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Post by Whill Shaman Zauriel on May 9, 2013 6:27:12 GMT -8
*The Matai district, located to the north of Bisikh, was the downtown district of Khagarbhan. It was a vast, filled with beings who belonged to many varying cultures. The district had many different types of buildings filled with facilities, apartments, and shops of all different kinds. One could enter Matai, and find almost anything that they needed to ensure the smooth running of their daily lives. Things such as food, precious metals, clothing, etc could all be found within the area, including cantinas where people could go get themselves a drink or information. Within the very heart of Matai, also lay the the Sehthi Jamdaadh Towers, the former headquarters of the Empire of Edjedha which now acts partly a very exclusive residential tower, and government headquarters for whoever is the main governor of Contruum.*
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Garwig Gil Ga'Mesh
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Affiliation: The New Order of the Jensaarai
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Post by Garwig Gil Ga'Mesh on Jul 6, 2013 19:09:15 GMT -8
As the Seraph-class speeder exited the main ground gate for speeders at the Sehthi Jamaadah towers, Garwig drove the vehicle through the various city streets. Obeying the traffic laws and being cautious as he drove. Thinking a little on the missions he organized for the Jensaarai as he spent the majority of his concentration on the road. It had been so long since the battle on Contruum, and he meant to try to get these missions going earlier. But now that things seemed to be getting itself back together again, Garwig knew he had to as the order's Saarai-kaar to get his order back to work again. And driving to the Nunnehi forest which lay a little aways from the Matai district, Garwig looked for a dirt road that few only knew of that would lead him to the Jensaarai temple.
.....
Meanwhile....
.....
After finally arriving at the Matai district of Khagarbhan, the E-2T medical shuttle which carried an injured man with a farmer who found him flew through the skylanes about the city. It's sirens turned on so airspeeders in the lanes would get out of it's way as it neared the Sehthi Jamdaadh towers. Upon arrival at the towers, it would land at one of the skydocks of the second tower where it's hospital floors were located at.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2013 20:30:28 GMT -8
*Jade sat atop of a few crates that sat down a ways in an alley. She watched as people passed by. She always looked, made sure that she always chose the right target. Knowing she didn't have a god view and hoped off the crate and made her way into the streets. She mixed in with the crowd, taking in all the different types of people. She was sure she could easily find what she needed.
And of course she did. Turning, she noticed a man walking towards her. He was dressed as a wealthy man would. Perfect. She took a breath and let her most innocent look fall upon her as she walked towards the man. She kept her eyes ahead, letting his figure stick to the edges of her visions as she bumped his shoulder. As they began to pull apart, her hand quickly went to the pouch on his belt, slipping in and out faster than most could see.*
=Jade=
"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't watching where I was going. Are you ok?
*The man looked at her with an irritated look, but it quickly faded as he looked at her. Just as it always did, her innocent eyes, coupled with her seemingly younger looking face did the trick in getting people to brush her off. He just gave a smile and a wave before pressing on into the crowd. Jade couldn't help but smile as she fiddled with his credit chip. Now she had some credits, now it was time to get some food and some new clothes.
She found a fairly decent restaurant and enjoyed a good meal before hitting up the clothing stores. She had enough credits left to buy three pairs of clothes. Two sleeveless blouses; a white and green, two black skirts, black leather pants, knee high black boots, a sleeveless gray vest with a high neck, and two sleeveless overshirts; one transparent blue-purple and another solid white. Even when she had finished, she had just a bit left to check into a hotel.
Doing so, she gained a hot shower and warm bed. She'd have to head to a different district next time so not to be found by the man. She didn't desire to be seen too much in one spot.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 30, 2013 12:18:00 GMT -8
*The morning came quickly and Jade was quick to wake. Showering, she made use of some pillow cases to make a bag, putting all her new clothes in before heading to the lobby. The wonderful smell of food greeted her and she helped herself to a quick breakfast. Sure she paid for the room, so there should be any worry. But she knew in all situations, the key was to get in and get out before making oneself too well seen. Grabbing one final piece of toast, she made her way out into the street.
Already were the streets busy with people. Putting on her most innocent face, she progressed into the crowd to begin her work. Approaching a small group of people waiting for transportation to take them to another district, she got as close as she could. No one seemed to pay her any attention. This was good. To them, she was just another person waiting there. She went to work, letting her quick hands slip in and out of a couple people close to her. As people came close to her, she acted like she was bumped, a fair excuse to move to the next group. The transport soon arrived and the people bored, leaving Jade there to only smirk. Turning from the waiting area, she disappeared into an alley. Three successful grabs. Sure she had grabbed a few others, but with turning up no credits, she return the items to their owners. All she cared about was credits. Only occasionally when something seemed of fair value did she keep it.
