Corellia

[Kadaj]

As he was about to head back into the medical bay and continue helping patients, he was stopped by what looked like a Jedi.

 

"Why yes...I do...but how do you know th--"

 

He stopped mid-sentence.

 

"Who are you?"

[Skye Organa]

((Grrrr I hate that 'page cannot be displayed' ... this is the second post I've lost in as many days... damn internet!!))

 

"I am Jedi Master Skye Organa, a Jedi Healer. I sense that you are force sensitive. You have the ability to access the Force. That is what makes you a good medic. I can teach you how to utilise the Force, how to use it consciously during healing patients. If you like that is."

 

Skye paused a moment before going on,

 

"I need to get to the Gateway. There is an emergency there involving the Zombi Virus that was let loose on Coruscant a while back. If you would like me to teach you, you can come along with me."

[Kadaj]

Even though Vash had never really thought about becoming a Jedi, there was always that option in the back of his mind. An option he never really set forth to look into. He wanted to help patients in a better way; on a large scale. This would be his ticket into a better way of helping people.

 

"Alright...I am interested. I will go with you. However, Would it be wise for me to leave the hospital right now?"

[Skye Organa]

Skye gave him another smile, glancing around the hospital again.

 

"They seem to have things under control again now. Nothing that they won't need us for. I'll speak to your supervisor."

 

Giving him another thorough look she added,

 

"I know I offered to teach you how to use the Force to heal. Would you also like to learn the ways of the Jedi?"

[Kadaj]

Vash nodded, hoping that the hopsital would remain under control while he was gone. He was lucky, to be approached by a Jedi. He must have some unique talent. He wanted to learn to use the force to heal, but also to protect as well.

 

"Yes...I want to become a full-fledged Jedi.."

[Skye Organa]

Giving a nod of her head Skye turned to lead him to where his supervisor was. Having a short conversation with the supervisor, the Jedi Master Healer informed him of taking Vash on as her padawan learner. That completed, Skye turned back towards Vash.

 

"If you have anything you need to bring with you, go and get it now. My ship is named Serenity and is on the landing pad outside. I'll be waiting there."

 

With that, she left him to gather up whatever belongings he had that he wanted to bring with him. She would like to see what medical equipment he already had so she would have an idea of what he had already based his learning on so far. That would give her an idea of where to begin his healer training. For his Jedi training she would start at the beginning.

[Kadaj]

Vash nodded, with a smile on his face. He ran back inside and grabbed an assorted array of things. There were some clothes, some medical equipment, some tools, and of course his weapon that he kept hidden.

 

When his bag was full, he carried it out the door and to the landing pad. He saw the Jedi standing in front of her ship as he approached it.

 

"I'm ready.."

[Skye Organa]

"Welcome to Serenity, Vash. Come in, I'll show you where your room is."

 

Skye led him through her ship, giving him a quick tour of some of it before reaching his bunkroom. She showed him the medical ward and consult room, along with the living area of the ship.

 

"While you are on board, this will be your room. Make yourself comfortable and I'll get us going."

 

She left him and headed to the cockpit, going through the take off procedures, preflight etc etc before requesting clearance to take off. Once off the ground she pointed the ship skywards and left the planet. On the first hyperspace jump, Skye headed back to see how Vash was settling in.

 

"Tell me, what do you know of the Force?"

 

((post in space))

[Alexander]

Alexander arrived in the system, wasting no time in picking up his ship, then quickly departing once again. Once in hyperspace he began reviewing his ship in all of its glory.

[BLACK1]

The Trushot made a standard landing at one of several docking bays in the city. He had to operate on very little information, but he'd found people on less information. It was like a puzzle to him, one that had rather large payouts. A cigarette found it's way to his mouth and was quickly lit, the thick grey smoke filling the air around him. He left his speeder aboard the ship, favoring a walk for once, his long, black trench coat blowing in the wind.

 

The bar was like any other, filled with filth from all corners of the galaxy. This bar was smaller than most, probably a strictly local place. Most likely not used to spacers. All eyes shifted uneasily toward him as he entered. He remained calm behind his dark sunglasses and black, crackling cigarette. Changing his normal protocols, he took a seat at the bar. He didn't like sitting at the bar. Too exposed. A corellian whiskey arrived, which he sipped sparingly. He could hear the murmurs from the regulars. Trouble was brewing, it was only a matter of weather or not they had the testicular fortitude to follow their up on whispers that really mattered.

 

He could hear footsteps coming up behind him. They wouldn't just attack him out of no where, they'd say something stupid first. They always said something stupid. Sure enough, a large hand landed roughly on his shoulder.

 

"No smoking." The man was maybe six and a half feet tall, flanked by two smaller men, all three with stupid grins on their face. Black glanced around the room rather unconcerned.

