Star Wars: The Choice.

Character stories and events from around the galaxy

Star Wars: The Choice.

Postby Lirandel » Fri Jan 21, 2011 10:35 am

Prologue

It is interesting this thing we call life. We stumble like ants in all directions trying to get a foothold and some degree of control on our various concerns. We walk to and froh about our business, all encompassing to us in our narrow scope of self proclaimed grandeur; yet to others they exist only as small and almost feeble in size.

Take the noble lady crossing the street for example. She wears richly clad cloth, rings, baubles and makeup like she owns the damn place to begin with. She walks with a poise not seen in the local scrubber down at deck level 1179. She cares not for the next meal, a place to sleep and the next credits she has to earn to pay upkeep. No. Her concerns is in another place entirely. Concerns that some share and others laugh about knowing all too well how easy she's got it to begin with.

Then take the aforementioned scrubber. The guy reeks of radiation disease from the nearby reactor tubes, smells like a Gamorrean and is pretty much one miserable little wretch to look at.
Thin as hell since food is scarce and credits down here is nearly worthless. But the scrapper is happy, seemingly balanced and knows his station in life and everything there is to know about the layout of the deck level. When food is around it lights up his day. Whether it being a tashka vermin or another unlucky freak. Yes. The scrapper is content with the piece of morsel life threw at him.

So where is this reasoning of mine leading me?

It is simple enough.

Life is hard and people got problems. Whether it being money, heartache, sickness, morale questions or conflicts of interest. Being alive yet breathing that invisible death stick of issues, day in and day out, is the curse of mortality. But it ain't all bad. Some of us help out these people in need and make them feel better about themselves. We clear their problems hands down like they never existed and ensure some balance in their otherwise narrow minded and self inflicted grief.

...For a price


Next up: Dagger
"Boots to asses... Or Imps out the airlock." -Antora Kel - Trooper Vanguard
User avatar
Lirandel
Grumpy Old Fart
 
Posts: 719
Joined: Tue Nov 28, 2006 2:25 am
Location: Copenhagen, Denmark

Re: Star Wars: The Choice.

Postby Lirandel » Tue Jan 25, 2011 10:32 pm

Dagger

Her thick auburn hair bouncing below her shoulders, his sister worked furiously to keep Seven's whirling short vibro blades at bay. She was a slender built woman, yet with finely toned muscles gained through both training and the experience of living in the shadier part of deck level 570. His sister was no stranger to hard work.

Or this vibro blade of hers, it's white-metal pommel sculpted in the likeness of a seven pointed star, was by far the most balanced weapon she had ever swung. Still, his sister was hard pressed, indeed, seemingly overmatched, by her opponent this day. Few in sector four could match blade with Seven, her brother. Much less a blaster.

He was slightly taller than her, a dozen pounds heavier with a tight muscled frame. His brown hair and skin glistening with streaks of sweat, a testament to the young woman's prowess.

Seven's shorter vibroblades crossed in front of him, one of them buzzing and crackling with energy as they touched each others energy fields then went out wide, inviting her to thrust straight between.

She suddenly saw the outcome unfold before her, like short glimpses between breaths, she knew then and there to not make the attempt, Seven was too quick, and could strike her blade near its tip with the shorter blade, while the other alternately parried low, batting the opposite way near the hilt. With a single step diagonally to the side, following his closer parrying blade, she saw Seven would have her beaten.

His sister stepped back instead, and presented her blade in front of her. Her eyes peeked out around the blade and locked stares with her brother.

"An opportunity missed, sis?" Seven teased.

"A trap avoided," his sister was quick to reply.

Seven came ahead in a rush his daggers crossing, going wide and cutting across, one high and one low. She in return dropped her left foot behind her and fell into a crouch, turning her blade to parry the low rushing blade, dipping her head to avoid the high.

She needn't have bothered, for the cross came to soon before Seven's feet had caught up with the move, and both his blades swished through the air, short of the mark.

Again the strange sensation of seeing his intentions came again. She did not miss the opening, and darted ahead, her own blade thrusting. Back snapped Seven's blade, impossibly fast, slamming the blade on both its sides. but Seven's feet weren't positioned correctly for him to follow the move to go diagonally ahead and take advantage of his sister's turned blade.

the young woman went ahead and to the side instead, sliding her weapon free of the clinch and executing the real attack, the slash at Seven's hip.

Seven tried to turn and parry the blade up high but too late and the vibroblade sent a spark through him which in return made him make an outburst of curses as he fell to the floor with a grimace...

"Bah" he groaned rubbing his hip while looking up at her as she sheathed her vibroblade in a triumphant fashion.

"what good is a blade when your staring down the barrel of a blaster sis..."

She smiled coyly and put her hands on her hips.

"Better than that tiny dagger of yours Sev.."

Next up: Blaster
"Boots to asses... Or Imps out the airlock." -Antora Kel - Trooper Vanguard
User avatar
Lirandel
Grumpy Old Fart
 
Posts: 719
Joined: Tue Nov 28, 2006 2:25 am
Location: Copenhagen, Denmark


Return to SWTOR: The Library

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 3 guests

cron