Admiring her take for the morning, she pushed on, heading to another district, and of course, her next swipes. She knew eventually, she would need to head to the temple. But part of her was afraid of it. It was a world she didn't know. Out here, she had learned how to survive. Stealing didn't bother her in the least. Perhaps, maybe, she should just live out here. Find a small apartment and live off the rich. But then she remembered her father's last words to her. He believed in her and felt she could do so much good with her power. Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts of remaining out on the streets out of her mind as she walked on.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2013 15:01:38 GMT -8
*Jade her way casually into the main part of the city. It was weird coming out here so late. Normally she was out, checking for the next person to swipe from. But today was for shopping only. She strolled down the walkways, looking into the shops, seeing all they had to offer. Today she could be just a tourist. At a few occasional shops she stopped and looked around, mostly clothing and jewelry stores. Despite it all, she was still a woman and enjoyed such things.
She continued on throughout the day, stopping in a restaurant for a nice meal. So this is what it was like to live a higher life. It was something she could get used to, or so she thought. To be this way everyday would be nice, but then she'd turn into the same rich snobs that wandered the streets. She couldn't let herself be that way. Despite the comforts of luxury, it wasn't a life for her.
The day was beginning to come to a close, the sun low in the sky. After all the walking, she finally came to the store she was looking for. In the window were different types of blasters. Yes, it was a weapons shop. She needed a blaster at least, just in case. She made her way into the store as the chime alerted the workers to her entrance.*
=Clerk=
"Welcome. How may...."
*He got a look at Jade and shook his head.*
"I'm sorry kid, this isn't a toy store. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
*Jade's eyes focused on the man, her smile fading quickly. Sure, she looked young and used it to her advantage, but she hated being referred to as one. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, calming herself. She reached into her bag and removed an I.D. Before she left home, she had one made so that should any circumstance arise such as this, she could Identify herself and her age. She handed the I.D. to the man, trying to keep hr irritated mind focused.*
=Jade=
"I'm not a child. I'm twenty-five."
*The man took the I.D. and looked it over for a hard minute. His gaze switched between her and the I.D. many times before he handed it back to her with an apologetic smile.*
=Clerk=
"So sorry, miss. Is there anything I can help you with?"
*Jade shook her head as she took the I.D. back.*
=Jade=
"Not right now. I'm just looking."
*The man nodded before returning to his other duties. Jade slowly made her way through the store, examining all the weapons available. There were a few swords and knives, but mostly all they had were blasters. There were all sorts, ranging from rifles, pistols, repeaters, even cannons for bikes and speeders. She spent a good amount of time looking over each pistol, trying to find one that suited her. Finally she came across it. A DC-15s side arm blaster. She remembered her father talking about them before. It held a nice solid shape and the color scheme was nice as well. Mixed between a faint gold, burgundy, and black, it held a wonderful sense of elegance. She went to clerk and mentioned the blaster. Unlocking the case he pulled it out for her.
She held it in her hand. The weight was nice. It was perfect. She mentioned buying it and the man led her to the counter. On the way, she found a holster that worked well for it. It strapped firmly around her right leg, a good spot, especially for wearing a skirt. She brought it along as they made their way to pay for it. The price ended at 1000 credits. Giving the chip to the man, he took off the amount before returning it to her. she thanked the man.
Heading back out into the city, she decided to stay in a hotel for a few days. Finding a suitable one, she paid for her room and made her way inside where she cleaned up and fell asleep.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 8, 2013 9:52:28 GMT -8
Money and the need for credits often made people do the silliest of things to survive. The real oddities occurred when the same people decided that they wanted to thrive. She often wondered if this strangeness always following life around was the exact sort of thing that her creators relished in. No, she was human, mostly —she had parents and a childhood, even maybe a name. She couldn't remember them without the lockouts kicking in, however. Thought? Ow, then music. Perhaps it was a tune that made sense to the situations, or sometimes it was just My Little Valentine. Whatever the song, it had occurred to the songstress that whoever made her what she was today didn't want her to be introspective. She had been designed for entertainment. So entertain she did. Naturally, if she could remember a name, she'd sing it. That being in short supply, most people who dealt with her simply referred to her as "39," simply because of the black tattooes inked upon her neck, just above the collarbone, and on the tricep of her left arm. Shrug. Names dont really mean anything anyway.
