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Post by Chloe Dawn Listyr on Aug 30, 2016 21:38:57 GMT -8
She Tried to stand, but her leg gave way. In the throw, something must have broken.Aghhhhhhhh! No.. I can't walk
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Ty Loms
The Organization
Director of STARS
Posts: 103 
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Post by Ty Loms on Aug 30, 2016 22:39:02 GMT -8
"Alright. Just give me a second." Ty lays her down and then walks to one of the thugs he had shot and searches them for a comlink. He sets it to a CorSec frequency. There have been shots fired in an alley in Treasure Ship, three wounded with shots to the abdomen. Once he had begun to hear a response he dropped the comlink and smashed it with his heel then walked back to the woman and picked her up. "We need to lay low for a bit and get you patched up." He started walking the back alleys toward his apartment, looking down at her from time to time to make sure that she is still alright.
He wondered what he had gotten himself into this time. This woman had been playing around in his head, there was some Hutt that was out for her blood and now his, and he had blown an entire year of laying low, putting himself in the spotlight in a big way.
He made sure to keep his pace so as not to draw more unwanted attention, even when he heard sirens. He also avoided any people he saw, the last thing he needed was to have someone think he had beaten this woman. "We're almost there." He attempted to reassure her. After a couple more blocks they arrived at his apartment. The lift was thankfully unoccupied and he took it up to the third floor. His apartment was the last one at the end of the hall.Quickly he walked to his apartment from the lift making sure that no one saw them. Once inside he headed for the bedroom and gently laid her down. "I'll be right back." He then turned and walked back to the door, locked it, and went to the refresher for medical supplies.
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Post by Chloe Dawn Listyr on Aug 31, 2016 0:09:21 GMT -8
The entire time walking no one looked at them. Chloe was pushing feeling for boredom and monotony from them. No one looked because they thougt there was no reason to look. They were all but invisible but better nothing worth noticing. Once he laid her down, exhausted and injured, she passed out
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Post by Tony Gallucci on Aug 31, 2016 13:35:03 GMT -8
For as long as I can remember I've wanted to be a wise guy, but more than that I wanted to be the boss, just like my old man. The Gallucci FamilyMy old man ran this city, nothing happened without his say so and everyone knew it. Everybody knew him and there wasn't a soul that challenged him, at least not that lived to tell about it. And being the boss's kid was nice, I did what I wanted when I wanted, I knew everybody and everybody knew me. I used to work down at the dock with Jimmy the Fish, following him around with a clipboard and keeping track of inventory. Mama Gallucci didn't like me working the docks, in fact she didn't want me to be in the business at all but I lived and breathed the stuff. It was exciting, I always had my own money when kids my age were still asking their parents, I always got respect when I went places and I was just a kid. I was untouchable.
And I wasn't handed anything either, my old man believed in hard work, I worked my way from the ground up and knew that I was in line to take over the business when he kicked the bucket. I was the oldest son after all. My older sister didn't seem to mind much, we were thick as thieves, there wasn't anything I did that I didn't want her to be a part of. So naturally when my old man passed and I was in charge she became my right hand, my consigliere. I've been the boss for ten years now and I've done my best to live up to my old man's legacy.Coronet City, a sprawling city on the coast full of life and teeming with opportunity. No city in the galaxy is more prestigious than this and no city more diverse. On the surface it's a safe place to live and even raise a family, but walk down any back alley and you can find anything. CorSec does its best to keep it the streets safe but the gangs run the alleys.
On the outskirts of town lies the Gallucci compound. The compound consisted of a residential street that ended in a cul-de-sac, providing only one means of entry, surrounded by high hedges covering a durasteel wall, and lined with eight large two-story houses all owned by Tony Gallucci.
Three of the houses were rented at low price to several neighbors who had relatives in another part of Coronet, and lived under an agreement to vacate the premises, no question asked, if the need arose. This was done as a camouflage measure during peacetime, and as a way to provide a garrison for soldiers in a crisis. Three of the other houses were used by Tony Galluci, Vittoria Gallucci, and Mama Gallucci. The last two houses were owned by good friends of the Don. The largest house at the end of the cul-de-sac belonged to Tony and serves as his base of operations.
