Post by Cy Skywalker on Feb 10, 2005 19:34:41 GMT -5
Because KT asked me to....
Elan Sleazebaggano slipped from the Outlander Club onto the streets of Coruscant choked with beings, long practice keeping him to the shadows and alcoves.
You want to go home and rethink your life. That man dressed like an upper-class creditmonger had said. It rang in Elan’s antenaepalps like sweet jizz riffs, and it wouldn’t go away. Rethink your life.
Death sticks would cure this thinking to much. They delivered a pleasant forgetfulness, even for a Balosar’s bolstered senses.. But death sticks did not go with rethinking his life, because his life had not involved death sticks before the turning point that rethinking must have meant.
In time he came to his apartment on the dark side of a silver skyscraper and keyed in the code to the dark interior. It smelled of dust and spice and consisted of interconnected bedroom, kitchen and living area, and ‘fresher. Elan dumped the various contents of his pockets onto the bed; a few credits and a small hydropak, than emptied out his shoes as well. He felt like there was something he should be doing after that confrontation, but had no idea as to what it was. The only thing he really had to do tonight was visit The Thranta’s Clipped Wing to gossip with that old slythmonger Greeitu--life was pretty boring.
There was a knock on the door. Elan looked up, straightened his collar and retracted his antennae, and walked quickly to the door. Predictably, the face outside was a pretty humanoid female with purple irises and purple streaks in her hair; Koraty Vana.
Elan opened the door. “Kory.” He said, without affliction or with a tiny bit of exasperation.
Koraty practically jumped inside the tiny apartment to get out of the crowd outside. She was a Kuradoki, supposedly royalty on her planet, though here she was just another med. school student. She had finished four years and then continued two more of xenoveterinary apprenticeship; he had gotten into death sticks and spice and quit the field. She had never given up on the friendship.
Now she waved a hand in front of her nose and looked disgusted. “Man, it reeks in here. You should get a cleaning droid or something.”<br> “Smells like home to me.” He said, typically quick and unconcerned.
Koraty sniffed. “Yeah. You wanna go to dinner tonight?”<br> “I’m going to the club.”<br> “You’ve got enough clubs. Come on, why won’t you do something with your life? You’re wasting it.”<br> That was the second time someone had told him to change his life today. Maybe he should; Koraty had taken a lot of time out of her work rearranging hawkbat guts or whatever she did to come and see him.
“Fine.” He said. “But I have no money.”<br> “You have credits in your shoes.”<br> “How do you know that?”<br> “Jedi blood.”<br> “Really?”<br> “I don’t know. Maybe!” She grinned and pulled him by the hand out into the crowded streets again.
***
“Don’t shoot until you see the white of their photoreceptors.”<br> The droid guards were behind a corner of the nearest building, shielded and armed to the teeth. Kit Fisto could sense them, and grinned at the prospect of the battle. The clone troopers behind him stayed perfectly still.
Kit stepped foreword, called his lightsaber to his hand, and advanced again.
The droids were short humanoid shapes in violet spheroid shields, variants of droidekas. There were six of them, covering the path of the spice dealer the Jedi had been chasing. When Kit came into view the shields came down and a flurry of blasterbolts poured toward him. Kit jumped onto the lead droids’s shoulders and sunk his lightsaber into its head casing, then slashed through the one beside it while the others were adjusting their aim and the one Kit stood on slowly crumpled. Then the clone troopers were into it, and Kit created a Force shield that he could feel supporting his body and running along his arms like electricity. Lasers flew overhead; Kit turned and cut and was mostly ignored by the preoccupied droids, so the remaining four were down in seconds.
The clone troops became passive and in attention immediately, no casualties. Kit allowed himself a small smile, then saw the humanoid figure at the other end of the thin throughstreet.
He’s taunting us. More droids clomped into formation between him and the shadowy figure, than the man fled around the corner.
***
Koraty took Elan to a high-end Coruscant restaurant higher in the towers than the Balosar’s usual haunts. He paused at the entrance out of habit and twirled a death stick between his fingers. Koraty must have noticed it.