So, here she was walking to the enlistment center, and dressed professionally. Black button down blouse, a pencil skirt down to the knee —no need to be showy— a stripped tie and basic leather shoes for a "stewardess" look, along with a little cap to complete the look. The advertisements and local scuttlebutt in the bars and clubs she sang in most nights painted a fair and equitable picture of the mercenary group, and the best part of it was the hefty pay rate for a more steady stream of work. Action out of poverty? No, she lived comfortably in an apartment, but she wanted a little more. In short: she wanted to thrive, and mercs always got to travel the galaxy. Who knows? Maybe she'd end up performing for stadiums of patrons on the Core Worlds.
"You never give me your money,
you only give me your funny paper."
Sung lowly to herself while strolling through the busy lives. Some probably thought she was nuts.
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Ander Tagira
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Well, I'll be...
Posts: 567
Affiliation: GALSAF, Mandalore, Yavin 4 Jedi Praxeum
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Post by Ander Tagira on Aug 8, 2013 10:47:27 GMT -8
Wherever the Galactic Security Assistance Force happened to be operating, Commander Tagira had ordered for ad hoc recruitment centers to be set up whenever possible. Lacking the devious, yet authoritative power to conscript, as well as surviving off of generous benefactors, GALSAF was forced to relay on more traditional methods of recruitment: Persuasion.
There was nothing sinister about GALSAF's recruiting scheme, to be sure, though catcalling through the streets in the hopes of picking up young idealists was nothing short of inefficient in Sergent Cal Warden's opinion. And so he opted for a more logical and casual approach: Hit up the cantinas of the entertainment districts for anyone looking to simply "get away from it all."
Cal was strolling through one of the busy alleys within the entertainment sector of the Matai District, pondering the result of the battle that had taken place on the world over the recent months. Some Sith named Nexus had seen it within his power to test the will and strength of Lady Tanith Desaevio by slaughtering hundreds and thousands of her people, and GALSAF had responded to her call for help.
The battle itself had gone rather well, GALSAF losses had been higher than desired, of course, though civilian losses had remained minimal, mostly due to the great organizational effort that had gone into securing their safety. That effort had been led by Lady Tanith and her own people, an effort that had impressed Warden to the extreme. More often than not, civilians requiring GALSAF assistance were disorganized and lacking in any real provisions, which had the effect of draining GALSAF resources.
And yet the battle had been won. Nexus' forces had been pushed out of the system and rebuilding had begun immediately. Lady Tanith's organizational abilities had contributed most greatly to that effort. The planet, it seemed, was at peace once more.
Sergent Warden still carried his rifle with him wherever he went, however, in no small part due to orders from on high. His Katarn Mark-IV armor remained back at the flat that had been rented on his behalf by GALSAF Command, in order to provide a sort of headquarters for his recruitment efforts in the post-battle.
He had picked up a handful of recruits in the past month, all of whom had already been shipped out for training that would take place primarily on board the GALSAF flagship, an Imperial-II class Star Destroyer named the Basterd's Hand. It was his last week on Contruum before, he too, would be rejoining the fleet that was currently in orbit over the planet of Mandalore, where some sort of new offensive was being planned by the Lord Commander and members of the Mandalorian Clans. What the offensive entailed, Warden wasn't sure, though he suspected it would be a massive movement against the Sith.
In the meantime, Warden was focused less on recruiting at this point, and more on simply enjoying his last week of shore leave before shipping halfway across the galaxy once more.
Making his way towards one of the cantinas he had been frequenting since the hostilities on the planet had ended, Warden pondered just how he should spend his last seven days. The other commando with him, Sergent Lilli Tarlan, was likely already there. "Minimum effort, maximum reward" seemed to be her motto, and she always left their work efforts much earlier than Warden, which bothered him, though he couldn't resent her for it.
Nearing the cantina entrance some blocks down, Warden caught sight of an adorable little tart traipsing her way down the alley. She was garbed in a sleeveless dress patterned with flowers, and a pin in her hair that held it in a loose bun. The commando recognized her from another establishment he'd spent several nights at the month before, she was one of the cantina's entertainers. Great singing voice, great body; the woman danced like nothing Warden had ever seen.