The compound was equipped with several floodlights, making it impossible to move unseen at night. After the death of his father, Tony Gallucci further reinforced the compound by building an eleven-foot stone wall around the perimeter, installing an durasteel gate at the entrance and buying the property around the Mall and populating them with Gallucci soldiers and their families. Making him and his family possibly the most protected people on Corellia.In his second floor office Tony waited for his next appointment, looking out the window observing some of the neighborhood children playing on the new playground equipment he had just had installed. The sight brought a slight smile to his face. His office was positioned just so he could watch over the interior of the compound from distant entrance right to his front door.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Sept 3, 2016 18:25:58 GMT -8
Gallucci Compound
Masika Akintola believes in Corellia. Corellia gave him and his parents a home, a chance to start their lives anew after they left Socorro. It was on Corellia that Masika met his wife, Giacinta, who bore him a beautiful daughter, his beloved Nereza. Masika served in the Corellian Defense Force proudly, feeling it was a way to repay some of the debt he felt he owed the world that gave him so much.
Now, however, it is not to the government of Corellia that Masika feels he can turn to, for it is that government he feels abandoned and betrayed by. Though he has fought in Corellia's wars, payed years of taxes into its system, and loved it as fervently as anyone has ever loved an adopted homeworld, Corellia has told Masika that all that he has given does not matter now that his daughter's illness has exhausted his savings. The medical bills, which have already cost the Akintola family their home, have reached an absurd height that Masika cannot hope to reach, and Corellia's system has told him in no uncertain terms that there is nothing it is willing to do for his Nereza.
It was Giacinta, who grew up in Coronet, who told Masika that there was a man who could help them, if Masika was only willing to promise that man that he would grant him a favor in return, should he ever need a favor. The man that Giacinta spoke of was Tony Gallucci, and Masika sits now outside of his office, waiting to be given the chance to plead his case to the one being his wife believes capable of helping them. Masika does not know what he, now an old retired soldier that runs a mortuary he only barely owns and may soon have to sell or refinance to cover some of the medical bills drowning him and his family, could possibly do to return a favor such as that he has come to ask, but he knows that he will promise anything, do anything, if it means his Nereza has a chance to receive the medical care that has gone beyond his means to continue to provide her. Masika waits outside Tony Gallucci's office, and he hopes that his wife's belief proves true.
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Ty Loms
The Organization
Director of STARS
Posts: 103
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Post by Ty Loms on Sept 7, 2016 14:35:50 GMT -8
The entire time walking no one looked at them. Chloe was pushing feeling for boredom and monotony from them. No one looked because they thougt there was no reason to look. They were all but invisible but better nothing worth noticing. Once he laid her down, exhausted and injured, she passed out |
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Post by Chloe Dawn Listyr on Sept 7, 2016 21:23:11 GMT -8
After a few hours, she stirred. The broken ribs sent a flash of pain through her and the swelling in her knee gave her good news, it wasn't broken! Just tears to her PCL and ACL, without bacta she was going to be in bad shape for a while. You don't have any liquor, do you? If I can't feel better, I can at least forget that I hurt. You can relax. Kingdoola isn't the type to go track someone down. She waits for them to slip up and come to her. I am Chloe by the way.
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Post by Tony Gallucci on Sept 22, 2016 11:22:23 GMT -8
Gallucci Compound
Masika Akintola believes in Corellia. Corellia gave him and his parents a home, a chance to start their lives anew after they left Socorro. It was on Corellia that Masika met his wife, Giacinta, who bore him a beautiful daughter, his beloved Nereza. Masika served in the Corellian Defense Force proudly, feeling it was a way to repay some of the debt he felt he owed the world that gave him so much.
Now, however, it is not to the government of Corellia that Masika feels he can turn to, for it is that government he feels abandoned and betrayed by. Though he has fought in Corellia's wars, payed years of taxes into its system, and loved it as fervently as anyone has ever loved an adopted homeworld, Corellia has told Masika that all that he has given does not matter now that his daughter's illness has exhausted his savings. The medical bills, which have already cost the Akintola family their home, have reached an absurd height that Masika cannot hope to reach, and Corellia's system has told him in no uncertain terms that there is nothing it is willing to do for his Nereza.
