|
Post by ippo on Sept 19, 2009 0:29:04 GMT -5
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF STUPID THINGS IN LARGE NUMBERS. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Anyone who says a farmer should get work done while there is still light out doesn't know the first thing about farming on Tatooine. Two suns beating down from overhead at high noon is suicide for anyone. Most people have the sense to keep indoors around this time. The jawas keep to their salvage machines. Even the tusken raiders stick to the caves.
Out in the middle of the desert, under the cover of a modest clay rocky hill, a small white dome nestled at the base seemed to settle quietly. Outside in the open, the pumps and plugs of the moisture farm toiled reliably under the suns, pistons pumping and gears turning. Underneath the cover of his slightly-submerged home, Manu Nomarin sat relatively comfortably in a wifebeater and cloth pants, slurping down some sort of gruel. Coruscant caviar it ain't, but it's better than nothing. The lone resident of this property, the tanned thirty-year-old let his machines work outside, drawing whatever moisture from the air and collecting it in their bins. In an hour, when the heat isn't as intense, he'd head out to check if the pumps were working fine (and if any raiders or ruffians had trashed his gear; so far, nothing yet). For now, a hand rubbed the faded brown fuzz on his face, wiping it of anything caught in there. Should he shave today? Naw, it's still good.
|
|
|
Post by Cachot Maître on Sept 19, 2009 0:45:16 GMT -5
EVERYTHING'S GOT A MORAL, IF ONLY YOU CAN FIND IT. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Honestly, she hated Tatooine.
The crowds of pickpockets, stealing from each other only to end up with their own wallet in the end. The crimelords and gangsters, shooting down anyone who has the nerve to walk around in their turf with so little as their shoelaces untied. And the sun. No, make that two suns. If you thought the Empire breathing down your neck was bad, then you've never spent an afternoon in one of Tatooine's many endless deserts. It wasn't until after she managed to escape from the squadron of Sandtroopers, that she realized just why it was called the Dune Sea. Her training had helped prepare her for something like this, but, she was running out of time. The Sandtroopers were better equipped than a run away Force Sensitive, and, she had run out of water hours ago.
There, in the distance, she could see a small speck of white. Great, now she was hallucinating. Or so she thought. As she slowly trudged through the sand, silently groaning about the sweat in her shoes and on her back, she found that small white spec turn into several, larger specs. A moisture farm. The Force had smiled upon her, she thought, and she ran towards the shelter, only to stumble a bit and fall flat on her face. With sand stuck to her forehead due to the sweat, and her shirt clinging persistently to her chest, she managed to gather the strength to stand and make her way to the farm.
|
|
|
Post by ippo on Sept 19, 2009 0:59:38 GMT -5
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF STUPID THINGS IN LARGE NUMBERS. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Finishing the last of his lunch, Manu slowly pulled himself to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. Fortunately, he had enough strength in him to last him a good few more years. Hard work tends to do that. Erring on the side of caution, he decided to take a peek at the farm, make sure everything was still moving. Stepping up the paved stairs to the entrance, a head poked out the door, looking down the desert towards the farm. So far, everything was in place.
Well, most everything.
Something didn't match the scenery. It wasn't orange like the sand, and it didn't look like any piece of machinery of his. Whatever it was, it was reeling and staggering left and right before flopping into the sand. Only a person could really wobble like that--oh geez, that's a person out there!
Jumping back into his home, he threw on a shirt fast and clipped a blaster on one hip. He nabbed a bottle of his water before jumping out of the house and shuffling across the dunes to the figure. Hope this isn't an ambush, PLEASE don't let it be an ambush.
Eventually, Manu settled on top of the figure, brow furrowed. It's a girl. A dirty, messed up girl but a girl nonetheless. What in blazes is a girl doing way out here with no water and no speeder in sight? Does she have some sort of death wish? First, let's make sure she's still alive and coherent.
"Hey, you okay?"
|
|
|
Post by Cachot Maître on Sept 19, 2009 1:38:43 GMT -5
EVERYTHING'S GOT A MORAL, IF ONLY YOU CAN FIND IT. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Once again, she found herself eating sand.
Only, this time, she didn't have the strength left to stand. She had been walking for hours, and running for most of it. The Empire wanted her dead, for several good reasons. All of them though, sprung from one simple fact. She was a Force Sensitive. Which, in her opinion, was completely blown out of proportion. She didn't even know how to use the Force to do anything more than to make simple illusions. She heard stories about men in robes lifting ships with their mind. She saw a Sith strangle a Rodian from fifteen feet away. Yet she could barely lift a simple stone.
