device from the back of her belt and allowed it to drop there as she felt the next wave of warnings in the force. With a turn of that cloak she swept the smoke from it toward him, hoping to vanish into the gathering cloud as she dropped the second of the four she had there followed by the swift snap of an emergency glow stick which was also dropped. People were stupid, especially in large groups and when already panicked…the orange-red glow of the emergency light among the rising smoke tended to only equate to one of two things in panic stricken minds: dark jedi (for those who truly feared them and had seen one too many holomovies), or fire (for those who were more intelligent than to think that a dark jedi would suddenly appear in a cloud of smoke and drop his saber on the floor). Through the force she radiated fear, pressing it out toward the others and woven with her own urge to get out swiftly. As this new unexpected turn of events and her silent urges caught the crowd, they pressed for the doors faster than ever. Allowing herself to be swept up with those around her, she knew they would guide her to the doors far more swiftly and easily than she could do herself, and with the press of bodies around her it would be more difficult for him to catch her without harming someone else in the process.
Was it bizarre and highly risky? Yes, of course, but she preferred to go with the bizarre and risky…it had worked for her so far. Not to mention, Rah held high standards for herself and her fighting ability, but she knew when she was (at least temporarily) outclassed or outmaneuvered…she knew when it was time to bow out so she could live to fight another day…this was one of those times. Blinded as she was, she knew (from their short interaction) that she was in no position to fight whoever this was, and she couldn’t risk being caught…and didn’t want to risk being killed.
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Vex
A Self-styled computer geek that moonlights as a G.I. Joe.
1,014 posts
2 likes
Proud bearer of the "Polish Stalker Badge".
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last online May 21, 2018 17:30:54 GMT -5
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Jun 2, 2010 20:35:08 GMT -5
Post by Vex on Jun 2, 2010 20:35:08 GMT -5
He'd managed to avoid damage himself. The quick reflexes, bracers, and the armored jacket helped as well as the blade was turned by the armor or only managed to knick leather and not flesh. She was talented though, keeping her cool well enough while he harried her so. It kept him from being able to shoot in and finish things. He was going to go for a disarm of that blade, but she was mindful enough to keep from giving him that chance.
When she made her move and shifted gears, she caught him by surprise. As the smoke billowed up and she became obscured, he cursed a bit, but in good nature. Oh yes, she definitely had her head on her shoulders. That improved his already burgeoning respect for her. It made this a bit more complicated...but he'd been careful to plan for contingencies just as she had. Reaching into the other side of his jacket, he pulled out a different set of glasses and slipped them on. He may not have access to all of the experimental military tech that she did, but he made sure that he got his hands on the most cutting-edge, quality equipment that he could.
That included these glasses, providing a high-definition imaging and allowing for fine differences in temperature to paint a picture fairly close to regular vision. The outer reaches of the room faded into blues and indigos...faces burned too brightly to get fine detail. Clothing, however, showed in surprisingly good detail. The nuances of heat as clothing was closer or farther, as it wrinkled and bunched, the differences of material...it painted a fine picture in thermal colors.
He focused on that. The mob running for the doors were the revellers. Their clothing was tighter, if it was there at all. There were so many of them as they tried to wash up against the exit to the club and find their way out. One figure amongst them was different, however. That figure was covered from head to toe, very much seeming like a cloak. The oddity of that garment was that it burned brighter, almost as though heat streaks were running through it. The fine details that should have been readily seen as it rippled and flowed with movements were almost non-existant.
That was his target. Closing on it, he pulled out the hold-out blaster that he'd hidden at the back of his belt, aiming and firing. It was configured for stun only...and only managed four shots. The spread should make it harder for her to dodge, but he wasn't banking on it taking her down. Given that he didn't know the capabilities of that cloak she had...it might very well protect her. It would, however, take some of the people around her out of the equation in a non-lethal manner, opening up the way as moved to close the distance.
Just before moving into striking range again, he pulled out one last item. It looked like a punching dagger, but the handle was hollow, filled with a tranquilizer. The end had a hypodermic needle that was pressure activated. When it struck, the needle would inject the quick-acting narcotic into her to put her out. His strikes before had helped, letting him know where to hit...where was softer and likely to puncture through. It would only work there...not on any armor or padded/protected parts.
He'd slam into her, once again with the salvo of punches, elbows, knees and kicks... punching with that specialized weapon whenever an opening presented itself.
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Jun 3, 2010 19:26:55 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jun 3, 2010 19:26:55 GMT -5
Rahja? Kel! Kelith?! What in the worlds is going on down there?! I'm detecting all sorts of erratic movement and…is that smoke?! You didn’t set the place on fire…DID you?!
<<Not now bird. I’ll need backup. Nearly blind here and this guy isn’t…>>
Sender’s concerned words and questioning had kept her from moving the cloak so she would appear more like the rest of the scantily clad patrons as she replied in cheunh instead. Her voice was just barely loud enough to be heard by him over the din, but it wouldn’t have mattered by now if her pursuer heard her or not. With those thermal optics, she was going to be visible to him anyway…even with the gathering smoke. Though her own vision was steadily improving from the blinding strobe he’d shot out in the beginning, the harried Hound member was still relying heavily on her other senses and the crush of people surrounding her and pressing her in the correct direction.
Or rather…she WAS relying on the crush of people.
She could feel the ones behind her beginning to thin causing those around her to scatter and press away from where she was. “Of all the gorram luck,” was the only thought she had before the third stun bolt pressed through her cloak, partially numbing her side and arm. Well, she had to hand it to this one…he was certainly clear headed and adept enough at his job to have planned for just about anything she could throw at him. Better than half the idiots that tried to stop her or capture her. If he weren’t hounding her (no pun intended) so badly, Rah might have felt something akin to respect for the person. As things stood, however, she was far more concerned with the wave of warning that washed over her through the force. Swinging around, she brought one arm up and pushed up those glasses so she could see more easily, the devilish red of her eyes glowing out suddenly from the depths of that hood.