It was Giacinta, who grew up in Coronet, who told Masika that there was a man who could help them, if Masika was only willing to promise that man that he would grant him a favor in return, should he ever need a favor. The man that Giacinta spoke of was Tony Gallucci, and Masika sits now outside of his office, waiting to be given the chance to plead his case to the one being his wife believes capable of helping them. Masika does not know what he, now an old retired soldier that runs a mortuary he only barely owns and may soon have to sell or refinance to cover some of the medical bills drowning him and his family, could possibly do to return a favor such as that he has come to ask, but he knows that he will promise anything, do anything, if it means his Nereza has a chance to receive the medical care that has gone beyond his means to continue to provide her. Masika waits outside Tony Gallucci's office, and he hopes that his wife's belief proves true. "Send him in." He says as he sits at his desk.She nods then turns to face the waiting room and steps toward Mr. Akintola "Mr. Gallucci will see you now. She says politely with a smile before taking her seat once again. |
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Oct 6, 2016 19:24:27 GMT -8
Masika nods when the human female informs him that Mr. Gallucci can see him now, remaining seated for a moment with his head bowed while he takes a deep breath and readies himself for the coming encounter. Releasing the breath he had held, feeling as ready as he supposes it is possible for him to feel, Masika stands and, buttoning his dark grey blazer, strides into the office door the human had opened.
Masika clasps his hands behind his back, his military bearing a product of his long years of service just like his closely cropped grey hair, and says in a baritone still powerful and resonant despite his advanced age, "Don Gallucci. Recalling his spouse's advice, Masika keeps his tone formal and respectful as he does his best to remember all the things she suggested he include in what he says. I am here to offer you my . . . shaking his head, a faint, bemused smile briefly visible before his previous somber expression reasserts itself, Masika apologizes, Forgive me. My wife, who grew up here on Corellia, gave me a speech to give you, but now that I am here, it feels . . . false to repeat her like they are mine. Lifting his hands, palms upward, Masika goes on, Out of respect for you, Don Gallucci, I feel I have to tell you upfront that I am here to ask for your help. I am here to offer you my friendship, and promise to do you any service you ask of me in return for that help."
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246 
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Nov 6, 2016 15:14:44 GMT -8
"Alright, well. Connors, pack light, we have no idea what this guy is like and I'd rather not freak him out. You're scary enough when you're not bristling with weapons." The smuggler tossed her companion a tiny smirk and reached down, stuffing her feet back in her boots and buckling up. "I'll contact Barrish while we gear up. Wrench, you comin' or you wanna man the ship while we negotiate?"
Wrench replied without hesitation that it would be unwise, bordering on foolhardy to split up, especially considering his mission, and the relative ease with which Wade_Connors_01 could assist him, if he required protection beyond his own meager abilities. He would accompany them to Coronet City, though the little droid mused that it might be better if he went in disguise, and wheeled off to procure something that would say 'incognito' to passerby. He returned a few minutes later with a tool-belt worn bandolier-style, festooned with all manner of useful bits: tools, electronic components, trinkets and trade-worthy items.
"Incognito." "I don't bristle." He plucked his DC15s off the peg near the ramp and slung the gun belt around his hips, cinching it tight then tying it down on his thigh. "I lurk." He returned her smirk as he pulled the blaster free of it's home, checked the power pack for charge, then slipped it back into place. "Besides, I mostly carry this thing for show. Makes them focus on the less dangerous threat because it's the one they're used to." With the weapon check over, Wade pulled his jacket on and was about to head down the ramp when Wrench pulled up clad in a bandoleer. The chuckle that escaped him was very nearly a snort, and he directed his next question back at Malora. "What happened to not spooking the locals?" She gave Wrench's disguise the up 'nd down, grunting her approval. "Nah, I like it. Smart." She paused, considering. "In fact…" Struck by idea, the smuggler hustled into her cabin, emerging with an armful of what looked like moth-eaten tarp. "Found it!" She stuck her head through a hole in the middle and let the coarse fabric swallow her figure in its shabby embrace. The poncho had seen much wear 'nd tear, probably rarely ever seen soap, but it would blend her easily into the background of scum and villainy. A pair of goggles and one of Fel's old belts, and the costume was complete. Well, almost. Malora stuffed a few fingers in one of the ramp joints, patting her freckled face with the inky grease and then swept her long hair into a careless bun. She cleared her throat. "Meet Ella and Bolts, handy mechanics, good ol' team doin' honest work," she announced, hooking her thumbs on her belt and striking a lazy pose