“You could get in real trouble for that.” She said.
“Hmm,” he said, and deftly disappeared the death stick.
Koraty looked at his fingers with wonderment. “How do you do that?”<br> “Can’t tell you.” He said.
She readied a comeback, but at that moment there was an uproar of sound over the traffic and underlying machine sounds; blasterfire, lots of it, and some smell like burning metal. Koraty jumped, Elan put a hand on her arm reflexively, and she looked at him and shrugged the help off.
Out from behind the corner there fell a dark-plated droid with something in its chest sparking, then a lightsaber-a lightsaber, in the hands of someone in downtown Coruscant?-plunged into that open cavity. Koraty forgot about Elan’s proximity and confusedly stared. Elan backed up a step and scowled.
The person who in the next moment pulled the lightsaber from the droid and deactivated it was alien, with bright green skin and many long tentacles like hair. Strange deep black eyes turned to Elan and Koraty and the alien Jedi paced toward them, tentacles twitching distractedly. He looked down at them.
“You smell like death sticks.” He said.
Elan poked a quizzical finger at himself. Koraty shook her head in disgust. She had known something like this was going to happen.
The Jedi’s head-tails rearranged again. “I need you to come with me.”<br> “What?” Elan shouted. “I haven’t done nothing.”<br> “I could already pull you in for possession. Now this is Jedi business.”<br> “How’d you know--you can’t make me go anywhere, dazaka.”<br> The alien turned slightly, and six clone troopers marched from around the corner, armor gleaming silver. The Jedi smiled rakishly at Elan.
***
They were taken to a security station a few blocks away, a small place under the command of a human. Elan was almost immediately put behind a force-field in one corner of the main room, and Koraty commended to wait in a smaller room in the back, until the questioning was finished. ‘Jedi business’, he had said, like it was top secret. All the Jedi, Master Fisto, had told her was that he had been searching for a drug dealer. Nothing big.
“So,” Fisto was saying when she was allowed in. “You smell like slyth and death sticks and have no legitimate job, but don’t know Greeitu. That’s hard to believe.”
“You can’t keep us here.” Koraty immediately said. Elan had obviously been going to say something, but stopped. “We’re citizens of the Galactic Republic! Don’t I get a comm call?”<br> “You do.” Fisto replied. “I give him a choice; he helps me find Greeitu and gets a fine or he goes to Causal for possession of illegal substances.”
Elan looked like he was going to say something but didn’t. The local security chief nodded vigorously from his desk. “Here. Only someone on Coruscant.” He indicated the holopad and comm at the desk, then left through a door behind it.
Koraty quickly sat down at the desk and dialed the first onplanet code she could think of, that of her old friend Syraxx Cerharman who was now in training as a security officer on the other side of Coruscant.
“Jettoz.” Sy picked up in her typical way. Her blonde-brown hair was messy as if she had just come from somewhere.
“Sy I’m in jail with Elan Sleazebaggano and there’s this Jedi who wants help with something or we’ll get arrested, and I get one call so I called you!”<br> There was only a slight pause after this unusual pronouncement. “Wow. Um, can I see the Jedi?”<br> “Um, sure.” Koraty turned the holoproj camera to face Master Fisto standing by the force field. He grinned amusedly when he saw what Koraty had done, and she quickly turned the camera back.
“Wow.” Sy said.
“You are so obsessed.” She was, she had always obsessed over Jedi.
“Oh well!”<br> “What do I do?”<br> “I’d help the Jedi.”<br> “Of course you would.”<br> “No really, wouldn’t you rather not be jailed?”<br> “Yes.”<br> “Then go.” Sy looked sharply at her. “You’ll get an adventure. First. Go. Hey, what’s his name?”<br> “The Jedi?” She lowered her to tell Sy but Elan was looking expectantly at her. “I gotta go. Thanks.”<br> “Yeah thanks, bye!”<br> Koraty left Sy sighing over Master Fisto and crossed the room to stand as close beside Elan as she could, to declare, “We’ll help you. What do you want us to do?”<br> “You’ll see.” Fisto said with a smile, and Elan hung his head and glared.