 

"He's smoking." He nodded to a trandosian in the corner, making no hostile movements. Some of the patrons began shifting unsteadily in their seats, anticipating the assault.

 

"He's allowed. Put it out." The voice was more forceful, but lacked the conviction needed to tell Black the guy was trouble. As it were, the guy was just another drunk trying to cause trouble. A lone rodian in the corner moved his hand slowly to his blaster.

 

"Frag off meatbag, I'm busy drinking." The large hand pulled Black around on the spinning stool, making them look face to face. Somewhere, he had pulled out a vibroblade. The poor bastard didn't even know what hit him. Black extended both Heaven and Hell simultaneously, the first bullet hitting the man in his lower right ribs, the bullet umbrellaing somewhere where his heart would be. The second shot went between the man and one of his cohorts, hitting the lone rodian in the corner between the eyes, spraying the contents of his brain pan on the wall next to him.

 

One gun stayed steady on one of the cohorts while the second whipped around to the bartender. "HOLD IT!" The bartender froze, stopping inches from retrieving his disruptor under the bar.

 

"You two." Black pointed at the two infront of him, one eyeing the gun, the other staring at the lifeless mass of what was once his friend on the floor. "Take a seat....over there." He pointed to the booth where the rodian had been setting, in clear view. His gun followed them as they kept their hands in the air, setting across from the bloody mass of the once sentient. Black now turned his attention to the bartender.

 

"All I wanted was a drink and a small conversation." The bartender swallowed dryly and gave a silent nod. "Now...where would you happen to get this exquisite whiskey from?"

 

"The...there's a distillery, maybe two miles form here. Biggest on the planet."

 

"Excellent." The gun in his left hand returned to it's place up his sleeve before they could see where it went. "It really is good whiskey."

 

He stood up, walking casually to the front door, gun still pointed to the general direction of the bartender. When he was at the door, his remaining revolver returned to it's cache. "You all have a good evening now." He exited with a fluid motion, before they could find their own weapons. He quickened his pace toward the distillery. He didn't want to have to spend more time on the planet than was necessary.

 

The droid at the desk at the distillery seemed to be much more helpful. Black was asked to wait for a representative to answer his questions while he waited in the lobby. Black took a seat and stretched. He was glad he decided to take this little detour.

[Bounty]

*The representative of the Corellian Whiskey Co., Correlia's largest brewery and one through which most of the planet's famous whiskeys go through, arrives. He was a short, stout man with a florid face and a large auburn moustache, which he has a habit of stroking constantly, as if afraid it might have fallen off since the last time he checked.

 

He does this now, his plump fingers gently stroking the impressively bushy strip of coarse hair.*

 

'Can I help you, Mr...?'

[BLACK1]

"Ordo. But I prefer Black, if you will." Black extended his hand for a firm handshake, keeping the situation formal. "I had a couple of questions I wanted to ask, if you don't mind."

 

Black pulled out a datapad, pretending to read it for a few seconds, looking over the rim of his sunglasses.

 

"What are the main planets you export your whiskey, and have you had any spikes in orders recently? If so, where?"

 

He stayed formal, but to the point, showing little eagerness in hopes to get quick answers.

[Bounty]

*The representative shakes the proffered hand and favours Black with a patronising smile he reserves for those ignorant of the intricacies of the alcohol industry.*

 

'Mr Ordo, we export Corellian Whiskey all over the known galaxy. It would be very difficult indeed to find any sort of pattern that sticks out. I can have a look at our rarer, higher-quality or vintage brands for you... they are sold much less frequently, and rarely in bulk.'

 

*The representative pulls his datapad out between surprisingly dextrous fingers and taps in a command.*

 

'Searching for vintage brands and brands at the high end of the market... ah, there we are. A cantina on Coruscant named the 'Last Call' upped their orders of Whyren's reserve from one bottle every four months to two bottles a month. It's expensive stuff, costs our customers nigh on a thousand credits a bottle, so Force knows how much they charge per shot. Two bottles a month? It's highly unlikely that they would sell that much in such a short space of time. My guess is they have a regular who's got the money and the taste for Whyren's. If I were you, I'd ask there.'

 

*The florid little man pockets his datapad and looks at Black, his eyes glistening with curiosity.*

 

'Mind if I ask why you're so interested in this, Mr Ordo?'

[BLACK1]

"Oh, taking a simple survey." Black offered up a smile. They both knew it was a lie, but he clearly showed he wasn't going to say the real reason. "Well, thank you very much for your time. I do await your next flavor."

 

And with that, Black turned and strode out, offering nothing else to the man. He lit up another cigarette and started back toward his ship. Coruscant would be a good place to get lost. It's a rather large cluster bomb of people, easy to get lost. And the Last Call was a good bar to drink at. The owner's firm stance on non-violence ensured a level of safety that wouldn't be offered anywhere else.