Entertainment, Warden thought to himself. That's what we could do with on board the Hand.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 8, 2013 12:31:50 GMT -8
As Force generated luck, otherwise known as plot progression, would have it, 39 had spotted what looked like an officer spying one of the town's more typical and well liked entertainers. Cue the eye roll and just a slight twinge of jealousy: she couldn't dance as well as that performer could —she really wasn't one for shaking ass with the hopes of getting extra credits shoved into the hems and pockets of her outfits. Still, the woman with the pin in her head made it look graceful. 39 had an advantage over the much more superior woman did: desperation. The performer made more than enough in the town, nearly being the stuff of legends, as far as local chit-chat went. She'd never shack up with a ship full of disgruntled men and women who were liable to die at a moment's notice. However, the rather somber and aqua color haired girl would.
The manner in which civilians of the Matai District were comfortable with the GALSAF spoke to great volumes on how favorably they acted towards their charges. Sure, maybe there was a drunken fight here and there but generally the citizens looked to anyone wearing the patch as a peacekeeper and helper of sorts. She didn't even see the rifle, really —she just walks up to Warden and taps him softly on the arm that didn't currently support his weapon. Ready in her hands was a piece of paper with the message, "GALSAF?" written upon it. The aqua headed lass smiles brightly, brimming with confidence regardless if essentially she was a mute when there wasn't a song lyric to explain the situation.
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Ander Tagira
Member
Well, I'll be...
Posts: 567
Affiliation: GALSAF, Mandalore, Yavin 4 Jedi Praxeum
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Post by Ander Tagira on Aug 8, 2013 15:29:09 GMT -8
Cal was just about to make his way to the bar for a drink when he felt someone tapping away at his shoulder. Beside him stood a thin, young-looking human woman. She had pale skin and wore a black blouse and a pencil-skirt with a tie and a cap. In her hand she held a scrap of paper with the word "GALSAF?" written on it. Cal narrowed his eyes in suspicion, his free hand dropping subtly to his sidearm. Why she hadn't spoken to him, he had no idea.
"What of it?" He asked, turning to face the young woman. He was growing increasingly alert, unsure of the woman's intentions. Something was afoot, that he was sure of. He just had no idea what.
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Post by Lady Tanith Desaevio on Aug 8, 2013 17:53:16 GMT -8
Tanith slowly stepped out of the transporter and onto the cobbled stones that made up the streets of the Matai Province. The wind gently blow, tossing her hair in slow waves about the back of her head as her amethyst eyes scanned her surroundings. The city looked the same and yet different, there had been some enhancements done when Contruum had been rebuilt after Nexus' attack. Tanith was glad that things were seemingly getting back to normal and so with a small smile she made her way deeper into the heart of the town.
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Darragh Kennan
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Post by Darragh Kennan on Aug 8, 2013 18:29:05 GMT -8
"Gimme twentay." Darragh told the man, a pale-grey faced Rodian who called himself "Glee-lock" for reasons Darragh didn't fancy fathoming. The Rodian hissed through his proboscis-like mouth, his black eyes widening.
"Twerntyyy?? Are you srure??" The man asked, as if he were surprised. Darragh suspected he was. The man can't have been selling too much lately, what with those military jar heads still occupying the world and no one wanting to touch weapons after the recent Sith attack. The city, no, the whole planet, was done with war for the time being, which was great for Darragh. It made weapons cheap, which meant he could sell them off-world for a decent profit. Hopefully whatever money he could garner here in the city would be enough to repair his ship and get him out of the system.
The Rodian took Darragh's credit chits, and handed him the magazines. Darragh inspected them, making sure they weren't cracked or unusually dirty. The ammunition inside was as clean as the mags themselves, for which Darragh tossed the Rodian another ten credits. The weapons were already packed up and ready to move back to his ship, which remained docked outside one of the refugee camps still lining the city as people were being transferred to their newer homes.
"Ave a good one mate." Darragh thanked the man, then loaded the last two weapons crates onto a repulsor sled and pushed off down the alley. Back to the ship and he'd be all good for the going. Darragh kept his eyes open for soldiers and authority figures of any sort, remnants from coalition forces that had come to assist Contruum during the recent attack. Down the road, amongst the dozens of citizens and salesmen, peddlers and craftsmen, Darragh spotted a pretty miss with long shining hair. Grinning to himself, Darragh kicked the sled up a flight of stairs and took a left down another alley, intent on reaching his ship as quickly as he could. He pushed the trolly left and…
…right into the armored chest of one of those Mandalorian-looking soldiers.
