Musing Oct 3, 2009 17:17:52 GMT -5
Post by Cachot Maître on Oct 3, 2009 17:17:52 GMT -5
AND I CAN'T TELL IF YOU'RE LAUGHING,
BETWEEN EACH SMILE THERE'S A TEAR IN YOUR EYE.
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Rain from the earlier night left the streets damp. Footsteps splashed in puddles, splattering water onto the metal walkways that gave the citizens a place to walk in the upper sections of Coruscant. Ever since the Empire gained control, more and more citizens were fleeing there, or, giving into the brainwashing.
From her hotel room, she could see it all. At least one of every species was being shoved into the massive shuttle. Criminals, in the eyes of the empire. A few of them stood out to her, as they were locals in the diner she visited at least twice a week. The empire didn't care about back-records. If you were an alien poking your nose where it didn't belong, you were shipped off to some remote planet, forced into slavery.
A knock on the door broke the silence, and she walked over to answer it. Without a moment to shriek, she was on the floor, dead, a blaster wound to the forehead.
As the trooper walked into the room, he felt himself growing dizzy. Blinking and reaching for his built-in-comm, he froze, feeling a sudden chill running up his spine. He looked down, and found himself standing in a frozen tundra. Looking back up frantically, expecting to see large glass windows, he saw only the blur of a snowstorm. He cried out as the storm consumed him, then hit the floor.
She stood at her window again, or rather, still stood there. She had never left that spot. The trooper had walked into the room after firing a blaster shot, but, not at a woman, but at thin air. He stood in place, then fell to the ground, his body cool to the touch, if anyone inspected it.
She blinked, as an Ithorian tried to break free of his confinement, but was quickly gunned down.