The world was still a mass of blurred forms, but at least now, these forms had more defined shapes and colors…it was something she could work with, even though the strain to focus more accurately didn’t help the dull throb of pain the original flash had started in her head. Rounding on her attacker again, she found him there, far closer than she’d originally suspected. Cursing softly, she brought that arm around and behind her, allowing his first strike to careen past her. Fingers closed around the hilt of her second dagger and she pulled back, elbowing his arm aside and drawing the blade.
Her blurred vision didn’t allow her to see just what it was that he’d drawn, what it was he was attempting to hit her with…the injector that would make her all but dead to the world…but she KNEW she didn’t want to be hit. Flicking one dagger around, she aimed for where she hoped the zipper to his coat would be with a swift upward slash. Chances were it was one place that would have the least amount of armor, and if she could just slice the coat to open it…that would allow her better access to strikes inside. Again that hand with the needle brushed past her upper arm, and her second dagger struck against hidden metal.
With a swift twist of that wrist, she slid the dagger down along the metal, hoping to catch it between that piece and the next to bury in between them and gain entry that way. Finally that needle caught the muscle of her bicep with a sharp hiss from her and she gave up the pretenses of getting away. Dropping one dagger, she caught one of his knees in the side in order to gain a grip on his coat and drag him closer. As her vision started to blur, she snarled and with what strength she had left her muscles coiled, drawing in on the force, and shoved forward to try and bowl him over and do some damage to him with the upturned….something (it had to be a table of some sort, it was too big to be anything else, but she couldn’t quite tell from the blurred shape of it)….behind him.
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Vex
A Self-styled computer geek that moonlights as a G.I. Joe.
1,014 posts
2 likes
Proud bearer of the "Polish Stalker Badge".
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last online May 21, 2018 17:30:54 GMT -5
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Jun 3, 2010 21:54:27 GMT -5
Post by Vex on Jun 3, 2010 21:54:27 GMT -5
As expected, that blaster failed to effect her in a decisive manner. As he reached her, she was turning. She'd apparently given up on the goggles, pulling them off now and giving him that flash of brilliant crimson that was her vision. With the muted, bloody hue radiating from the smoke, it gave her a succubian danger to her shadowed features. She was intent on killing or disabling him so that she could escape, but that didn't mean he couldn't admire the image as much as he did the professional. He knew she still had to be affected by that blindness from before, but it didn't stop her from bringing up a defense and countering with attacks on her own.
The accuracy of her attempts, especially given her state, had him reacting only slightly less than he would if he was dealing with a normally trained opponent. She was quick, making him twist and blade his body away from her strikes and bring those arms in close to ward off. With both blades now, he had more to keep track of...it only took a luck blow with one, after all. She very nearly received it too when she twisted that blade around and brought it up. Reflexes alone had him pulling back, drawing in his abs as that blade whisked by them and scraped along the leather next to his zipper, parting it down almost completely.
The flurry of strikes and counter strikes continued before she managed another blade up against his ribs. He felt it hit the plate and then slide as she tried to worm it into a weak point. He countered by dropping his stance so her blade twisted slightly and wound up back against the plate before he sidestepped away and managing, finally, to slam that injector into a soft point on her bicep and inject the tranquilizer.
He did not leave that volley of blows unscathed, however. Her blade had found that seam between plates and dug in, skittering a line across his rib. It was shallow, but he could feel the blood making his shirt beneath stick. The adrenalin and endorphins from the combat muted most of the pain, but he was smart enough to keep track of such things and know how combat effective he was. He didn't fight stupid, after all. Ever.
Now he just had to keep her from getting in anything lucky before that tranq took her out. He pushed the attack so it would help speed it through her bloodstream and then it happened. She managed to catch his knee. She pulled him closer and he reacted instinctively, bringing his arms up, slipping both into underhooks beneath her armpits so he had control and the upper hand when this invariably went to the ground. And it did.
He was surprised by the power with which she thrust him back. She must have put all she had into it too because he could feel her starting to lose it then. A glance back as they dropped saw the round table that they were going for. Unable to stop the fall, he pushed back with his one remaining leg to hop slightly, just enough to land on it squarely and not do anything that might cause a broken back.
He then did what would most likely seem strange indeed, given the ferocity with which he attacked her. His arms cradled her to him, one up behind her head to keep her face close to his chest and keep it from bouncing. He was protecting her from the impact as much as possible. Part of it was due to the fact that he was to keep her alive. The second is due to the respect he'd garnered for her. He didn't want to hurt her. As they impacted the table and it buckled underneath the force, he managed to throw out pheremones to calm and to soothe...to make her feel and know that she wasn't under threat of harm from him. At least, not any more.
And then the pain hit and he groaned as his body absorbed all the shock for the both of them and the table buckled and slammed down. Hissing between his teeth, he tried to draw in shallow breaths thanks to her knocking the air from him as he landed.
Not his most pleasant job to date...