That wasn't important anymore though. Nothing was. She was going to die here, and, she had come to realize that, and embrace it. By the time the Sandtroopers got to her, she would already be dead. At least then, she'd win, and they'd loose.
"Hey, you okay?"
She blinked once, slowly and weakly. She was laying face down in the sand, and, she could have sworn she heard a voice. Probably a hallucination. This time for real. Though, she was pretty close to a moisture farm. Maybe...
In the distance, slowly fading into shape from behind the thick lines of waving heat, a speeder came into view. No, not a speeder. An Imperial Skiff, in hot pursuit of something, or someone. Upon closer inspection, Manu would be able to tell that the skiff was following the zig zaggy line that the girl left behind her, meaning, the Empire was after her.
Meaning, her fate was in his hands, twice over.
|
|
|
Post by ippo on Sept 19, 2009 1:57:28 GMT -5
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF STUPID THINGS IN LARGE NUMBERS. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This was too fortuitous. If Manu hadn't bothered to check on his farm early, this girl would've died of dehydration. With a grumble, he leaned over, forcefully pulling her to her feet, slinging an arm over his shoulder. As he turned around to get back to the shade of his home, he spotted another sight on the boiling horizon. It looked like a vehicle this time. But it was a solid grey. And that speeder was making good time--
Wait a tick.
That's no speeder. That's a skiff. Scratch that, that's an Imperial skiff. He growled in his throat. What in the Jedi's name is the Empire doing out here? Eyes trailed along the surface of the sand. The trail left by the girl was rather wide and obvious, a soul struggling to drag herself across the landscape. By the looks of it, the skiff was on the same bearing as the trail she left.
They're after the girl. Spast.
With a "hell with it" look on his face, Manu hoisted the girl over his shoulder and jogged back to his abode. Why was he doing this? Why was he aiding someone being pursued by the Empire? You know they own half the galaxy! They'll be after you too! Feet padded down the steps into the main atrium. Heading into the back, he sat her down inside a back storage closet, jamming the bottle of water in her hands and closing the door.
Feh. Like I care the Empire is bearing down on my house. What kind of business would the Empire have with a humble moisture farmer?
|
|
|
Post by Cachot Maître on Sept 19, 2009 11:52:59 GMT -5
ALL IN ALL, YOU'RE JUST ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - That damn girl.
Had it not been for her, he would have gotten that promotion years ago. But, alas, she had to meddle with Imperial affairs. Now look where she was. Lost and scared in the Dune Seas, with a squad of Stormtroopers in hot pursuit. They could have intercepted her before she even made it out of Mos Espa, but, FR-197 enjoyed seeing the runners sweat and suffer.
He was the leader of the group, and, by far one of the best trackers in the Empire. His job in FR, Force Recovery, was to find and capture any Force Sensitives and to bring them to the Empire. If they refused, or couldn't be captured, they were to be put to death for plotting against the good name of the Empire. In truth, 197 enjoyed his job. A little too much, but, that was arguable. He loved the thrill of the fight, finding someone who could crush his helmet with just a wave of their hand. He loved shooting them down before they even had the chance to test if his helmet was immune to their Force Illusions. And, it was. As were all FR Standard Issue Helmets.
Nevertheless, he quickly stopped the Skiff outside the Moisture Farm. A second set of footprints came to where a body laid, then bounded away while dragging her with him, he judged from the size of the footprints, and how deep they plunged into the sand with each step. The girl was here, that much was obvious. Only question was, who else was here with her? That didn't really matter. Anyone who got in the way of the Empire was to be gunned down for treason.
He raised his hand and made a few hand-motions, then two of the FR recruits moved into position around the doorway, leading into the massive hole that was the Moisture Farmer's home. Hoisting his gun out from it's holster and into a ready position, he nods to one recruit, and he opens fire on the console, then they kick the door down. There was no point in checking if it was unlocked. Every Stormtrooper and Sandtrooper alike entered in style.
Both recruits charged down the stairway, followed by the other six FR, then finally, 197, who walked down the steps casually. The eight lower ranked troopers took position around the base of the hole, and 197 had to duck slightly to enter, as he was nearly six foot five, a giant among white clad troopers.
"Come on out, girl. We don't want any trouble." Anyone who knew a Stormtrooper knew that was a lie. Anyone who knew a Sandtrooper, knew that was a lie. Anyone who knew a Force Recovery Unit, knew that by hearing those words, they were going to die, along with everyone around them.
He waved his hand once again, and two troopers went down both hallways to scout out the area, while the other four remained in position.
He would find her.
