Post by Jerek on Sept 26, 2005 19:38:36 GMT -5
((After getting the laziness of my back and sitting 45 mins in front of the computer, I bring you a random chapter in Jerek’s life, as told by Jerek, that polite, cruel, and very disturbed zabrak. There’s a backstory to all this but I like to write in randomized chapters that tell short episodes of Jerek’s life.
Tell me what y’all think, I might write more….))
It was a dark and cold night brothers, your narrator sat on a neatly polished, black swoop, backed up into a small alley in a neat and quiet sector of Coronet. I was looking at my datapad, going over the information on my target for what must have been the hundredth time, while humming an old tune from my homeland. Tonight, the unlucky victim was a human, somewhere in his late 30’s, a pampered young noble with some important friends in Corellia, he could have been a politician but he turned out to be a freelance writer who used his money to stay out of the control of the Imperial media. Our young friend was in my datapad tonight for writing a controversial article on what he called “Imperial brutality”. Normally, an agent from propaganda would take care of ruining this fool’s career, but our friend made the mistake of personally attacking High Inquisitor Fa’Zoll. For this reason, my master had decided that it would be best if the Inquisition personally demonstrated to all the freelance writers just what “Imperial brutality” was, making an example of this nobleman.
I was just starting to get bored when our friend finally arrived, his red and blue AV-21 purred away nicely as he drove it into the garage of the shiny, clean apartment building just in front of me. My heart raced with excitement brothers, as it always does when you know the hour of killing is at hand. I took some time to make sure the streets were nice and empty, and then climbed off my swoop, straightened my black duster and put on my black leather work gloves. This looked like a promising night. I was originally going to carry out the job with only a standard issue scout blaster, and my ever so handy survival knife, but I was in such a good mood, I decided I might as well have some fun tonight, (me not being that great of a shot anyway). I opened a side compartment on my bike and pulled out my beautiful scythe blade, fully equipped with a state of the art vibro-motor, the tool of an artist my brothers. I swung the blade onto my shoulder and crossed the quiet street into the building.
The lobby of the building was very elegant, the very best in furnishings, beautifully crafted purple couches along the walls, tall white marble pillars, and a long red carpet along the floor. As I walked in I caught the sight of a fat and bald night guard, who’s eyes widened upon seeing the magnificent tool of destruction I carried on my shoulder.
Leave no witnesses.
I pulled that standard issue scout blaster from its holster and shot him twice on the chest, he fell forward on his counter, silent. I put my blaster back and took the guard’s security keycard, then rode the elevator in front of me, up to the eight floor, and then down the long hallway to apartment 83F, where the fun would begin.
As I stood in the doorway of 83F, I pulled the fat guard’s keycard from my belt, and slid it into the door, which I opened ever so slowly and silently brothers. I stood in a large dark room in the apartment, in the darkness I could make out neatly packed up and labeled crates, ready to be taken away. It seemed our unlucky friend had realized he would be in danger, but he didn’t realize how quickly it would come to him. I could hear laughter coming from another room, and music, a piece I recognized performed by the Vreni Island Symphonic Orchestra. I moved forward across the room and noticed an opened glass door to my left, beyond it was a balcony dimly lit by candles, on the balcony was an elegantly set table, where my victim sat, having his last dinner with a beautiful girl if you can imagine her brothers, with penetrating green eyes, long curled brown hair, dressed in the very height of Corellian fashion. I gave them a glance. Then I walked through the open door.
“Well hello there,” I said with a smile. The target and the beautiful girl both rose to their feet startled by my sudden intrusion. “W-who are you,” said the noble brat in an arrogant tone like most nobles use nowadays, “What are you doing in my house? And how did you get past security?” He must have mistaken me for a common thief.
I smiled again and took 3 steps forward. “I do hope you’re not referring to the fat man I shot on my way in brother.”
The reporter’s face filled with terror this time, as if he suddenly understood what was going on.
“W-what?” he stuttered “What do you want of me? Anything please, just don’t hurt me…”
“I’m afraid I’ve been sent here by Lord Fa’Zoll little brother, nothing personal.” I said tightly gripping my scythe.