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Jun 4, 2010 15:01:58 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jun 4, 2010 15:01:58 GMT -5
Finally… FINALLY…something had gone right! Unfortunately, it had happened after everything else had gone wrong. She had gotten hold of him and that last ditch effort had gotten him stumbling backward enough to fall, but the effects of that tranquilizer had her in their strong grip. Her own slackened as her limbs became heavy and the world began to haze over in an almost dizzying way (which wasn’t being helped by the fall). That other dagger fell from her hand even as she struggled against the drug to try and keep some control over her own body, but she (of all people) knew it was a futile attempt. Those bloody red eyes slowly shuttered themselves, even as some part of her mind was horrified at the potential consequences of this situation. For once in a very long time, Rahja was afraid. The thought of her own death had never really bothered her, even now her fear wasn’t mainly for herself but for whomever this man might go after next…or why he’d wanted her in the first place. Darkness began encroaching upon her mind and sight then, solidifying those fears and making her internally curse with what thought processes she had left to her. Her fears, however, swiftly began ebbing away as the secure feel of his arms around her and his pheromones took over. In such a state, the woman was defenseless against either and the new feeling of reassurance was the final push over the edge for her. Those red eyes fluttered closed and her mind enveloped in blackness just as they hit the floor in a jarring crash of table and body. Sender, on the other hand, was horrified by what he was hearing over her open comm. Following in the immediate aftermath of the fear for her safety was something that didn’t come often for him…anger. Those discharge systems were readied as he watched the opening of the (now empty) nightclub intently…from directly above it. The short range x-ray sights built into him allowed him to watch, unseen, the inside of the club now that he was on top of it once again and not across the street. Sometimes it was very good being a recon droid. It didn’t hurt that his dark grey and black coloring had him looking more like a shadow or a raven than a droid, or even a seagull like his brother, Ayer. Better yet was the detection scrambler he was equipped with…no matter who was inside, they would have the most difficult time knowing he was there, watching, until he wanted them to know. That wouldn’t help Rah, however, if she was dead. Wizard’s gizzards, he hoped she wasn’t dead… He didn’t believe she was…he was hearing two sets of breathing from over her com…that was a good sign. Right? Right. There was still a chance to get her out of this mess, right? Right. The question was…how? As one part of his processors mulled over the situation, another part was busy formulating two messages to be transmitted. Recipient 1 05HHQ58795EC00104GFEL “General: HHRecDrdAER04 “Sender” Alert: HH02 “Reaver” possible capture. Will pursue. May require assistance.”Watching as the two moved below him, the droid waited to send the second message until he received a reply from the Hound HQ. After what felt like an eternity of waiting (but then, to a droid 30.379 seconds can seem like a long time indeed), the confirmation that HQ had received the notice flashed on his screen. Another eternity, another 35 seconds, and another notice flashed across his visor as he eyed the movement below once again and moved into a position to better follow his partner and her captor. Recipient 2 00AER03EC00104PFCMUH100101103AYER “RecDrdAER03 “Ayer”: HHRecDrdAER04 “Sender” Notice: HH-HQ may request assistance. Rahja captured. Uncertain outcome yet…will keep you posted.”The ticker-tape notice to Ayer was about as good as he could get right now. Unfortunately, they weren’t built with long range communications in mind, and things got a little more risky when using electronic messages…even between familiars. There was always a chance someone could intercept, but going through THIS transmission channel, the chances were decreased by the safety measures the military had put around it. You couldn’t risk intel being intercepted, after all, and this was something the Wizard used to communicate with the Familiar’s partners as well. HE wouldn’t risk it being intercepted either, and had added a few extra codes to this specific signal to make it that much more secure. Now all Sender had to do was watch, wait, and follow…and Rah’s homing signal would help with that.
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Vex
A Self-styled computer geek that moonlights as a G.I. Joe.
1,014 posts
2 likes
Proud bearer of the "Polish Stalker Badge".
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last online May 21, 2018 17:30:54 GMT -5
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Jun 5, 2010 0:03:03 GMT -5
Post by Vex on Jun 5, 2010 0:03:03 GMT -5
Rizzen took a few minutes until his diaphram stopped spasming and he could breath almost normally before finally reaching up with a hand to key his comm system again. His voice was strained and hoarse a bit, but that was of little matter. "Wash...commandeer us a speeder. The package has been secured."
"You don't sound so good, Cap'n."
"Well, she's light enough...except when she's driving you down onto a table. Just a little banged up...nothing expected. Get the speeder to the front door and be quick about it. I don't know how long we have until backup arrives."
"On it!"
Wash scrabbled quickly towards the parking lot, moving into an almost undulating trot as he tried to move that vaguely mink-like form as fast as possible. The parking lot was chaos with all the people leaving and milling about. He was, however, able to find a speeder that would suffice, with gull-wing doors. Stretching himself up, he could just reach the locking mechanism, going to work on it and disabling it within seconds. Then it was a matter of hitting the door release and pulling on the bottom until the door opened up enough that the hydraulic openers took over. Once he was inside, he couldn't reach the door to close it...but oh well.
Little clawed paws pulled at the facing of the control panel, getting it off so he could access the system. Inserting a control interface, he began to hack the vehicle's rudimentary security. It was hardly a challenge given the level of sophistication he was designed for. After a few seconds, he found himself given full access to the systems. Pulling up the protocols and processes he wanted, he powered up the speeder, keying the door to close as he pulled out. He couldn't really see over the steering wheel, so he used the speeder's collision detection viewers to navigate around the people and the vehicles moving about. He finally managed to navigate it so the passenger side door was parallel with the front entrance, far enough away so the door can open.
Meanwhile, Rizzen carefully shifted Rahja to the side on the broken table, shifting to sit up. He groaned again at that...he was going to be sore later. Unzipping his jacket, he peeled it away from his side, seeing the patch of blood from her slice. "Darling...you play too rough. Keep it up and I might start to like it." Grimacing at the wound, he'd ignore it for now, reaching to his belt and pulling out a small datapad. It had not, thankfully, been damaged during the impact. Unlocking the screen, he tapped a few sequences into it before running it over her body.
It was checking for EMF fields and the RF energy coming from comm systems and the like. It was able to quickly register the open communications link that she still had going, drowning out most anything else. Finding the comms system, he'd disable it, but not destroy it. It might be of use to him later. Thankfully for her, the homing beacon was intermittent and weak enough that the scanner missed it.
He'd then check her over for any damage that might have occured during the tumble. There seemed to be little. She'd gotten knocked about a bit durring their scuffle, but she'd live. Once he was satisfied that she had not been harmed undully, he'd go to secure her wrists and ankles. Force cuffs were pulled from the belt at the small of his back on his belt. He'd been lucky that they hadn't hit harder...they might have done some damage to his spine. He'd then carefully lift her up and cradle her form as he began to walk toward the exit. "Coming out now, Wash."
Wash blinked the running lights in response before keying that passenger side door to open. It rose up, obscuring most view from overhead while he carried her out of the club and into the night just as the door finished its climb. He'd hook the seat so it moved forward, draping her along the back and securing her in before he'd go to slip in himself and closes the door.