next to Wrench. It was a simple cover Fel had come up with long ago, one they'd tweaked to fit the situation and used successfully many times when they needed to 'mingle' in public without watching their backs. Corellia was home to many who knew too much about the crew of the 'Unfair Advantage', and while they'd left their famous ship back on Felucia, if Na'an was right about this Formidonis, it was best not to take chances. The last thing they needed was another delay. From the corner of her eye, Mal watched Wrench for any sign of recognition for the old act. "I doubt we need to worry, but better safe than sorry, right? Besides, Karana Malora owes plenty of Corellia a favor or two and I don't feel like being sidetracked today." She ushered her two crewmates down the ramp, locked the ship up, and strapped the goggles around her eyes. Wade did that sneaky thing where he scanned the hangar for threats without actually scanning the hangar for threats. Must be nice to be a ninja. "Hey, Ella, don't I get a disguise?" He fixed her sooty face with an entertained expression. "You don't need one, Mr. Beefcake." She patted one of his well-defined biceps and smiled, setting her sights on the hangar exit and moving at a brisk pace. Wrench's bandolier clunked and clattered against his metal exoskeleton as he rolled over the web of thick cables running from ship to ship. "You're my bodyguard. You keep all the riffraff at bay and make sure no one messes with Wrench, and hopefully we'll be outta here before any real trouble shows up." Ella, Bolts, and Mr. Beefcake left the hangar in a bundle of tool belts, buzzing with friendly banter. -- Wade | Galdaart Fel -- |
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Post by The old man on Feb 22, 2017 15:30:08 GMT -8
Waking up... Waking up was always a pain, especially when combined with physical pains emanating from various pains from sides of one's body.
The old man rolled over and groaned. His spine felt as if it had been treated by a masseuse that normally earned her living in the fighting pits and his jaw felt like it were mauled by a Rancor. To make it worse, he rolled into something wet, smelling very much like vomit. If he weren't as incapacitated as he was, his fine nose would tell him it was his own vomit, spiced with some blood.
He vomited again.
He raised his head to try and gather his surroundings.
He failed and his head slumped back into the sludge.
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Caz Australis
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 6
Affiliation: Mandalorian
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Caz Australis on Feb 22, 2017 15:39:11 GMT -8
Naimh looked down at her feet. The wet muddy ground was slowing her down as she was afraid of slipping. She definitely had chosen the wrong shoes to walk across the city with. She tripped on the broken cobblestone and dropped her datapad and bag. The contents of the bag spilled towards the gutter. She bent to pick up her things, quietly cursing under her breath when she heard a moan. She squinted against the receeding daylight and saw him, covered in mud and debris. She dropped her things and stepped carefully down into the gutter kneeling next to him. She touched his neck and found his pulse.
Hey, are you ok. Can you hear me? My name is Dr. Rourke. I am here to help you. I am calling for help. Don't move, we will take care of you.
She grabbed her datapad and called for help. Backup would be there soon and they would transport him to the hospital as fast as they could.
Hey don't worry. I'm going to help you. Can you hear me? What's your name?
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Post by The old man on Feb 22, 2017 16:23:11 GMT -8
The old man was almost (comfortably) nodding off in the puddle of his own blood and vomit when a hand softly clasped his neck. If he weren't in the state he was in, his hand would have shot up and twisted it.
A voice in his head whispered;
Yes... Surely... Some years ago.
He turned his head over with some difficulty to observe the stranger. A fine young woman, could well have been his daughter. Or daughters, he couldn't be sure with the double vision. Triplets, even? And she... They were asking questions. His tongue gave up waiting on the brain to speak and took things into its own hands;
Wasyer... Wassa... Faine, faine, all faine. Shest dipped over, tassit. Mari... M'namez Mari.
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Caz Australis
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 6
Affiliation: Mandalorian
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Caz Australis on Feb 23, 2017 5:08:13 GMT -8
Naimh stayed close to him. The smell of vomit and garbage pooling around them assaulted her nose. She took a deep breath through her mouth and fished for her handkerchief in her pocket.
Mari, that's your name? Alright Mari, I'm just going to wipe away some of this off your face so I can make a better assessment of what's going on. That ok, luv?
She didn't really wait for him to answer. He was mumbling jibberish to her anyway. Naimh gently started at his forehead and wiped away the grime slowly. This guy had a story for sure. It was written in the scars and wrinkles that graced the curves of his cheek bones. His eyes fluttered open and closed, he tried to focus on her, but couldn't seem to. She made mental notes of possible reasons, also noticing the startling emptyness of his eyes.