***
Elan Sleazebaggano slipped from the Outlander Club onto the streets of Coruscant choked with beings, long practice keeping him to the shadows and alcoves.
You want to go home and rethink your life. That man dressed like an upper-class creditmonger had said. It rang in Elan’s antenaepalps like sweet jizz riffs, and it wouldn’t go away. Rethink your life.
Death sticks would cure this thinking to much. They delivered a pleasant forgetfulness, even for a Balosar’s bolstered senses.. But death sticks did not go with rethinking his life, because his life had not involved death sticks before the turning point that rethinking must have meant.
In time he came to his apartment on the dark side of a silver skyscraper and keyed in the code to the dark interior. It smelled of dust and spice and consisted of interconnected bedroom, kitchen and living area, and ‘fresher. Elan dumped the various contents of his pockets onto the bed; a few credits and a small hydropak, than emptied out his shoes as well. He felt like there was something he should be doing after that confrontation, but had no idea as to what it was. The only thing he really had to do tonight was visit The Thranta’s Clipped Wing to gossip with that old slythmonger Greeitu--life was pretty boring.
There was a knock on the door. Elan looked up, straightened his collar and retracted his antennae, and walked quickly to the door. Predictably, the face outside was a pretty humanoid female with purple irises and purple streaks in her hair; Koraty Vana.
Elan opened the door. “Kory.” He said, without affliction or with a tiny bit of exasperation.
Koraty practically jumped inside the tiny apartment to get out of the crowd outside. She was a Kuradoki, supposedly royalty on her planet, though here she was just another med. school student. She had finished four years and then continued two more of xenoveterinary apprenticeship; he had gotten into death sticks and spice and quit the field. She had never given up on the friendship.
Now she waved a hand in front of her nose and looked disgusted. “Man, it reeks in here. You should get a cleaning droid or something.”<br> “Smells like home to me.” He said, typically quick and unconcerned.
Koraty sniffed. “Yeah. You wanna go to dinner tonight?”<br> “I’m going to the club.”<br> “You’ve got enough clubs. Come on, why won’t you do something with your life? You’re wasting it.”<br> That was the second time someone had told him to change his life today. Maybe he should; Koraty had taken a lot of time out of her work rearranging hawkbat guts or whatever she did to come and see him.
“Fine.” He said. “But I have no money.”<br> “You have credits in your shoes.”<br> “How do you know that?”<br> “Jedi blood.”<br> “Really?”<br> “I don’t know. Maybe!” She grinned and pulled him by the hand out into the crowded streets again.
***
“Don’t shoot until you see the white of their photoreceptors.”<br> The droid guards were behind a corner of the nearest building, shielded and armed to the teeth. Kit Fisto could sense them, and grinned at the prospect of the battle. The clone troopers behind him stayed perfectly still.
Kit stepped foreword, called his lightsaber to his hand, and advanced again.
The droids were short humanoid shapes in violet spheroid shields, variants of droidekas. There were six of them, covering the path of the spice dealer the Jedi had been chasing. When Kit came into view the shields came down and a flurry of blasterbolts poured toward him. Kit jumped onto the lead droids’s shoulders and sunk his lightsaber into its head casing, then slashed through the one beside it while the others were adjusting their aim and the one Kit stood on slowly crumpled. Then the clone troopers were into it, and Kit created a Force shield that he could feel supporting his body and running along his arms like electricity. Lasers flew overhead; Kit turned and cut and was mostly ignored by the preoccupied droids, so the remaining four were down in seconds.
The clone troops became passive and in attention immediately, no casualties. Kit allowed himself a small smile, then saw the humanoid figure at the other end of the thin throughstreet.
He’s taunting us. More droids clomped into formation between him and the shadowy figure, than the man fled around the corner.
***
Koraty took Elan to a high-end Coruscant restaurant higher in the towers than the Balosar’s usual haunts. He paused at the entrance out of habit and twirled a death stick between his fingers. Koraty must have noticed it.
“You could get in real trouble for that.” She said.
