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Post by hk47fan on Jul 3, 2007 17:44:19 GMT -4
Han
I thought for a moment, and came up with a quick answer. "Well, lets just say it galls me," I said "If Corellia wants to be independent, I'm all for it."
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Post by RedEagle on Jul 3, 2007 17:49:48 GMT -4
Aidel Saxan
"And would you be willing to say that publicly?" she asked. "In speeches to the Corellian people?"
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Post by hk47fan on Jul 3, 2007 18:08:13 GMT -4
Han
"Sure, but there's a condition." I said to her "Only if you resign as Prime Minister and Thracken as Corellian Cheif of State."
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Post by Force_Flow on Jul 7, 2007 20:00:59 GMT -4
Aidel Saxan[/i]
She couldn't keep the surprise off of her face. Her hard-earned politician skills went down the 'fresher as she blanched. Clearing her throat, she leaned foreword, hands on her knees, looking Han Solo straight in the eye in a small challenge. "Resign?" she asked him. "Why in the name of the Five Worlds would I do that, Solo? I've only had this position for a year. Surely you must agree that this is preposterous."
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Post by Alyva on Jul 8, 2007 10:46:10 GMT -4
ZekkHe knocked gently on Jaden’s door, trying to be careful not to disturb baby Tian. It was time for them to leave. SelenaShe sighed after yet another unsuccessful attempt to sleep. Standing up and trying not to wake Luke, she moved to the small kitchen area to make a cup of caffa. Closing her eyes in the darkness, Selena wondered why Rylee had decided to stay with Jaden instead of her. She hadn't seen her little girl since Leia's dinner, and it sort of ticked her off that her only daughter wanted to stay with her Master instead of her mother. Ben was staying at Jaing's, but he had every right. They were going to leave soon. And according to the chrono, Rylee, Zekk, Jaina, Jaden, and Jacen were due to report to the CorSec Hanger in thirty minutes. Selena picked up her caffa and took a long drink. That meant it was time for Luke to wake up, too. Selena quickly changed into a black jumpsuit and got her coat off of the Hanger. She hoped the Force would be with her. Moving over to the edge of the bed, she reached out and tapped Luke lightly on the arm. OOC: Sorry, but that's all I have.
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Post by RedEagle on Jul 8, 2007 13:51:21 GMT -4
Copost with me and Kylie
--
Luke Skywalker opened his eyes to Selena's touch. As her face swam into view, his eyes travelled over to the chrono on his bedside table. "0300," he said, stifling a yawn. "Time to get dressed." Sitting up, he rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes, and it was replaced by a look of calm assurance. He looked Selena up and down. "Ready for work, dear?"
"Always," Selena assured him. "Come on, get up. By this rate, Klauskin will bust a vein."
"We wouldn't want him to do that," Luke said. Stretching his arms, he stood and felt his knee pop painfully. He closed his eyes in a grimace and moved foreword to get his own black jumpsuit out of the dresser drawer. "I'm getting too old for this," he said, pulling on his outfit.
"The great Luke Skywalker, destroyer of the Death Star, leader of the Jedi, is getting too old to go out and play with the little kids and their toy starfighters?" Selena made a face and shoved her caffa cup towards him. "Drink up."
Luke took it gratefully and drained the remaining half of the cup in two gulps. Setting it on the dresser, he took both his and Selena's lightsabers off of the shelf above their bed. He handed her hers. "The great Luke Skywalker ages like most men," he said.
"I seem to remember you telling me about a great Jedi Master named Jolee," Selena said. "He was eighty, and he could function a lot better than men half his age."
"Well..."
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Post by Force_Flow on Jul 8, 2007 21:40:17 GMT -4
Jaina felt Zekk's presence before he even knocked. Sending a gentle sleeping suggestion into Tian's mind, she watched her cloudy blue eyes droop and finally close, and her brainwaves smoothed out as she slipped gently into the cumbersome darkness that was sleep. Jaina stood up and made her way back to the living room.
Jaden had let Zekk in and Jaina gave him a friendly hug. Rylee, undercover, looked like a female Kiffar. Jaden had somehow made a fake (but still very realistic) orange facial tattoo in the shape of a crescent moon on the right side of her face. Complete with a red braid, hair extensions, and three piercings on one ear, Rylee was the image of a female Han Solo.
Jaden was favoring the look she had bore when she had infiltrated Krayn's spice smuggling operation, with the dyed blond hair pulled up in a spiky ponytail. She wore an orange leather sleeveless shirt which showed off her stomach, and, Jaina mused, draw attention to her upper torso instead of her face. She wore green flight goggles around her neck, and very short shorts that would probably have her freezing on the ride to Corellia. The shorts criss-crossed with a belt, and she wore a blaster on her hip, like a sensible human being.