Looking to Wash, he'd arch his brow expectantly. Wash looked up to him...not sure what to do for a moment until it dawned on him.
"Oooohhh...sorry, boss." He hopped down onto the floorboard of the speeder and Rizzen got behind the driver's seat to begin pulling away.
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
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Jun 5, 2010 4:37:21 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jun 5, 2010 4:37:21 GMT -5
No doubt that if Rahja had been able to hear the man’s sentiments she would have been laughing. As it was, she was far from being able to react to anything he said or did. Not the words to his familiar, not to being shifted to the side, not to his words to her, not to his switching off the comlink on her belt…not even when he bound her up and lifted her. Until that point the deep hood of the cloak she wore had shielded her face from light and sight, but with the extra movement it slipped back, revealing her gently angular features and raven hair. That was more odd than one might realize…not simply because she was a chiss, but because her features were so…relaxed. Those features were never relaxed…rarely softened…barely ever THIS, and certainly not when others could see her. Shame, really, that he wouldn’t be able to see it for what it was…the calm before the storm he’d receive the next time she awoke.
Turning red photoreceptors to the street, Sender caught the movement of that speeder as it pulled up to the front of the club and slowed to a stop. Scanning the thing for life signs, he was startled to find none…not a thing…not even a droid signature! His scanners were picking up a strange sort of distortion but…he couldn’t pin down what it might be. The little recon droid didn’t have time to ponder over it either as two vitals came up on his scanners beneath him. As the speeder took off once more, he would be hot on its tail, that tracker hidden in Rahja’s Csilla pendant working to keep him on their path when he was unable to keep visual contact. It wasn’t long before they were coming to a halt before a transport and he settled down atop it just as they were getting out, and hunkering down in the darkness as best as he could.
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Vex
A Self-styled computer geek that moonlights as a G.I. Joe.
1,014 posts
2 likes
Proud bearer of the "Polish Stalker Badge".
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last online May 21, 2018 17:30:54 GMT -5
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Jun 5, 2010 22:41:48 GMT -5
Post by Vex on Jun 5, 2010 22:41:48 GMT -5
The drive wasn't terribly long, though he made sure to incorporate enough turns into it that he'd be able to tell if someone was just randomly behind them or if they were really being followed. Satisfied that there were no vehicles that were tailing him, they'd find their way to his ship, it's black hull a darker void in the night. He'd brought it in low, under radar scans. He didn't want the starport authority causing a fuss if he came blazing in with trouble on his heels. Even without that, people tended to ask questions when you arrived back to your ship with a trussed up woman over your shoulder. Far better to avoid the scrutiny all together.
Pulling up so the passenger door faced the ramp, he'd park it and then get out, keying the other door to open as he did so. "Wash, key up the pre-flight checks and get them started while I get our guest situated comfortably for the trip."
"You got it, Cap'n." Wash hopped out from the passengers seat and scampered his way to the hatch. Using his short range comms to patch the ship, he entered the passcode to key the door open and allow him inside. Rizzen, meanwhile, would move that recently vacated seat forward and release her car restraints, lifting her carefully from the back seat. Pulling her out, he'd carefully carry her to the hatch and within, elbowing the hatch control as he went to start it cycling down to seal.
He took her to the room that had been specifically designed for her arrival. As he went down the hall with her and entered it, he heard the sounds of the ship coming to life as Wash began to power it up and get the computers going through their diagnostics and everything else that was required before taking off. All of the paneling in this room had been made of reinforced durasteel with rivets inset and then sealed over. The lighting was behind plasteel and inlaid so it could not be accessed. Other than a plain, functional refresher with no moving components other than a push button, there was only the bed. It was built into the wall, also of durasteel, and padded with a gel-filled mattress. It was fairly comfortable for a prison bed, but it was designed for security. When punctured, the gel turned vibrant orange on contact with air...making it very apparent at a glance that something had been tampered with.
The door had no interior hinges or other methods of access from that direction, save for a box at lower chest level. It had two doors, one flush on the outside, and one on the inside portion facing the rest of the cell. This was for giving the prisoner food and beverages. Only one of those two doors could be opened at one time. Her side rolled down at an angle to give nothing with which to purchase. When locked, the maglock system activated on all four sides of the door and if there was a loss of power, they defaulted in the locked position and could not be disengaged without renewing power. All in all, a simple but effective system.
Knowing that he'd be bringing her here, he'd brought in some extra supplies. There was a box, which he'd begin to fill as he systematically began to remove her gear, piece by piece, and place it within. He let his eyes take in those femininely angular features as she lay there in such peace. Shaking his head, he'd smirked slightly. "You are a deadly beauty, little one...in many ways." He limited looking at the rest of her form as he stripped her, wanting to give her some dignity, despite her state and the circumstances. He could see where she'd been bleeding from the hypo wound. It hadn't been straight on and had scored along her arm before embedding itself. There were also some darker purplish areas...places that she'd taken good solid hits...two on her ribs. Pressing his fingertips around them, he could feel they were swelling. With her skin color, he didn't know if she had any broken bones or the like. Fingertips pressed and he found the areas tender.
Once he'd completely removed every bit of clothing and gear and had done a thorough check of her for anything, he'd set the box near the door and then move on to the second case...medical supplies. No stranger to battlefield medicine, he'd then go on to cleaning the wound on her arm and bandaging up her ribs, with kolto packets for both. Once he'd bandaged up the arm and ribs properly, he'd set that by the door too.
He'd stacked a set of simple clothing. There were thin, light pants, slippers, and a shirt for her to be able to retain some modesty. As he'd undressed her before, he'd take care to dress her now. He was careful about her wounds as he slipped her into the clothing. Since she was laying down, he did not put on the slippers.
Last was bedding...a simple sheet and a pillow. She might be able to use them for something...but he wasn't going to be that uncivilized to her. He'd make sure she was centered on the bed, then tuck the pillow beneath her head. The sheet then went over her to keep her from catching some chill.