There you go, luv. That's better. I can see your face a bit more now. Just be still. Transport will be here momentarily. We will get you all fixed up and find out what got you into this unfortunate situation. Just stay with me Mari.... stay with me.
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Post by The old man on Feb 23, 2017 15:16:16 GMT -8
The man now known only as 'Mari' stared into 'their' faces. It felt like a choir of Celestials had come down to Corellia to carry him through... whatever? They kept opening their mouths, voices blurred as they tried to speak over each other. Probably something nice. He smiled through his vomit-soaked teeth... And then it strung him. He reflexively reached towards the back of his head and ran his palm across it, then brought it... or several... up for inspection. They looked suspiciously red. He licked them with all of his tongues.
Iron and sewage.
His eyes rolled over for him and his last thought before he sank into sweet darkness was ''oh sod this''. His last words, however;
''It me onna ed, bugga...''
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Caz Australis
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 6
Affiliation: Mandalorian
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Caz Australis on Feb 23, 2017 15:27:37 GMT -8
Naimh heard the rescue crew behind her and stood up. The muck and mud dripped from the hem of her dress down her legs. She shook what she could from her hands and gingerly stepped back giving the head EMT the run down on what she could deduce was the issue. She waited until they loaded him into transport and jumped in the back with him.
Moments later they were at the hospital. Naimh handed him off to the attending doctor and went to change into clean scrubs. She returned shortly after as they were running tests on him. He was alive, but barely. She stood over him, taking his pulse and searching his face.
You are safe now, Mari.... but what's your story. I wish you could tell me what is going on here. Can you hear me?
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Post by The old man on Mar 1, 2017 17:11:44 GMT -8
... a starfighter flying over Coruscant streets, guns blazing...
... child letting go of her mother's arm...
... screams...
... something else?
... I'll stand against you, no matter the odds...
He woke up in sweat, gasping for air. His pulse was so accelerated it made the machine whine. It took a second to realize somebody was talking to him. His glassy eyes fixed on the woman beside his bed. She seemed familiar... from somewhere...
He tried to collect his thoughts. Sore mistake.
I... hear your... going on here?
There came some more.
''Where... am I?''
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Caz Australis
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 6
Affiliation: Mandalorian
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Caz Australis on Mar 8, 2017 9:49:23 GMT -8
Naimh let her breath out that she didn't realized she had been holding. He was semi coherant and that was a good sign. His chances of survival were exponetially better than an hour ago.
You are at the hospital. I'm Dr. Rourke. Naimh. I found you in a ditch not far from here. Do you remember anything that happened to you earlier today? Maybe how you ended up there? Who you may have been with? Did someone possibly hurt you?
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Han Yolo
Member
Ain't nothin' gonna break-a my stride Nobody gonna slow me down, oh no I got to keep on movin'
Posts: 7
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Han Yolo on Apr 10, 2017 15:06:10 GMT -8
Early morning, on the outskirts of the city, a battered old YT-2000 rested behind a dilapidated old building that two droids were busily transforming into a nice modern tavern. Aboard the ship...
Awoken from a deep sleep, Katrin sat upright in bed. It had been that dream again. It always started the same, a flashback to her earliest memories.
It was dark. No more than twelve years old, Katrin felt even younger. Young and scared. She lay huddled in the corner of a cargo bay. A good dozen younglings of various races and ages were scattered about in the blackness. An occasional sob or whimper could be heard but little else. Ripped from their homes and families, these younglings knew they were destined to become slaves but that's all they knew. Sleep had nearly overtaken Katrin when the lights suddenly switched on. Sitting up and rubbing their eyes, the terrified youngsters watched the big man with horns walk into the middle of the cargo bay. He was flanked by two smaller men holding whips.
"Wakey wakey," the big man said in a singsong voice. "We'll be landing in a few minutes and I want all of my merchandise to look wide awake and energetic for the customers. Now everyone get up, dust yourselves off and make yourselves presentable. Now! Move!" The big man screamed the last two words and many of the children cringed. Several of the youngest began to cry. Katrin did neither. As anger filled her, she unconsciously flexed her claws. The big man noticed. "Ahhh. The big bad kitten wants to play." A whip snaked out of nowhere to slice across the Cathar’s back. Katrin took a deep breath, closed her eyes and retracted her claws.