The poor man’s face filled with dismay now, then something unexpected happened, that beautiful green eyed girl panicked, she reached for the table to get a hold of something I hadn’t noticed before, a small blaster lying concealed on the mantelpiece. As she pulled it off the table I raised my scout blaster and shot her in the forehead oh brothers, practically between those beautiful green eyes. She fell flat on her back, then rested peacefully and silently.
As you can expect brothers, our friend’s face turned pale white as he screamed “No!” then fell to his knees, taking the body of his loved one going “boo-hoo”, a real pathetic spectacle. I gave the nobleman some courtesy time to mourn the girl, then he looked up at me and managed to say through sobs and gritted teeth, “Someday, your empire will burn as will all of you imperial dogs!” now I just couldn’t help but laugh at this last comment, which really angered him, so he got on his feet and screamed “You swine!” as he charged me. Now was my time brothers, I moved in below him and hit him across the stomach with the butt of my scythe, he groaned and fell to his knees, trying to catch his breath, but he never got a chance brothers, for I brought my scythe above my head (and rather gracefully I might add) brought it down on him, sending our friend the noble reporter’s head rolling across the balcony.
The Vreni Island Symphonic Orchestra played on as I stood over the body of my target. I wasn’t sure Inquisitor Fa’Zoll would approve of my indiscretion for completing this job, but I knew Lord Hethrir would be pleased with my display of “Imperial brutality”. I chuckled at this thought. Ultimately, it was Lord Hethrir, my master and mentor whom I had to please if I wanted to learn the power of the force, the weapon I would use to avenge my fallen brothers. I was pretty sure the Cor Sec investigators would arrive on the scene next morning, making a big scandal of the situation, the headless corpse at my feet being noble born and all. It didn’t really matter, despite the mess I had left, I was pretty sure there was no trace that could give me away. I left the living flat the same way I came in, across the same empty street, and placed my scythe back in its compartment. I climbed on my shiny black swoop and headed out of Coronet humming that old tune from my homeland. I headed home, to Red Star City, to catch some drinks at Tokie’s cantina and then go get some well deserved sleep.
Tell me what y’all think, I might write more….))
It was a dark and cold night brothers, your narrator sat on a neatly polished, black swoop, backed up into a small alley in a neat and quiet sector of Coronet. I was looking at my datapad, going over the information on my target for what must have been the hundredth time, while humming an old tune from my homeland. Tonight, the unlucky victim was a human, somewhere in his late 30’s, a pampered young noble with some important friends in Corellia, he could have been a politician but he turned out to be a freelance writer who used his money to stay out of the control of the Imperial media. Our young friend was in my datapad tonight for writing a controversial article on what he called “Imperial brutality”. Normally, an agent from propaganda would take care of ruining this fool’s career, but our friend made the mistake of personally attacking High Inquisitor Fa’Zoll. For this reason, my master had decided that it would be best if the Inquisition personally demonstrated to all the freelance writers just what “Imperial brutality” was, making an example of this nobleman.
I was just starting to get bored when our friend finally arrived, his red and blue AV-21 purred away nicely as he drove it into the garage of the shiny, clean apartment building just in front of me. My heart raced with excitement brothers, as it always does when you know the hour of killing is at hand. I took some time to make sure the streets were nice and empty, and then climbed off my swoop, straightened my black duster and put on my black leather work gloves. This looked like a promising night. I was originally going to carry out the job with only a standard issue scout blaster, and my ever so handy survival knife, but I was in such a good mood, I decided I might as well have some fun tonight, (me not being that great of a shot anyway). I opened a side compartment on my bike and pulled out my beautiful scythe blade, fully equipped with a state of the art vibro-motor, the tool of an artist my brothers. I swung the blade onto my shoulder and crossed the quiet street into the building.
The lobby of the building was very elegant, the very best in furnishings, beautifully crafted purple couches along the walls, tall white marble pillars, and a long red carpet along the floor. As I walked in I caught the sight of a fat and bald night guard, who’s eyes widened upon seeing the magnificent tool of destruction I carried on my shoulder.