Darragh played it off cool, flashing the soldier a smile, "My bad, good sir, don' let meh ruin yer day." Pushing the sled off to the side, Darragh intended on side-stepping the soldier and continuing onward. As he passed the man, he felt an armored hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks.
"What's your cargo, sir?" The soldier asked, his other hand resting on the grip of a Verpine assault carbine, one of the best on the market. Darragh almost licked his lips. That sort of merch would go for thousands…
"I asked you about your cargo, sir." The soldier repeated firmly.
Darragh shook his head, stepping back from the sled with his hands up. "Me bad mate, I di'n't mean ta--"
Darragh burst forward, shoving the soldier out of his way and taking off down the alley way, opposite the pretty lady he'd seen just moments before. Tha'll probably the last pre'y thing I'll see before hittin' the slammer. He lamented, breathing heavily as the soldier began chasing him down the road. Dirt kicked up behind him as he booked it towards the spaceport, the heat of the day causing a sweat to grow on his chest and neck.
Prepared to continue forward, Darragh was surprised when another soldier came at him from the left, barelling into him and knocking him to the ground. Darragh grunted and yanked the soldier's helmet from his head, then smacked him in the face with it and crawled out from under the man. He took off to the right and into the main road, which was filled with people and vehicles. Darragh dodged civilians and merchants alike, jumped a speeder and began working his way back the direction from which he'd came. The road cleared out a block back and Darragh looked behind him to see if the first soldier had been able to keep pace.
There were no soldiers in sight, and Darragh laughed to himself before turning forward again.
And smacked right into someone standing in front of him.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2013 8:28:42 GMT -8
Of course, bothering this guy when he was probably off duty or on his way to a cantina was not the brightest of ideas. Sudden regret plays out like a roller coaster, but she shoves the feeling down before it overtakes her face and no doubt ruins her only attempt at this. Besides, obviously she wasn't out to slice his neck, most civilians don't generally carry weapons in this town, and most of them weren't bathing in the dark glow of the dark side. Tack, she needed a bit more tact. Still, she makes a surprised face to his sudden and checked aggression -complete with an "O" for the mouth. Calm snuffs out the excitement and she begins to sing while rummaging for a pen in order to scribble another note to the GALSAF Merc.
"There're many black ears here to listen.
My body was fucked up so nice with encores from stage right, stage fright,
charging from the bass knives to the treble.
But onstage they ain't got no roots rock rebel,
onstage they ain't got no. . .
roots. Rock! Rebel! Hugh!
Dress back, jump back: this is a bluebeat attack
'Cos it won't get you anywhere
fooling with your guns.
The Sithy Army is waiting out there
an' it weighs fifteen hundred tons.
White youth, black youth:
better find another solution.
Why not phone up Robin Hood
and ask him for some wealth distribution!"
A song no doubt played to the faster pace of punk rock beat, and one that probably didn't make much sense in relation to the current situation. She figured the lyrics were strange enough to keep his attention pinned to her. If that failed, there was her voice to consider. After all, she was designed to sing. To say it warbled, rasped, hit high and low notes to the point of perfection, even to a simple punk song, was not an understatement. Besides, she has finished writing the second blurb which she showed the man now. It reads in standard cursive, 'You're hiring, and I'm looking.' It was a bit blunt, even forward, far more forward than she liked to be. There was nothing to lose here, however. If he didn't like her, he'd just walk away, and she'd just have to reconsider her desire to see the galaxy. Disappointments in life were just a bit legion these days.
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Ander Tagira
Member
Well, I'll be...
Posts: 567
Affiliation: GALSAF, Mandalore, Yavin 4 Jedi Praxeum
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Post by Ander Tagira on Aug 9, 2013 8:43:51 GMT -8
Warden raised an eyebrow as the girl began singing whilst digging around through her bag for--Warden tensed momentarily--a pen. A tuneless rhyme began to drift from the woman's lips to Warden's ears, and though it was nothing but words, no beat, no instruments, the commando's mind seemed to generate it for her. Warden wasn't much musically minded. He couldn't pin the heads to any of his own favorite bands, nevermind remembering their names or the names of their songs.
Even so, this girl's song reminded him of something, and the music seemed to create itself in his head around her words.