Can't win. Wait. Submit. Fight later.
"That's right kitten. You just remember who your master is." Turning to address the young slaves, the big man raised his voice. "Remember, the lot of you, that you are MY property. Some of you will soon be the property of someone else. You. Are. Property. You live to serve and the better you serve, the longer you live. Now get ready. The auction begins right after we land." And with that, he simply walked away.
At this point, the dream often changed. Sometimes Katrin would see the crowds gathering to gawk and to bid. Sometimes she would see the blonde man staring at the big man with pure hate in his eyes. Most of the time, the dream would skip up to the point of rescue.
Somehow, the blond man had gotten on board the ship and was fighting the smaller whip holding men. Fighting only with a big stick, the blonde man had knocked out one of his opponents and disarmed the other. Katrin saw the big man come into the room behind the combatants and raise a blaster. Now. The thought came unbidden. The claws came out and the rage flowed free.
The next thing Katrin knew, the big man was lying on his back, a huge gash bleeding on his cheek. She was sitting on the big man's chest, her hand raised to strike but she couldn't. The blonde man was holding her wrist, restraining her. "We don't kill if we can help it. We've won. It's time to move." He spoke calmly and quietly yet the command in his voice could not be mistaken.
Here she woke, knowing that the big Devorian with the now scarred face was still looking for "his property". Knowing that Han would keep them both safe; keep them both moving.
…
An hour later, Katrin joined Han for breakfast.
“Hey, where’s Cookie?” She noticed the droid’s absence as she fixed herself a mug of stimcaf.
“Oh I sent him and Seven to work on The Tavern.”
Katrin’s mug froze on its way to her mouth. “The tavern? You weren’t joking about opening a tavern?”
“Nope, we open tonight.”
The mug was lowered with glacial slowness. “Isn’t that going to make moving around a bit more… difficult?”
“We’re not moving anymore. It’s about time we stopped running and built a real life for ourselves.”
The mug rested on the table but Katrin’s voice became glacial. “Not moving? As in staying in one place?”
Han finally noticed Katrin’s tone. “Well yeah. We talked about this before. About settling down, making friends, you know, making a life.”
“Do you remember what happened last time you decided to ‘settle down’?”
“Uhhh… we learned a lot from that experience. At least with a tavern here, we’ll have all sorts of low life to let know if He shows up and there’s a Jedi academy down the street so we can get help if we need it.” Katrin was moving slowly in Han’s directions, fists clenched tight. “And uhh… we can always…”
…
That evening, The Tavern opened its doors. Cookie tended bar, Katrin waited tables, and a blackeyed Han greeted guests.
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Kel'Al Raganella
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
Posts: 530
Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Academy
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Kel'Al Raganella on Apr 13, 2017 20:16:11 GMT -8
That evening, The Tavern opened its doors. Cookie tended bar, Katrin waited tables, and a blackeyed Han greeted guests. [The Tavern, on the outskirts of Coronet.] Going undercover with CorSec was a little out of the ordinary for a Jedi Master, but the Jedi of Corellia weren't exactly conventional Jedi, and Kel'Al had been working closely with CorSec for many years. Their relationship was a carefully balanced partnership: CorSec handled civilian policing and public safety, but if a force user committed a crime, or a relic of the dark side appeared, or anything else that crossed into the domain of the Jedi Order, Kel'Al or another Corellian Jedi was just a com away. CorSec knew their limits, and even if they did stock the occasional anti-Force User weapon as an insurance policy, they preferred to let the experts intervene.In this case, Kel'Al hadn't been told much, except that a contact had information about the Fist of Kast, the long-dormant Sith rebellion on Corellia, and would only give it up in person. So here he was, a thirty-something Jedi with one of the most famous faces in the entire star system, sitting down alone in a brand new tavern on it's grand opening night. He was dressed in a drab grey unmarked uniform, with a green cap pulled down low over his ears, but his true disguise consisted mostly of trusting the sheer impossibility of his presence among the crowd. No one would believe he was actually the famous Jedi. Of course, he could have used a mind trick or two, and kept the entire tavern safely away from his secret, but that would have been an unnecessary invasion of privacy and a waste of his gift in the Force. He would only fall back on Force-based concealment if it became necessary.Scowling in feigned impatience, Kel'Al ran a hand across his forehead, and squinted toward the door. His senses were on high alert, but there was no sign of his contact yet. |
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