And he would kill her.
|
|
|
Post by ippo on Sept 19, 2009 15:15:16 GMT -5
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF STUPID THINGS IN LARGE NUMBERS. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Afternoon, sirs." Just don't say anything about the door. Anyone has to be accomodating to those working on behalf of the Empire. At least, that's what the rules are. Plenty of trandoshans and rodians get uppity at the troopers. How they get away with it, he's not sure. Regardless, Manu came out to greet the troopers like any friendly citizen would. "What can I do for the Empire?"
|
|
|
Post by Cachot Maître on Sept 19, 2009 20:39:04 GMT -5
ALL IN ALL, YOU'RE JUST ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The two troopers guarding the main entryway pointed their E-11 Blaster Rifles at Manu, fingers resting on the trigger, awaiting the order to open fire. That order never came, and, the two lowered their blasters at the signal of 197. "Step aside, civilian, or point us in the direction of the Forcer." In this era, the term Forcer was used when regarding a Force Sensitive in a negative manner.
A gloved hand went up to meet the commlink installed in his helmet, and he spoke into it. "140, report." He paused, listening to the reply, then grunted. "Keep looking. She couldn't have gotten too far." He pointed the same gloved hand at Manu, then motioned forward with his Blaster Rifle. "Where is she?" His Rifle centered at Manu's chest, and, his free hand took the barrel for support. One wrong answer, and it could be all over for the Moisture Farmer.
The other Troopers took aim.
|
|
|
Post by ippo on Sept 19, 2009 20:47:42 GMT -5
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF STUPID THINGS IN LARGE NUMBERS. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Eh?" The farmer's brow furrowed, wrinkles knitting visibly above his nose. That girl was a Force Sensitive? Well, that explains the Imperial pursuit. Sith's been cracking down on them, haven't they? Still, to a man like him, humanitarianism came first. He'd prefer she die of the heat than a bolt to the cranium from these...folks. Well, that's one way to put it in perspective.
"I dunno what you're talking about, sir," he started. "I've been living on this land by myself for thirty years. Unwed and everything. You can check the census and whatever public records you want. I'm the only person here, sir. Honest truth."
Technically, it was the truth.
|
|
|
Post by Cachot Maître on Sept 19, 2009 21:11:33 GMT -5
ALL IN ALL, YOU'RE JUST ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Then no one will be around to hear you cry for mercy while I shoot your knees off." His leveled blaster lowered slightly, taking aim at Manu's left kneecap. While he didn't doubt what the man said, and he knew it was true, there was still a missing Forcer running about, being dragged to this Moisture Farm. In the eyes under that white helmet, that was a good enough reason to be killed.
His finger pulled back on the trigger, and a bolt of red energy shot out from the barrel and flew towards Manu's knee, only to be deflected by a hiss of green energy, much like a standard blaster bolt, but, unlike a blaster bolt, the energy stayed in place without disappearing when it touched the ground. In fact, it was much longer than a blaster bolt, and, to Manu, everything seemed incredibly slow. So slow, in fact, that if he were to look up at 197, he'd find him raising his gun in slow motion, and, if he looked to his right, he'd find the girl he drug to his closet, holding a small device, which emitted a green beam.
The four troopers in the room opened fire, and the saber holding girl deflected them with ease, moving at inhuman speeds and slicing barrels and helmets in two. 197 managed to press a button on his wrist pad before dieing by a lunge to the chest. A silent swear escaped both him and the girl, and everything was black for him.
EVERYTHING'S GOT A MORAL, IF ONLY YOU CAN FIND IT. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Her head hurt. A lot.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a... storage closet? Wasn't she just in the desert, roasting to death? Oh, no, that could only mean one thing! She hopped to her feet, still a little woozy from the physical exhaustion, and pressed a hand on the button, opening the door, then bounding out into the hallway. The design was typical for a Tatooine settlement. And, lo and behold, two stormtroopers were doing an thorough search of the place. The noise from the door suddenly opening caught their attention, and they acted on instinct, opening fire upon her.
She had no choice.
Crack-hiss went the device, summoning a green blade from it's complex inner-workings. Deflecting the first bolt back at the trooper, and the second at the trooper's comrade, both went down by their own blasters. Just to be safe, she plunged her blade into each of their chests, quickly and gracefully. No way would the Empire send just two Sandtroopers after her, even if they were FR. Though, these two seemed to be recruits from their colors, and from the way they reacted to a sudden suspect.
Rushing down the hallway and deactivating her saber to avoid cutting anything, she found herself staring at a bewildering scene. A blaster bolt was fired, and she reacted solely upon instinct, activating her blade with another crack-hiss, and deflecting the bolt to strike a wall.