 

Black reached his ship without trouble, much to his dismay and surprise. The familiar coordinants were punched in and he returned from where he started.

[BLACK1]

((Necessary Double Post))

 

The Trushot landed in the hanger of CorSec headquarters. He left the ship half carrying the lump of a man Sikuus.

 

"Hello, my name is Ki Ordo, and I have a delivery for the CEO."

 

He gave a genuine, large smile to the clerk at the front desk.

[Bounty]

*The desk sergeant looks over at the recumbent form of Sikuus, her eyebrows raised in mild surprise.*

 

'Bring him through. We'll have to perform a DNA check to verify his identity, then you can get paid.'

[BLACK1]

Black dropped Sikuus' limp body on the floor. He decided he had carried him long enough.

 

"Surely."

 

He took Sikuus by the wrist to drag him into the designated room.

 

"I hope this doesn't take too long."

[Bounty]

*A needle is slid into Sikuus' unresisting forearm, a retinal scan is carried out and, just for the hell of it and because he's an arsehole, an anal probe is performed.

 

A few minutes later, his identity is confirmed.

 

The doctor turns to Black and nods his head.*

 

'Leave your account details with the desk sergeant. Your money will be credited later today.'

[BLACK1]

"That'll do just fine."

 

Black left his information with the clerk and left. His business done.

 

Another bounty well done.

 

The Trushot left Corellia, heading back to Coruscant for the time being.

[Bounty]

*A month later, having been tried and sentenced in absentia, Garrett Sikuus is taken from his holding cell at Coronet Penitentiary and strapped to a gurney, ready to have his sentence by lethal injection carried out. His crime: the kidnap and murder of a teenage girl.

 

Asked if he has any last words, Sikuus simply replies: 'I regret nothin'.'

 

The plunger is depressed. Garrett's muscles tense violently, his body shudders, and his heart stops. The prison doctor pronounces him dead at 17:48 Corellian Standard Time.*

[Darth Furion]

Julio's shuttle landed at the CEC Corellian office. The place Kheldar had said his ship would be waiting for him at. After verification of his identity, Julio was shown to his ship. The Chameleon was exactly what he had envisioned. Much better than the one he blew up. After he programed personal codes, he left the system to start shopping. Ason had left him quite the list.

[Hou-Jo Poleb]

Hou-Jo's Jedi starfighter landed at his parents' house. The cockpit opened and he stood up, staying inside. He activated his new lightsaber and jammed it into the control panel. He ripped it out, disabling the ship. They would be hard pressed to track him this far, but it would give him time to get away from here so they couldn't follow him to his true destination. He jumped out and lifted the ship into the air with the Force. He lifted it with an ease he never knew possible. He smiled. He liked this new power. He hurled it down the hill nearby. He watched it crash and explode as the fuel tanks ruptured, igniting off the open circuits of the dashboard.

 

He turned away from it, turning from his past. He walked to the future. His destiny.

 

"I am meant for greatness. Far more then what the Jedi would allow me. I have become more powerful than any Jedi."

 

He walked over to a fountain. Kind of rare for this planet, yes. He looked at his reflection.

 

"They took from everything from you. Xen-Que is dead," he said as a tear began to form. "Rajah left. You did everything for the Order and they still forsake you. They didn't appreciate you. They took everything and gave you NOTHING in return!"

 

He straightened himself. He began to laugh. "Ha ha ha ha." He couldn't lose his smile. That sadistic smile. It was fading. It was gone from his face. "They'll pay. Everyone. Will pay. Yes. It's time the galaxy feels the pains I felt. The lie, ha ha ha, they will know. It was all a lie," he said lowering to a whisper. "I see through the lies of the Jedi. It's my life. I'll live it for myself. No one else. And I will be powerful. Yes. No one will ever betray me again. Even if I have to stab them with the knife first."

 

He continued to walk, he was going to a transgalactic bus station. He opened the hilt of Ara's lightsaber and removed all but the bare necessities that required it to function, to ensure there was no tracking device inside.

 

"Nonstop to Coruscant!" cried the loader of the transport. Hou-Jo sneaked onto the ship, using his powers of the Force to conceal himself from anyone collecting tickets or money. He sat in a dark corner and put his hood over his face. Smiling. Waiting to arrive at Coruscant.

[Shadrach]

Shadrach left Mechis III like a mynock out of Chaos. During the voyage to Corellia, he made the necessary repairs to his droid and then went into meditation in the converted hold. When the Fenris I reached the upper atmosphere, Shadrach signaled the bridge.

 

"R8? Listen, just hold in Corellia's upper atmo until you get hailed. When you get it, patch it through to my console in the meditation room."

 

The Fenris I drifted silently in parking orbit, waiting for the signal.

[Bad karma]

No comm link is established with Shadrach's ship, instead a set of coordinates are sent to his ships computers. They are the roof top of one of the buildings in the largest city on the planet's surface. Viktor would be waiting outside of his ship for the man to arrive.