Moments later, Cal was yanked from his thoughts as she shoved the paper back in her face. It read "You're hiring, and I'm looking." Cal leant aside, to get a look at the girl's face again. She was petite, just in general when compared to Cal, who still remained partially armored beneath his cloak. Her features were soft but when he looked at her he could only feel slightly…confused. He had no idea why.
Cal lifted his hand from his sidearm and gently gripped the girl's wrist that held the paper and pulled it from his face. "Well, look...we're hiring soldiers. I'm not sure we could rightly take you as a soldier, lass, all things considered."
Even as he said it, Cal felt bad for the girl for some reason, as if he were crushing some sort of dream of hers. But it couldn't be helped, commandos were usually tough to begin with, but Cal wasn't sure even two years in the course could toughen this girl up.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2013 9:31:13 GMT -8
Every war has its soldiers, be they regulars or mercenaries. Gulliver was the latter. Technically called a "security specialist," he made a living by traveling from one battlefield to another. There were always places that needed a man skilled in "securing" people, places, and things. Sometimes it meant protecting them. More often than not it meant destroying them. Still, it paid well, and Gulliver always tried to come down on the side of the good guys. Good, in this case, meant whichever side was less likely to bite him in the ass when it was all said and done.
So he had found himself on Cotruum, brought in after the initial conflict to help the locals keep an eye out for any terrorist cells left behind by the attackers. Three months had gone by without a hitch, and his contract was up. The locals had paid him well and bid him farewell, thanking him for his services but politely insisting that he left the planet soonest. That suited him just fine. He could use a break, having been gainfully employed in the field of institutionalized murder for long enough to be sick of it. Foyle wanted to travel for a bit. That he had the funds and a ship were just icing on the cake.
So naturally, walking down the busy street on the way to the spaceport, he couldn't help but notice the woman with the funky hair as she approached the soldier. Looking for work of some kind. She was dressed all wrong to be a hooker, so maybe a musician of some sort? And then her voice...
Though years of loud noises had robbed the young human of some of his hearing, he still had an ear for music. Foyle couldn't help but stop and listen. Pitch perfect, aurally pleasing, and unless he was mistaken, the lyrics were composed on the spot. Or at least he wasn't familiar with the tune. He hitched the straps of his ruck a little closer to the center, in the hopes that it would make the 50 kilo pack a little more comfortable. It didn't, but it made him feel better as he crossed the street towards the singer and the clearly uncomfortable soldier.
He couldn't see what she had scribbled on the pad, but the soldier's refusal made it clear enough.
"Excuse me miss," he said. His voice was deep, as one would expect from someone his size, but surprisingly soft. It could, if needed, ring out loud enough to be heard over the sounds of incoming artillery fire, but Gulliver didn't like to yell if he could help it. "I don't have any work for you, but if you're looking for a ride offplanet, I might be able to help. Just finished a job here and I'm looking to travel around a bit. If you want to ride along until you find some work, I wouldn't complain."
In some parts of the galaxy (Coruscant came to mind,) hitching a ride with a random stranger was unthinkable. Out here though, it was generally considered safe. Most everyone carried a blaster once you left the Core. It had a way of keeping folks polite. It also meant that the hitchhiker could be reasonably certain that their ride wasn't going to take them down without a fight, and the captain could be reasonably certain that his passengers weren't going to get the ship. Credits or favors might be exchanged, but as often as not, company was payment enough. Space could get awfully lonely.
Foyle didn't often pick up travelers, just the ones that intrigued him in a nonthreatening manner. This green-haired singer certainly fit that description. If the girl wanted to travel, Gulliver would have taken her along just so he wouldn't have to sit on his ship alone for awhile. If she didn't, he'd tip her a few credits for the song and be on his way.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2013 14:02:47 GMT -8
Creepy wasn't the word that could be used to describe what just happened. It was a ballpark estimation, but did no justice to this tree of a man with a soft voice. Fortunately for every one involved this kind of thing wasn't a rare occurrence for the young woman labeled as number thirty nine. Especially with the war, there were always soldiers and mercenaries approaching her after a performance with promises of a better life, quick romance, striking, or even a proposal or two. Surprisingly no one had been too forward or pushy within reason, there were cheaper and easier looking girls and boys for that purpose —there was just something about her singing that left soldiers introspective, sometimes teary, or thinking of family at home. It was nice to see some people, people stuck in the grit of life taking, could display such softened sensibilities. Yes, it was in the soldier's eyes, something indescribable that you could trust.