Once he'd completed all of those tasks, he'd look once again at the false peace of her face. Sighing a bit, he'd shake his head and then move, retrieving everything she wouldn't need and removing it from the room as he pulled the door closed. He punched in the keypad sequence, then pulled off a glove to give it his fingerprint for the secondary locking procedure. Once she was secured in, he'd go across the hall and into his own chambers. Stowing the box of her stuff there, he'd close and seal his door and then move down to the bridge to see how Wash was doing.
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
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Jun 6, 2010 3:45:20 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jun 6, 2010 3:45:20 GMT -5
Sender barely twitched as he watched the little thing scamper from the passenger door to the ramp and settle on its hind legs, looking up at the keypad to the ship’s ramp. That’s when it dawned on him: A familiar! It HAD to be. No other droid, that he knew of, could scramble his systems like that…it was the same thing his own programming did! Oh…oh this was just wrong! Wrong on so very many levels! The hiss of the ramp lowering brought him back to the world around him, and his gaze widened away from just that little droid below him to the full area. The falleen was moving again, pulling Rahja from the back seat of the speeder and into the ship. Another slight hiss and he watched as the ramp began to close. Strong talons carried him along the face of the ship and only engaged his thrusters when he could no longer rely on his grip. The less amount of time he risked being heard, the better for Rahja.
Swooping in, he caught sight of the man’s retreating form as he slipped into the room. Sender, however, didn’t follow. Banking to the side, those propulsion systems cut silently as he dropped behind a corner of what seemed like a small galley. Now…to find a place to patch into the ship’s systems and keep them from taking off…or at least give them problems with getting away unseen. Hopping further down the corridor, he came to one of the ship’s droid override panels. The problem? It was considerably higher up than he could easily reach. With a ‘mental’ sigh, those thrusters burned to life once more and he swiftly pried the panel open, opening his chassis and pulling out the required cable before plugging it in. With the panel open, he settled on it and cut the power to his propulsion again as he swiftly patched through their coms system and began attempting to broadcast a widely accepted distress signal with…a few tweaks. There would be no doubt, now, that someone was being taken against their will on this ship.
He wasn’t alone, however, and already the com system was being wrestled from his control by someone far better than himself. “That blasted…THE WIZARD WILL HEAR OF THIS, SO HELP ME! Turning against another Familiar partner! It’s against everything we’re supposed to stand for!” His thoughts practically vocalized themselves in his frustration, and only by a swift rerouting of his thoughts back into his processor was he able to contain himself. His processors were scrambling to pull codes and a layout of the ship (or anything that might be useful) from the computer as his adversary worked to wrestle the rest of the com system from him, throwing in blocks and walls, rerouting commands back to the main terminal…and then the com was blocked from him. Out of time, he pulled his interface cord and retracted it back into his chassis as those repulsors flared again and he shut the panel. Jetting off, he ended up in the engine room, stowing himself behind the engine, where his odd lack of signature would, hopefully, be masked at least a bit. Once settled in, he filtered through what little information he’d gotten from the ship. Not much…a layout…a name (who knew if it was an alias or not)…a docking code for Muunilinst…Muunilinst?! Sith space?! Pan’s Teeth…this was bad.
Rahja, on the other hand, was (thankfully) unaware of just what was happening. Strip searches were never pleasant, and she tended to avoid them (or situations that might lead to one) like a plague. The reasons for this were fairly obvious…being a rather solitary creature (by choice as well as habit), the sniper woman wasn’t exactly one to be fond of allowing someone to search her naked person. Personal space was, well, personal…enter that bubble and you might be in trouble…pat her down and you risked losing a hand…strip her down to nothing and it was likely going to be instant death if she was given the choice. The other reason for her distaste for strip searches was…a bit less obvious to any who didn’t know her.
Several things she wore held meaning to her. The belt and boots were reminders of her time in the jedi…and while she could replace them…she’d not had to yet, and didn’t want to start any time soon. She could live through missing them, however. The armor and clothing were nothing spectacular, readily enough replaced. The cloak was, for all intents and purposes, one of a kind and one of her most useful pieces of equipment. While she was loathe to lose it, that too she could get over…with a bit of time. It was the little things that she was most attached to, however. The silver pendant that housed her tracking device was from Csilla, the only thing she carried on her person as a token of her time there. As he would remove the two rings she wore, the skin below would be a lighter blue, pale compared to the ‘tan’ the rest of her skin had and telling that those items were rarely removed. Held dear to her, when she would wake later the disappearance of those two items and the blood red glass pendant around her neck would have her raising a hell unlike any other.
Her awakening forty minutes later would be heralded by waves of fear and anger through the force that even he would feel it. Then again, he was MEANT to feel it…the anger that is…the fear was an unfortunate bleed through. As she seethed and paced across the floor of her cell (that’s what it was after all…no sense in sugar coating it), she could be heard cursing and shouting at him in cheunh, sounding (and looking) like a very angry demon, trapped there in that room. The cold metal against her bare feet wasn’t even noticed, and no heed had been given to the slippers either. Chill? There hadn’t been a chill that bothered her in years. After going to Csilla, the woman had found that just about any place else was decently warm, comparably. Despite the sudden rush of adrenaline upon waking up and discovering her state of being, Rah was still…prone to the effects of the tranquilizer, and as such, every once in a while that fluid rhythm of words would falter and halt as she was forced to take a breath and steady herself before she’d slowly start back up with her ranting at the injustice of her captivity. It didn’t seem to make a lick of difference to her, however, that her captor wouldn’t understand a word she was saying.
It was one of these pauses that a painful twinge in her side (no doubt caused by her own actions in combination with the injuries) had one hand stopping on her side. It was to her great surprise that she felt the bandages and kolto patches there beneath the thin cloth. That hand moved to her arm, feeling the bandages there as well and she blinked silently for a moment, stunned and confused into silence. That loud ranting quieted into a more neutral growling as she paced a few more times before sitting on the bed and folding her legs before her, back propped against the wall, and settled in to meditate.