[Shadrach]

Shadrach glanced up at the chirping console. It was not his master. It was a simple text message. R8 chimed in on the comm.

 

"Thank you, R8. Yes, go ahead. I'll meet you in the bridge."

 

Shadrach arrived at the bridge as the city below rushed dizzyingly up at them. He loved the adrenal burst it always gave him... like falling off a skyscraper. The ship touched down beside another on top of a roof. A small but familiar figure beside it. Shadrach belted on his weapons and supplies and made for the loading ramp. He was off it and standing before his master before it touched the roof. Not knowing the proper etiquette, he assumed the Echani attention stance and awaited orders.

[Bad karma]

Viktor gave the figure a curt nod and motioned him over to the ledge. In the distance the sun was setting, but the light from the city kept everything illuminated. Viktor planted his foot on the ledge and placed his right arm on his quads, leaning into it and motioning for Shadrach to follow where his finger was directing the apprentice's gaze. There was a young human female with bubblegum pink hair in the latest style, obviously getting ready for a night out.

 

”œHer father is rich, you see, but she hates listening to him. Her father has had her followed for the past few years, keeping an eye on her as she goes out dancing in the various clubs in this city and hanging out with her friends. She is arguably one of the most popular and well known figures in this city.”

[Shadrach]

Shadrach noted the building carefully. He studied her build and her hair. Then he rushed back to the ship and grabbed a rebreather. With a nod to Viktor and another cursory glance over the side, he dropped off the ledge onto a lower balcony, and began his descent into the streets.

 

On the ground level, he made his way to the building. Catty-corner to the target's substantial home were a wide variety of upscale fashion shops, which he perused as he waited for her to show. He purchased a few knickknacks from a fetish shop, including some black liquid latex to spruce up his red rebreather. With the modifications made, and a few belts and chains to strap over his black bodyglove, Shadrach was ready for clubbing. He grabbed a bite to eat (his wardrobe additions innocently concealed in a merchant's bag) and began the stake out.

 

Just as he was beginning to worry about alternate exits, a stylish land speeder pulled up out front. The target and her retinue emerged from the front entrance and climbed into their ride. Shadrach got another glance at her face before he tossed aside the last few bites of his sandwich and hailed a cab.

 

”œI'm looking to go clubbing. Where's the best place in town?”

[Bad karma]

The woman entered into the building with three people in tow; two males and one a female, all human and all dressed in a similar manner as the girl. Though, they were all decidedly less flashy in their mannerisms then she was. She exuded an air of confidence and refined charisma that knew no peer in the club and as a result, people seemed to naturally be pulled towards her as if she had her own field of gravity.

 

The dance floor was alive with movement and she rarely left it, only doing so when she was pulled away or to get a drink. From the elevated V.I.P. room a single man in a black pin strip suit with a circular hat watched over the floor. His left eye had an eerie red glow to it, but it was doubtful anyone would notice with the way he kept his head lowered.

[Shadrach]

There was a tense moment as the doorman looked him over. Then he shrugged and motioned him inside, turning his attention to the next in line. Shadrach nodded, smiling wolfishly under his rebreather, which now bore some tribal feathers and a black feral paint job.

 

Shadrach stepped inside and stood a few seconds, taking in the scene. A few seconds inside was all it took. The target stepped down from the bar and was immediately encircled by dancers. They were minor space drek caught in her orbit and she was loving every minute of it. Cute. But the gas giant had her favorite moons, two men and a woman. These dancers consistantly moved with her, glancing and laughing at each other. They would probably be the first to notice something amiss.

 

Shadrach joined the dance floor, emulating the steps performed by the other dancers. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to it, so he was soon moved by the throbbing bass alone. He allowed himself to drift closer and farther from the target. He didn't want to pointedly wade toward her right away. He had time. The longer he waits, the drunker she gets. The more tired the friends would be. He allowed his presence to blend with the crowd, adjusting his posturing to ensure his anonymity; the trade trick of every pickpocket from Nar Shadda to Coruscant.

 

He watched disinterestedly, allowing himself to be aware of her fatigue and attentiveness (and that of her friends) without staring at them or allowing himself to care. It was about convincing oneself (and therefore everybody else) that one wasn't there. Without a care in the galaxy and certainly no stake in one's surroundings.

 

The night would wear on, the drinks would stack up, and before she left for home or the next club, he would make his move.

 

This song is actually kind of fun.

[Bad karma]

The girl danced the night away, minute by minute, as she flitted around the dance floor with a charming smile and graceful movements. Of the three she came in with, one stayed closer to her then the others and seemed to be flirting with her all night. Both were completely oblivious to the figure carefully stalking the prominent girl.

 

Soon they made their way to the back of the club together, slipping out the back door and into the alleyway to have some time to themselves.