But this wasn't a fairy tale. Our teal haired subject wasn't looking for one off companionship while prowling the stars. If it were that simple, she would have left with the first guy who asked. She wanted fans, stardom, and to perfect her craft and share with whoever wanted to listen. A group like GALSAF had just enough clout to turn heads where ever they touched boots. Plus, it gave her an edge on the sexier, looser, drug sucking, and attention whoring types. Oh, who's the girl who sings for the downtrodden, and those low on morale? Exactly the kind of talk she wanted to generate, and she wouldn't have to pass up on her soul to do so. Still, he seemed like a nice guy —they usually do when they want something— and turning him away cold shoulder seemed unusually cruel, especially since it was her voice that drew him over in the first place. He was also burly and all mercenary looking. GALSAF wanted troopers, and this guy pretty much had the concept covered. This was a puzzle. There had to be way to make all these pieces fit.
"Fish in the sea,
you know how I feel.
River running free,
you know how I feel.
Blossom in the trees,
you know how I feel.
It's a new dawn,
It's a new day,
It's a new life
fooooooor meeeee,
and I'm feeling good.
Dragonfly out in the sun,
you know what I mean, don't you know.
Butterflies all out havin' fun,
you know what I mean.
Sleep in peace when day is done
and this old world is a new world
and a bold world!
Stars when you shine,
you know how I feel.
Scent of the pine,
you know how I feel.
Yeah, freedom is mine
and you know how I feel!"
She motions the other soldier with an open palm, as if to say, 'You see?' Soldiers needed this kind of thing, otherwise, they turn into depressed wrecks out in the void. In any case, this interview was stretching away, and she could see this recruitment officer slipping away. She had just one more song up her sleeve. If it didn't work, then this was a pipe a dream. Still, you had to have hope until the bitter end.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2013 14:30:16 GMT -8
The big merc raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Shrugging with a pack the size of a bantha is easier said than done, but it gets the point across. That there was no creaking from the overburdened frame or rattling from the inside would be a clear indicator to anyone in the life that its bearer knew a thing or two about being tactical. Gulliver wasn't looking for a new job along those lines; he had enough credits stashed away to live a simple but comfortable life on most planets in the Rim. But old habits die hard and had a way of making a man hard to kill.
He found it odd that she seemed to communicate via songs and scribbles, but that wasn't any of his business. Still, the least he could do was lend a helping hand on the way to the spaceport.
"If you're trying to get a job with that outfit, miss, you're not going to have much luck. Entertainment isn't exactly high on their priority list."
He fished around in one of the many pockets and came up with a couple of business cards and a few credit chips. They were a bit more than one would generally give a street performer, but Gulliver had always tried to help out where he could. He knew it wouldn't balance the scales of his life, not even close. But it was something.
"If you need work, both of those groups could stand a singer or two. They're not huge, but they pay well and they take care of their own."
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Post by Lady Tanith Desaevio on Aug 9, 2013 14:34:08 GMT -8
Tanith had been lost in her own world, her eyes not wanting to miss a thing as she took in everything around her, it amazed at at how different everything looked yet the people tried their best to make it the home that it once was. After re-securing Contruum, Tanith dissolved the EOE into the The New Order of the Jensaarai which was now lead by Lord Garwig, one of Lady Tanith's oldest and trusted friends. She sat on the planet's counsel but decided that she would step down from planetary battles, unless she was needed. Tanith wanted a quieter life, the life of an Empress had been rewarding, yet empty in their own ways.
Her eyes stumbled upon a family just off to the side of her, a young couple doting over their young daughter, Tanith could feel a slight tightening in her chest, a constant reminder that even though she had once been the most powerful female Sith in the universe, she lacked a basic and fundamental role of that of a female being a wife and a mother. In her quest to rule the galaxy and keep her friends safe, Tanith had sacrificed something that she had always wanted for herself. She did not think that it was impossible to attain it, however given all the years that had passed Tanith thought that perhaps she may have taken for granted all the missed opportunities.
So caught up in her thoughts she was not watching where she was going and as she turned around she was unable to brace the hard wall of muscle that slammed into her causing her to fly back and topple onto the ground. "What the hell..." she softly muttered.
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Ander Tagira
Member
Well, I'll be...