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Vex
A Self-styled computer geek that moonlights as a G.I. Joe.
1,014 posts
2 likes
Proud bearer of the "Polish Stalker Badge".
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last online May 21, 2018 17:30:54 GMT -5
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Jun 6, 2010 13:44:07 GMT -5
Post by Vex on Jun 6, 2010 13:44:07 GMT -5
He'd stopped at the medical closet on the way to the cockpit, pulling out some disinfectant and bandaging for his own wounds. He slipped inside, closing the door, while Wash turned to him.
"Pre-flight is good, everything is green to go, boss, but we've got a problem."
Furrowing his brow, Rizzen looked to Wash. "What sort of problem."
"Someone's been trying to get into the communications system and send out a broadcast. I caught it quickly and have been rerouting and locking them out systematically...but they aren't out yet. Trace on the link shows its in the ship. We have an intruder. If the coding algorithms are any indication, I believe we are dealing with whatever was trying to circumvent the building security during our render operation."
Rizzen looked a bit surprised at this....he'd closed the door himself. However, he hadn't watched it go down either, given that he'd had a handful of Chiss at the time. Apparently, someone had slipped on before the hatch closed. Sloppy of him. Very sloppy. "Shut them down and keep them out of the system. Reroute all other system protocols so access is granted at the pilot consoles only and monitor them to make sure they aren't trying to get cute with anything else. Firewall everything. Also, lock down all of the interior doors so we can isolate the intruder into one section. It isn't a big ship, but I'd rather him not have free reign."
Wash nodded and began programming everything to his specifications. Rizzen tossed the medical equipment down for now and slipped into the pilot's chair, buckling in. First order of business was to get them up and into the air. If they were flying, their uninvited guest would be less likely to try and tamper with the engines. Rizzen was fairly certain that whoever was on the ship wanted to keep Rahja alive. Turning them into a metal rock at 50,000 feet and climbing wasn't the best way to do that.
The repulsors fired up and allowed them to break contact with the ground before he ignited the sublights and pointed the nose up, angling them towards space at the proper exit angle. Meanwhile, Sender would be able to hear all the doors along the hall locking closed and sealing under Wash's instruction. "Run a sweep for any unauthorized life signs or droid power signatures that are anomalous with what we should expect. Let's see if we can't pin down our little friend."
Once they broke free of the atmosphere, he'd begin charting a course for Muunilist. "Keep getting everything prepped for the jump to Muunilist. I am going to make sure that our extra passenger doesn't try anything, just in case he got into the engine room. No doors open unless they have my personal passcode, understood?"
Wash looked up to him for a moment from apparent thought, rerouting some of his processes and subroutines to the listening while the rest worked on fulfilling the orders. "Got it, boss. All systems are slaved to our consoles. Doors are locked down, opened only via these consoles or your personal passcode. Scans showing nothing except for two life forms. Something's odd though..."
"What is it, Wash?"
"I don't know yet. I've been going over the coding and protocols our intruder used...comparing them to that which I saw in the building. It's definitely the same programmer...but, there's something familiar about it. I haven't pinned it down yet. I'm running it through my databases."
"Well, keep working on it. Any knowledge we have will prove useful." Unbuckling, he moved toward the door, keying in his passcode so it would slide open. Once he was through, he keyed it on the outside pad, sealing the door again behind him. Walking down the hall, he'd come to where her door was. He'd been feeling her angst and her fear...letting him know that she was awake and in none-too pleasant a mood. It had quieted down a few moments ago though...which made him wonder why. He thought he'd felt something akin to confusion before she'd quieted down, but it was hard to tell. He was better at reading people visually, catching those cues. Feeing someone else's emotions was...different.
No doubt she'd feel him coming closer in her state. Above the container door where she could receive food and such, there was a window of plasteel for him to look in. He'd ignore her for the moment, but it wouldn't take much for her to look up and see him as he paused at his own chambers and keyed in his code to allow him in.
Through that window, she'd be able to look inside to part of his room. His armor was on a stand, carefully kept clean, polished, and ready. He didn't wear it often, but he always made sure that it was ready. The majority of it was black, with the highlights done in a deep hunter green along the visor, stripes on the pauldrons, etc. The body suit to be worn beneath was of a dark, almost charcoal grey. The suit looked lighter and less bulky than most...reflecting his preference for agility and stealth.
Behind it were many different types of weapons, to include melee and blasters. He had rifles, but rarely used them. Everything was behind a secured plasteel barrier. Keying his passcode in again, he'd open the barrier and pull out a blaster pistol. Checking the charge on it, he'd nod his approval and then go to her box. Pulling out her communications system, he'd leave the room. Sealing it, he'd move to her door and press the intercom.
It crackled in her room before he'd speak. Lifting the door on his side, he'd slide in the communications system. Closing it, he'd speak. "It seems we picked up an unintended passenger, Ms. Rahja Kel. I would be very obliged if you might help me bring the situation to a nonviolent resolution."
"Uh...boss?" Wash came in over his communications system.
"Yes, Wash?"
"I, uh, finally figured it out."
"Okay...then tell me."
"I thought the coding looked familiar, but I was looking in the wrong place. I checked standard Republic, Sith, and Mando'ade protocols. It didn't match any of that."
"I thought you said you figured out what it was."
"I did, boss. I just wasn't looking in the right place. It, uh, hit me as I was coding up some more defenses for the systems. It...well, it's similar to the coding I use. Not to the same level, but some of the coding characteristics are definitely similar. When I checked my own system, it verified it. There are code markers there that match."
"You are saying that we are dealing with a Familiar?"
"Yeah, boss...pretty sure."
That was rather....unexpected. Frowning a bit, he'd look back inside her cell. He'd kept the intercom on, allowing her to hear his side of the conversation. "If you could, Ms. Kel, please contact your Familiar and convince them to surrender. I have no desire to do any harm to someone's Familiar partner. I have a high level of respect for them."