The rest was like a subconscious ballet. Everything moved like a bad holo-film stuck on changing frames. Her blade quickly finished the troopers, along with the squad leader. She noted the leader's final action before he died, and swore aloud, silently, but still aloud. A beacon. No doubt any other troopers in the area would be on her again, and, now the Empire knew about this farm, which meant, they would quickly be upon it like a Corellian Winter Moth to a Flame.
Still, she figured she had enough time to catch her breath, and, it wasn't until then that she realized just how tired she was. Deactivating her blade and resting both hands on each knee while bending forward, she felt like she just took a blow to the gut.
She was out of practice.
|
|
|
Post by ippo on Sept 19, 2009 21:19:51 GMT -5
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF STUPID THINGS IN LARGE NUMBERS. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ...What?
...Wait, what?
The trooper's comment had gotten a rise out of him, and he was set to sock the trooper in the jaw before taking a bolt to the kneecap. All he saw and heard was blaster fire, a crack-hiss, several flashes of green, and white bodies slumping over onto his ground. He stood, dumbfounded. That girl he'd dragged out of the heat was keeled over, as if ready to blow chunks. An odd device was in her hand. Some sorta remote or beacon or something. Nothing like he's ever seen before. Eyes wandered about, taking in the scene of bodies and scorch marks.
...What in the Emperor's name just happened?
|
|
|
Post by Cachot Maître on Sept 19, 2009 21:31:37 GMT -5
EVERYTHING'S GOT A MORAL, IF ONLY YOU CAN FIND IT. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Her gaze drifted.
She could feel her body want to just collapse and sleep. Sleep forever, and leave all this running behind her. Her mind and heart said otherwise.
Her nose twitched, then a brow raised as she turned to look at the moisture farmer. Was he...? No, impossible. What were the odds of meeting another Sensitive? Lord Avaniel would call it fate, but, she didn't believe in fate. "There's a party at Mother's," she said, eying the farmer up and down, and remaining silent afterwords, as if waiting for an answer. When no proper answer was found, she swore under her breath and threw her hands up into the air in distress.
"He doesn't even know the code!" Her exclamation was mainly to herself, but, loud enough for the farmer to hear, along with the two remaining troopers, who quickly entered the room and opened fire, only to meet the same demise as all the others, to which she panted about after killing the last two.
|
|
|
Post by ippo on Sept 19, 2009 21:48:08 GMT -5
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF STUPID THINGS IN LARGE NUMBERS. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Manu could only arch an eyebrow. First this girl shows up out of nowhere on the Dune Sea, starving of thirst. A few minutes later, she's suddenly some sort of whirling dervish with some green light or something, taking out at least six stormtroopers IN HIS HOUSE. And now she's talking cryptic phrases and codes and this and that. He rubbed his beard, shaking his head with a grunt. She was only making him more and more confused. Still, he felt entitled to asking a couple questions.
"You mind explaining what you're doing out in the middle of the desert with Stormtroopers on your tail, missy?"
|
|
|
Post by Cachot Maître on Sept 19, 2009 21:58:33 GMT -5
EVERYTHING'S GOT A MORAL, IF ONLY YOU CAN FIND IT. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Was this guy dense?
Missy?
"Seriously, you haven't figured it out yet?" She motioned towards the troopers, then left a finger pointing at the dead 197, who held a flashing red light in his hand. "FR," she motioned to the tag on his armor, "stands for Force Recovery, also known as Force Sensitive Recovery Unit. This guy, along with his recruits, are in charge with hunting down Force Sensitives like me, and you, apparently, and turning them into Sith. Or, killing them."
She pinched between her brows, then dramatically waved her hand, palm up, at the scene, motioning to all the troopers. "That's why I'm here. I'm on the run, and, so are you, unless you want an battalion of Sandtroopers knocking on your door. That is, if you're lucky. You'll probably just end up with a ODS." She blinked at him for a second. "That means Orbital Demolition Strike. Meaning, an Imperial Star destroyer will be over this planet faster than a Jawa pod-racer, opening fire all over this area."
|
|
|
Post by ippo on Sept 19, 2009 22:07:04 GMT -5
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF STUPID THINGS IN LARGE NUMBERS. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Eyes passed over to the bodies on his ground. Sure enough, they were marked FR. So these guys specialized in "capturing" Force Sensitives? Didn't know there was a division for that. But, sure enough, the big guy's arm had a flashing dot on it. His lips pursed. This was a nice home, too. And considering the door was blown out, it wouldn't be near as nice as it was. Then again the idea of stormtroopers or, Emperor forbid, a Star Destroyer coming down upon his home was--
Wait. Manu's brow furrowed again as he looked back to the girl.
"Whaddya mean, and me?"
|
|