Jaina took a look of herself in the mirror and grimaced. She was dressed in a fashion that would have let her fit in with her father's old friends—tight-fitting trousers and vest of black bantha leather, a red silk shirt with flowing sleeves and a matching hair scarf. Half her face bore an artificial tattoo, a red flower on her cheek with green leafy tendrils spreading across her jaw and up to her forehead, and her hair was blond, a temporary dye job.
Zekk, who was looking around the room, wore a preposterous tan jacket of fringed leather. Beneath it was a bandolier holding eight vibroblades. Two false scars marked his face, one a horizontal gash across his forehead, the other down from the forehead to the right cheek; an eye patch with blinking red diode covered that eye.
Jaina decided that they all looked pretty tough.
“Are we ready?” she asked crisply. “The ship’s leaving at six. That’s in—“
“Three hours,” Jaden announced. “Just enough to check in with the boss people and take the separate transports to Corellia. Remember, Jaina: You, Zekk, Robert, and the Faleen get Saxan. Rylee, me, and Jacen tag Sal-Solo.”
“It doesn’t feel right to take these guys as hostages,” Rylee confessed. Her brow furrowed with worry. “Wouldn’t that start a war?”
“They won’t know we’re Jedi,” Jaina assured her. “And we’re going to let them go right before Uncle Luke and Selena leave.”
“That’s why we’re disguised?”
Jaina shrugged. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”
“You’re using sarcasm,” Rylee said dryly.
“Good, you’re learning.”
Rylee crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. As both Jaina and Rylee got into a debate, Jaden watched them, remembering a time when Rylee was seven-years-old, a child-abused kid whose powers scared her. Beaten by her Uncle for using her talent, kicked and shoved by the other kids so they could cover up their own fear, threats to be sold to the highest bidder if she didn’t do as her parents wished. They had feared her. Her Uncle had feared her. She slept in a closet, and Jaden had found her levitating a rock in small wetlands, far away from her home when she was supposed to be buying bread. They had become friends, best friends. Then the Vong had come, and they had made Rylee contact Jaden to come and rescue her. Jaden had protected Rylee until the end, Force Pushing her into the cockpit and hitting Auto-Drive to the Jedi hideout on Slussii. Jaden had paid the price for helping.
Now, Jaden couldn’t help but remember that that was exactly how her mother had died: trying to help.
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Post by Alyva on Jul 9, 2007 9:20:35 GMT -4
Zekk
His gaze travelled to Jaden. Her face wasn't tense, and she was staring straight ahead, looking past Jaina and Rylee. He didn't need the Force to figure out who she was thinking about. Stepping closer, he stood beside her. "You're thinking about her again." Jaden gave him a look of surprise. "Shalin."
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Post by butter on Jul 9, 2007 12:25:15 GMT -4
In the foremost passenger seat, Wedge sat up, startled, as his shuttle came in for its landing and a familiar-looking Coregllian YT-1300 leapt up past his viewport, headed for the skies. "That," he announced, "was the Millennium Falcon."
"If you say so, sir." Across the aisle between seats, Captain Barthis looked dubious. "There are thousands of those old Corellian transports still flying, though."
"Oh, that was definitely the Falcon," Wedge said knowlingly. "I'm intimately familiar with her lines... and her rust spots. I had to replicate them once on a decoy vehicle, decades ago. No matter what Han does, paint the hull, anodize it, those rust patches come back after a few months or years."
Captain Barthis cocked her head, a whatever-you-say gesture that left no doubt in Wedge's mind that she was merely humoring him, and returned her attention to her datapad. Wedge glanced thoughtfully toward the viewport again, smiling slightly. He knew that it had been the Falcon, and that was all that mattered. It didn't matter what Barthis thought.
Half an hour later the two of them, itch, and a droid porter swept into the government facility Barthis had said would be Wedge's home for the next several days at least. It was deep within a gray pyramidal building at the edge of what had once been the Imperial government district. The dark corridor from the turbolifts led into a large outer office laid out in rows of monitering stations; most of the stations were empty, their viewscreens unlit, but Wedge could see two that were active, both showing holocam views of long rooms with dormitory-style accommodations for four at one end and the office equipment at the other.
Barthis led Wedge and the others to a door, which whooshed upward and thumped into place with the speed, air displacement, and echoing sound of an armored portal. The chamer's overhead lights flickered on as they entered, revealing a room very much like those shown on the monitors: closest to the door were four desks, facing one another, laden with computer material; the far side of the room held four bunk beds and oversized equipment lockers. Wedge could also see a door that he presumed led into a refresher.
The porter droid beeped softly, then moved in to drop Wedge's bads on the nearest of the bunk bed. Barthis and Titch stayed near the door and gestured at the accomodations. "A bit plain," Barthis admitted. "I'm sorry."