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
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Jun 6, 2010 15:45:16 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jun 6, 2010 15:45:16 GMT -5
((note on her cheunh speech: "Cheunh was a complex, dense tongue that used comparatively few core words and an involved syntax to express ideas; more complicated ideas were expressed by combining related words into a larger whole." < from the wookiee...remembered that so I decided to play with the way it's worded in English to try and come up with a similar effect for it. Almost a 'direct translation' feel I suppose. *shrug* it's a work in progress, may not use it at all later.))
Oh yes…she certainly felt his presence coming closer, and her own bristled angrily in reply as those bloody eyes opened to watch him through the window of her door. He was a very lucky man. If she had been fully trained that plastisteel wouldn’t have been much more than an annoyance to her, same with these durasteel sheets that the walls consisted of. Despite that, the visual contact gave her something else to do…her mind reaching out to batter angrily against his. Was she seeking entry? No, not yet, but it wasn’t likely he’d know that with the way she dug in at his barriers to cause as much pain and discomfort as she could. She was testing them, those barriers, and taking out her frustration on him as well. Despite her current focus, those eyes were able to take in some of his armor and the weapons behind it as background information to be processed later by her. For now, however, she was far more interested in practicing those abilities of hers.
Only when he spoke through the com to her room did she allow him a reprieve from her actions, her mind more focused on his words. She bristled and glared, debating a moment on just how to reply to that request, when another voice sounded over the system. It was smaller, more mechanical…a droid, perhaps? Her question was soon answered, causing her to hold her breath for a fraction of a second as she pulled her mind away from his swiftly and glared at him.
<<No desire to harm familiar partner…get word connections unmixed. My-person is ‘partner’, HIS-person is ‘familiar’…your-person already harmed me. My-person is not about to risk… Lacking-thought green-walking-pheromone-lizard. Forked tongue does not get far Eden Serpent, not when talking to blue skin devil of the ice world. How is my-person supposed to feel trust for captor with only shallow-thought potential-lies?>>
She’d growled back at him, in cheunh, exactly how she felt about the situation. Her concern had ratcheted up a few notches at hearing that Sender was most likely aboard, and his asking her to just give him up like that worried her. She’d only been back at Familiar HQ a short while ago! Was THIS what Pan had been working on during that time? What in the world was the Wizard thinking, giving a familiar to…to someone like THIS?! For a long moment she was silent, glaring at him through that window. All of her wanted to tell the man just where he could shove that blaster of his and not ask Sender to give himself up. He’d likely hate her for it if she did…besides…how could she trust him? It was his word alone that she’d be trusting, and so far all she’d gotten from him were some very bruised ribs and muscles, a nice little slice along the arm and stuffed in a cell, bound for who knew where. On the other hand…she didn’t want him damaged either. The very thought made her cringe and bite back her emotions. Standing, she all but flowed over to the door, her hands pressing against either side of it as she leaned there slightly and glared at him as she probed about him through the force for any hint of lying.
I don’t trust you.
She paused there, to let her growled tone and the full meaning of it sink in for him. She had no reason to trust him, and she didn’t. If anything she hated him right now…hated him with every fiber of her being for capturing her, stripping her of the few items that had meaning to her, and now…now he was trying to have her ask her familiar…her partner and likely the only one she considered a best friend…to give himself up to the same one he was trying to free her from.
I don’t trust you, and right now…I loathe you, and would rather see one of us dead before giving him up to you.
Rah had never been one to pull punches when she was angry.
I cannot, however, have him harmed.
That glare faltered and she lowered her head so he couldn’t see her face. With every word she hated him more, and hated herself for what she was about to do. Sender would never forgive her.
Bring me my com, and your familiar…I need to be able to see him before I do anything else. I may not trust you, but I might trust him. …You had better hope I do.
Not once did she raise her head again to look at him as she spoke, that low tone of voice somewhere between boiling anger and rueful defeat.
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Vex
A Self-styled computer geek that moonlights as a G.I. Joe.
1,014 posts
2 likes
Proud bearer of the "Polish Stalker Badge".
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last online May 21, 2018 17:30:54 GMT -5
Master
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Jun 6, 2010 17:16:51 GMT -5
Post by Vex on Jun 6, 2010 17:16:51 GMT -5
He felt the battering against his mind as she went after him that way. His eyes narrowed a bit in concentration as those shifting walls and ramparts of his mind hardened and bristled more. It was annoying and a strain, but manageable enough to ward away. He listened to her chewing him up severely in her native tongue. He may have been unable to understand the words, but the feeling and intent translated well enough without it. He gave her a gentle smile while he waited patiently. He had a feeling she'd respond to him eventually. When she stood and walked toward the door, hands pressing to either side while she leaned in and glared, he knew that time had come.
To her words, he inclined his head slightly. "I did not expect anything else, given the method of our first encounter. It is regrettable, but cannot be altered. You do not know me...only of our encounter. Your feelings on the matter are perfectly understandable. I, however, have no desire to see either of us dead and I mirror your sentiments about your Familiar's condition."
He'd point down to the box there that jutted out on her end. He pointedly ignored the falter she gave as she looked away. He didn't press the advantage, knowing that she felt as much concern for her comrade as he would hers if the situation was reversed. "You will find your communications system there. You simply need to open up the door on your end."
He killed the intercom between them, considering the other half of her demands. He preferred Wash to be in the cockpit. Wash was fully capable of remoting the systems to himself and dealing with them where ever, but he could react more quickly and decisively there. He didn't have a reason to provoke her to further angst, however, so he'd finally key his own comm. "Wash, remote all the systems to you so you can keep track of them, then join me in the hall by the detainee room."
"Uh...but, b-..."
"Wash, I'm trying to get her to work with me so that we can prevent damage to the ship or her compatriot. One of her stipulations is to see you. She does not trust me....but she says she may trust you."
"I...okay." Wash sounded surprised over the line, but moved to comply. He pulled out the remote unit that Rizzen had created for the ship, opening up his own hatch and plugging it in so that he could keep track of the ship systems that way. Hopping down from the copilot seat, he'd trot to the door, getting it to cycle as he went and then closing it down again as he moved down the hall.