“Hmm,” he said, and deftly disappeared the death stick.
Koraty looked at his fingers with wonderment. “How do you do that?”<br> “Can’t tell you.” He said.
She readied a comeback, but at that moment there was an uproar of sound over the traffic and underlying machine sounds; blasterfire, lots of it, and some smell like burning metal. Koraty jumped, Elan put a hand on her arm reflexively, and she looked at him and shrugged the help off.
Out from behind the corner there fell a dark-plated droid with something in its chest sparking, then a lightsaber-a lightsaber, in the hands of someone in downtown Coruscant?-plunged into that open cavity. Koraty forgot about Elan’s proximity and confusedly stared. Elan backed up a step and scowled.
The person who in the next moment pulled the lightsaber from the droid and deactivated it was alien, with bright green skin and many long tentacles like hair. Strange deep black eyes turned to Elan and Koraty and the alien Jedi paced toward them, tentacles twitching distractedly. He looked down at them.
“You smell like death sticks.” He said.
Elan poked a quizzical finger at himself. Koraty shook her head in disgust. She had known something like this was going to happen.
The Jedi’s head-tails rearranged again. “I need you to come with me.”<br> “What?” Elan shouted. “I haven’t done nothing.”<br> “I could already pull you in for possession. Now this is Jedi business.”<br> “How’d you know--you can’t make me go anywhere, dazaka.”<br> The alien turned slightly, and six clone troopers marched from around the corner, armor gleaming silver. The Jedi smiled rakishly at Elan.
***
They were taken to a security station a few blocks away, a small place under the command of a human. Elan was almost immediately put behind a force-field in one corner of the main room, and Koraty commended to wait in a smaller room in the back, until the questioning was finished. ‘Jedi business’, he had said, like it was top secret. All the Jedi, Master Fisto, had told her was that he had been searching for a drug dealer. Nothing big.
“So,” Fisto was saying when she was allowed in. “You smell like slyth and death sticks and have no legitimate job, but don’t know Greeitu. That’s hard to believe.”
“You can’t keep us here.” Koraty immediately said. Elan had obviously been going to say something, but stopped. “We’re citizens of the Galactic Republic! Don’t I get a comm call?”<br> “You do.” Fisto replied. “I give him a choice; he helps me find Greeitu and gets a fine or he goes to Causal for possession of illegal substances.”
Elan looked like he was going to say something but didn’t. The local security chief nodded vigorously from his desk. “Here. Only someone on Coruscant.” He indicated the holopad and comm at the desk, then left through a door behind it.
Koraty quickly sat down at the desk and dialed the first onplanet code she could think of, that of her old friend Syraxx Cerharman who was now in training as a security officer on the other side of Coruscant.
“Jettoz.” Sy picked up in her typical way. Her blonde-brown hair was messy as if she had just come from somewhere.
“Sy I’m in jail with Elan Sleazebaggano and there’s this Jedi who wants help with something or we’ll get arrested, and I get one call so I called you!”<br> There was only a slight pause after this unusual pronouncement. “Wow. Um, can I see the Jedi?”<br> “Um, sure.” Koraty turned the holoproj camera to face Master Fisto standing by the force field. He grinned amusedly when he saw what Koraty had done, and she quickly turned the camera back.
“Wow.” Sy said.
“You are so obsessed.” She was, she had always obsessed over Jedi.
“Oh well!”<br> “What do I do?”<br> “I’d help the Jedi.”<br> “Of course you would.”<br> “No really, wouldn’t you rather not be jailed?”<br> “Yes.”<br> “Then go.” Sy looked sharply at her. “You’ll get an adventure. First. Go. Hey, what’s his name?”<br> “The Jedi?” She lowered her to tell Sy but Elan was looking expectantly at her. “I gotta go. Thanks.”<br> “Yeah thanks, bye!”<br> Koraty left Sy sighing over Master Fisto and crossed the room to stand as close beside Elan as she could, to declare, “We’ll help you. What do you want us to do?”<br> “You’ll see.” Fisto said with a smile, and Elan hung his head and glared.
***