Posts: 567
Affiliation: GALSAF, Mandalore, Yavin 4 Jedi Praxeum
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Ander Tagira on Aug 9, 2013 14:52:50 GMT -8
Cal had watched the other man approach after his calm refusal of the girl's inquiry for employment. The man seemed tough, a well equipped son of a gun, born of combat and made for fighting. For a moment, Warden considered offering the man a job, but the following moments told him he wouldn't care to fight for anything save cash, and those weren't the type GALSAF sought to induct into their commando ranks.
GALSAF needed committed people, hard people yes, but those who were willing to commit their lives to a greater cause. Warden himself knew it all sounded too corny for most folks to buy, but it worked well enough. GALSAF fought for those who couldn't fight for themselves, and they had no need for mercenaries.
Cal listened to the girl's next song, which he believed was intended to be a response to the other man's offer of transport and advice on employment. He wished he could have understood what her song meant, wished he was intuitive enough to know what this girl was thinking, how she thought. But he couldn't. She existed on an entirely different level, it seemed, lived for a purpose that Cal felt was as blatantly obvious and average as it was deeply personal and unique.
As the girl's voice faded once more, Cal couldn't help but feel she embodied, in some ways, the sort of ideals that GALSAF itself instilled in its commandos. It was as if two like minds, this girl's and the organization's, found kindred spirits with one another. Cal took a moment to allow the other man to conclude his proposal, then gently he touched the girl on the shoulder, to return her attention to himself.
"Look," he said, "You're no soldier, that much is clear. But if you need a way out of here, a way to…I dunno, improve your situation…then maybe I can see what can be done." He smiled frankly, "After all, that's what the organization is all about: Making things happen. But I need to know more about who you are." With that, Cal glanced in the other man's direction and told him, "Your assistance was greatly appreciated."
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Darragh Kennan
Member
Posts: 9
Affiliation: None but myself
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Darragh Kennan on Aug 9, 2013 15:07:14 GMT -8
Tanith had been lost in her own world, her eyes not wanting to miss a thing as she took in everything around her, it amazed at at how different everything looked yet the people tried their best to make it the home that it once was. After re-securing Contruum, Tanith dissolved the EOE into the The New Order of the Jensaarai which was now lead by Lord Garwig, one of Lady Tanith's oldest and trusted friends. She sat on the planet's counsel but decided that she would step down from planetary battles, unless she was needed. Tanith wanted a quieter life, the life of an Empress had been rewarding, yet empty in their own ways.
Her eyes stumbled upon a family just off to the side of her, a young couple doting over their young daughter, Tanith could feel a slight tightening in her chest, a constant reminder that even though she had once been the most powerful female Sith in the universe, she lacked a basic and fundamental role of that of a female being a wife and a mother. In her quest to rule the galaxy and keep her friends safe, Tanith had sacrificed something that she had always wanted for herself. She did not think that it was impossible to attain it, however given all the years that had passed Tanith thought that perhaps she may have taken for granted all the missed opportunities.
So caught up in her thoughts she was not watching where she was going and as she turned around she was unable to brace the hard wall of muscle that slammed into her causing her to fly back and topple onto the ground. "What the hell..." she softly muttered.
"Why you gone and got in me way, lady!? Can' ya see I'm on the run here! Daaagh!" He shouted, picking himself off of his arse and slapping the dust off his clothes. His shirt was ripped, and one of his nipples had been scraped on the ground as he fell. It stung like nothing else.
"Agh! Me nipple's bleedin'! You, you…DAMN woman!" Darragh cursed again, wiping blood from his chest. The injury wasn't too severe, but Darragh was more pissed off than anything. And right in the middle of his fantastic escape. Briefly he thought of his merchandise, recently purchase and abandoned, bought with some of the last of his savings.
Standing firm, Darragh looked the woman up and down. She was fit, to be sure, and much younger than he was. He'd have gotten in her knickers had he the time, but for the moment he had his own skin to save.
Darragh looked over his shoulder, relieved to see no one was following him. He grinned, and began laughing to himself in relief. If they hadn't seized his merch, then he might not be out all those credits after all.
The arms dealer looked back down towards the woman, the grin dying from his face as an armored figure leapt over her and tackled Darragh to the ground. Darragh tried fighting the man, but his attempt to grapple his way out of the situation died when a rifle stock slammed into the back of his head.
"Ahcomeon…" He slurred as he slipped into unconsciousness. |
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Post by Lady Tanith Desaevio on Aug 9, 2013 16:15:03 GMT -8
"Ahcomeon…" He slurred as he slipped into unconsciousness. |
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