Meanwhile, Rizzen keyed the intercom again. "He is on his way."
It was only a few moments before Wash showed up. Rizzen stooped out of direct view of her as he held out an arm so that Wash could run up it and onto his shoulder. Standing, Rizzen would appear again, the little otterish/minkish construct balanced on its back paws, hands scrubbing over in front of its chest pensively as those large black photoreceptors widened, looking at her. When Rizzen keyed the intercom again, Wash spoke."
"Uh....hi! My name's Wash! You wanted to talk to me?"
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
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Jun 6, 2010 19:21:54 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jun 6, 2010 19:21:54 GMT -5
Looking down as he motioned to the box, she slid the door open and pulled out her com as she leaned her weight more to the side with her hand still pressed against the cool metal of the wall. Sighing, she opened her eyes and looked down at it as it rested in her hand. “He’s on his way.” The words only barely registered as she nodded in reply, still keeping her head lowered as she gazed down at it. It wasn’t until that second voice came across the intercom that she looked up again, eying the familiar perched there on his partner’s shoulder. The sight of him was almost cute as he moved and watched her. With a sigh, she nodded again to his question.
Yes. I need to know that you won’t allow any harm to come to my partner. He is not to be kept here, but taken back to Familiar. I don’t…want him to be used as a second partner to yours. You understand why, I'm sure, and if it didn’t mean possibly harming him, or forcing him to fight you, I’d let him be…but I don’t want that either. So I'm trusting you, as a Familiar, to keep your cousin safe and get him back to PF for me as soon as possible…WITHOUT any side trips to labs for testing or scanning, or reprogramming. Your kind may be droids, but you’re about as alive as something without blood can be…you aren’t something to be reverse engineered. You understand me? I'm not going to contact him until I have your word.
And she didn’t.
Not a muscle was moved by her as she watched the little creature watching her, and only once it gave her his word did she turn on the com and depress the button on it.
Sender…I know you can hear me. I need you to respond.
A moment of silence as she waited, and then the mild crackling of static only moments before Sender was heard on the other side.
Rahja?! How…? Are you alright?
Quiet, bird. Listen to me very carefully…I know you won’t like what I'm about to ask you, but I need you to trust me, alright?
Rah…you need to know that they’re taking you to Muunilist!
The Sith…so she was a Sith prisoner, then. Those eyes closed and she shook her head slightly.
<<Keep your-person without speaking thoughts Sender>> I said to listen, so listen and do as I say.
Rah…?
Shut down your Respite programming…
…but Rahja, you realize…
Shut down your targeting systems…
What are you thinking, Rah?!
Stand down to Familiar “Wash”…model…?
She waited a moment for the model and number to be given to her before she continued.
FIDES 17…
Rahja, don’t do this…
…MC disengage sequence HH02-1357 Familiar personal safety code 15794 dash 04PF00S. I'm sorry Sender…
The silence then was about as dense as the atmosphere of Skako as she waited quietly for confirmation that the sequence had worked. Never before had she needed to use the safety code that would shut down Sender’s moral programming that allowed him to disobey her orders, and so, honestly, she didn’t know if it would even work. It seemed she waited forever before the com clicked back on at his end.
Familiar Safety Sequence confirmed…Ethic Code program disengaged. Orders received and understood, Miss Kel, I shall allow this “Wash” to take me into custody.
Those words and his scalding tone burned at her core. Her jaw clenched and unclenched several times before she managed to say anything in return.
<<Sender deepest apologies of the heart-soul, friend of deepest thought.>>
Whether he chose to understand her or not, she didn’t know…she had turned off the com and slid it back into the box she had received it from and moved away from the door immediately, going to sit down on the bed once more, her face a stoic mask as she settled in. They would just have to find him themselves...that was as good as they were getting from her.
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Vex
A Self-styled computer geek that moonlights as a G.I. Joe.
1,014 posts
2 likes
Proud bearer of the "Polish Stalker Badge".
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last online May 21, 2018 17:30:54 GMT -5
Master
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Jun 6, 2010 19:51:51 GMT -5
Post by Vex on Jun 6, 2010 19:51:51 GMT -5
Wash listened to her intently, little flaps on the side of his head raising a bit to allow those audio triangulating, filtering, and enhancement devices to hear her very clearly. For all intents and purposes, however, it looked like he was perking his little ears up to better pay attention to her. Those "eyes" widened and grew darker with surprise and horror at the implications. "Oh no! The Cap'n would never do that! He doesn't want to hurt your familiar and he'd never do anything like that!" His hands wrung even more as he looked up to Rizzen to see if he would hold up to such a promise if Wash made it.
"Do not worry, my friend, I would never do anything that might allow your integrity to be questioned. Her request seems the most logical course of action."
Wash wrapped himself around Rizzen's nape and nudged his jaw a bit with his head. "That's my Cap'n." Looking back to Rahja, the little head would bob fervently. "You have my word, ma'am. I won't let anything bad happen to my cousin!"
Both of them listened quietly while she contacted her familiar...the intercom picking up Sender's side slightly. Both of them looked to each other before it ended and Sender's reluctant and spiteful acquiescence was heard. Rizzen knelt down again, holding out his arm so Wash could scamper down. "Go and find him, Wash, bring him here."
"On it!" That little form undulated its way down the hall as the interior ship scans pinpointed the unfamiliar reading in the engine room.
Rizzen looked to to her, watching the play of muscles along her jaw before she settled herself into that mask. It was a good mask...but his people were built upon them. She'd been hurt by her friend's anger more than she would admit. Probably even to herself. Once her door was closed, he opened his and removed the comm system. Hitting the intercom with his hand again, he spoke.
"Is there anything I might be able to do to prove my own good will to you and the fact that I do not intend you any harm as long as you are in my care?"
Wash, meanwhile, remotely keyed the door to open into the Engine Room. He looked around, standing up on his hind legs to be able to peer higher. "Sender....?"
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