Wedge shrugged. "They're luxurious compared to some of the places I've been quartered," he said. He then glanced over the computer equipment, noting brand names and designs. "These terminals have to be thirty years old," he remarked.
Barthis nodded. "Almost. This facility was installed by Intelligence just after the New Republic conquered Coruscant and drove the Ysanne Isard into exile. The equipment is original... but it has been serviced and upgraded."
Wedge glanced around again, taking in the sights of the room around him, and glanced over the equipment again. Then he turned back to Barthis and asked, "What's the facility for?"
Titch answered. "It was what we called a pressure cooker. The idea is that in times of crisis, you get teams of civilian coders, technicians, and specialists together in combined living and work quarters. Theyr'e the sort of people who are going to be working sixteen, twenty hours a day anyway. More convenient for them to be packed in together, exchanging ideas, keeping one another's spirits up, and so fourth, rather than in separate offices ad with quarters minutes' or hours' travel time away."
"Ah," Wedge said, nodding. He grabbed the rolling chair before the nearest desk, swung it around, and sat down. "So. You wouldn't tell me on Corellia, you wouldn't tell me on the shuttle trip--now, in the heart of our own secure facility, maybe you can tell me what this is all about? What am I supposed to be doing?"
Barthis and Titch exchanged a look. THeir faces remained impassive, but Wedge read it as a here-we-go exchange. barthis returned her attention to Wedge. "Just, um, waiting, General."
Wedge blinked. "Waiting for orders?"
"No," Barthis said with a soft sigh, looking regretful. She waed for the porter droid to leave the chamber, which it did. Wedge noticed that, though his posture seemed relaxed, Titch was ready for action, and had positioned himself in the doorway so that he could draw the blaster at his hip and fire without endangering Barthis.
"No," Barthis conitnued, "you have no orders. Our orders are to keep you comfortable as possibel during your stay here."
Wedge refused to allow the alarm that was beginning to well up within him show on his face. "The duration of my stay?" he asked quietly.
"Unknown," Barthis shrugged.
"It's purpose?"
"Can't say."
Wedge closed his eyes and officered up a slow, silent sigh. Then he looked at the two of them again. "I said no, you know."
They looked confused.
"When the officers of the Corellian military came to me and said, 'There could be trouble between us and the GA', I saw, 'Sorry, fellows, I'm retired. You can get advice as useful as mine, and much more up to date, by looking at other Corellian officers.' And so they left me alone. Why didn't you?"
Barthis opened her mouth, evidently realized that she could offer no answer without somehow compromising her orders, and closed it again.
"Because, you see..." And this time Wedge couldn't quite keep the pain he was feeling from being reflected in his voice, as a hoarseness he could not control. "You see, that way I'd be with my family if something happened. And now, someone, somewhere, at the GA end of things has decided I need to be out of the way for what's going to happen. And has seperated me from my family. He fixed Barthis and Titch with his stare.
Barthis actually leaned back. She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said--not an admission that she or her team was doing what Wedge was speculating, but her voice carried emotions, and it sounded genuine. She turned away and walked into the outer office.
Titch seemed unaffected. "You approach this door anytime its open, it closes," he said. "Meaning it won't do you any good to make a sudden dash for the door when we bring you food or drink. Besides, if you do make an attempt to escape, I get to kill you." He patted the blaster pistol at his side. "This model can be set to stun or burn. I always leave it on burn." He nodded at though he thought the gravity of that action would impress Wedge.
He also glanced after his partner, apparently making sure she was out of earshot. Then he turned back to Wedge. "Let me add this," he said. "I'm sick of hearing the Rebel Alliance generation brag about how they stomped the Empire and then whine about how the galaxy owes them a living, or special favors. The Empire would have kicked the Yuuzhan Vong in the teeth, and I wouldn't haev lost everyone I knew when I was a kid, if you hadn't 'won'. Well, the higher-ups seem to think they ouw you a little dignity, so here it is. Ear your meals, get some quiet exercise, keep your mouth shut, and when all the shouting's done, you can go home and finish your self-serving memiors about how you single -handedly won half a dozen wars. That's the deal. Got it?"
Wedge studied him. "If you'd been a little smarter, I might have left you some shred of a careere when I leave here. But I won't. You'll be cleaning refreshers for the rest of your life."
Titch snorted, unimpressed. He backed out of the doorway, and the door slid shut.
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Post by tallboydave on Jul 9, 2007 13:50:18 GMT -4
John
I looked over to my wife as she engaged her lightsabre and set it to stun. The tension in the air of late was palpable, and so I'd suggested that Mara and I work it out with a spot of sparring, something she'd agreed to quickly. I raised my vibro-blade into the guard pose and nodded.
"Let's dance, my sweet..."
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