Leave no witnesses.
I pulled that standard issue scout blaster from its holster and shot him twice on the chest, he fell forward on his counter, silent. I put my blaster back and took the guard’s security keycard, then rode the elevator in front of me, up to the eight floor, and then down the long hallway to apartment 83F, where the fun would begin.
As I stood in the doorway of 83F, I pulled the fat guard’s keycard from my belt, and slid it into the door, which I opened ever so slowly and silently brothers. I stood in a large dark room in the apartment, in the darkness I could make out neatly packed up and labeled crates, ready to be taken away. It seemed our unlucky friend had realized he would be in danger, but he didn’t realize how quickly it would come to him. I could hear laughter coming from another room, and music, a piece I recognized performed by the Vreni Island Symphonic Orchestra. I moved forward across the room and noticed an opened glass door to my left, beyond it was a balcony dimly lit by candles, on the balcony was an elegantly set table, where my victim sat, having his last dinner with a beautiful girl if you can imagine her brothers, with penetrating green eyes, long curled brown hair, dressed in the very height of Corellian fashion. I gave them a glance. Then I walked through the open door.
“Well hello there,” I said with a smile. The target and the beautiful girl both rose to their feet startled by my sudden intrusion. “W-who are you,” said the noble brat in an arrogant tone like most nobles use nowadays, “What are you doing in my house? And how did you get past security?” He must have mistaken me for a common thief.
I smiled again and took 3 steps forward. “I do hope you’re not referring to the fat man I shot on my way in brother.”
The reporter’s face filled with terror this time, as if he suddenly understood what was going on.
“W-what?” he stuttered “What do you want of me? Anything please, just don’t hurt me…”
“I’m afraid I’ve been sent here by Lord Fa’Zoll little brother, nothing personal.” I said tightly gripping my scythe.
The poor man’s face filled with dismay now, then something unexpected happened, that beautiful green eyed girl panicked, she reached for the table to get a hold of something I hadn’t noticed before, a small blaster lying concealed on the mantelpiece. As she pulled it off the table I raised my scout blaster and shot her in the forehead oh brothers, practically between those beautiful green eyes. She fell flat on her back, then rested peacefully and silently.
As you can expect brothers, our friend’s face turned pale white as he screamed “No!” then fell to his knees, taking the body of his loved one going “boo-hoo”, a real pathetic spectacle. I gave the nobleman some courtesy time to mourn the girl, then he looked up at me and managed to say through sobs and gritted teeth, “Someday, your empire will burn as will all of you imperial dogs!” now I just couldn’t help but laugh at this last comment, which really angered him, so he got on his feet and screamed “You swine!” as he charged me. Now was my time brothers, I moved in below him and hit him across the stomach with the butt of my scythe, he groaned and fell to his knees, trying to catch his breath, but he never got a chance brothers, for I brought my scythe above my head (and rather gracefully I might add) brought it down on him, sending our friend the noble reporter’s head rolling across the balcony.
The Vreni Island Symphonic Orchestra played on as I stood over the body of my target. I wasn’t sure Inquisitor Fa’Zoll would approve of my indiscretion for completing this job, but I knew Lord Hethrir would be pleased with my display of “Imperial brutality”. I chuckled at this thought. Ultimately, it was Lord Hethrir, my master and mentor whom I had to please if I wanted to learn the power of the force, the weapon I would use to avenge my fallen brothers. I was pretty sure the Cor Sec investigators would arrive on the scene next morning, making a big scandal of the situation, the headless corpse at my feet being noble born and all. It didn’t really matter, despite the mess I had left, I was pretty sure there was no trace that could give me away. I left the living flat the same way I came in, across the same empty street, and placed my scythe back in its compartment. I climbed on my shiny black swoop and headed out of Coronet humming that old tune from my homeland. I headed home, to Red Star City, to catch some drinks at Tokie’s cantina and then go get some well deserved sleep.
<--- wishes she has a banana...
