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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 04/15/2010 8:49 PM

Well, she was certainly back a lot sooner than she’d expected. Here she was again, hunkered down in yet another small, unsavory part of the city, this one perhaps even seedier than the last. At this rate, she figured she might as well find herself a residence here and call it home, what with the unusually frequent visitations she was making to this district (if it could be called that) within the past day alone. As for the reason why she was back so soon? Of course, it was all thanks to her latest target, the infamous ARC who’d apparently gone rogue. He certainly knew his stuff…and how to give a person a proper run-around too. Astraea had to give him props for that one, for being able to evade her for this long…not to mention making flashy exits. And she’d been so convinced that she’d had him pinned too. Well, he was more capable than she'd been giving him credit for, that was for sure. She replayed the recent events in her mind, pondering on it momentarily: so, the man didn’t work alone after all. There was no way she was going to believe that the speeder waiting under the walkway had just happened to be there at exactly the right time and right place to whisk him off to safety. She’d have to keep that in mind next time she made her move; there was no way of knowing how many others there might possibly be at his beck and call.

When he had made his hasty getaway, Sole could have potentially thrown her off his trail for the next day or two; precious time to a bounty hunter. It seemed that luck had not completely abandoned her that day though – as the speeder sped away, she’d chanced a long shot with a tracking device, and to her mild surprise, it had apparently caught on and remained undetected, judging by the speed and direction the dot on her screen had been moving. Now, at least she had the advantage of knowing exactly where he was and could use that to her benefit. She’d given it an hour or two, well after the dot had ceased to speed along at a breakneck pace. Taking this as her cue to get moving once more, she’d tracked him to this shady corner of Coruscant, a place where all the buildings looked decrepit, crumbling, and ready to collapse at the slightest disturbance.

Astraea had prowled the streets searching and staying well out of sight of any passerby (a rarity) or someone who just might happen to be peering out their window at that time. The signal had finally led her to a nondescript building, which looked no different from any of those surrounding it. She’d watched it silently for a long, uneventful while. After all, there was the chance that the tracker had attached to the speeder, or had been removed between then and now. Her patience was rewarded though, when she finally caught a glimpse of him in the building.  Assured that she was in the right place, she snuck into the building across the street via a shady, half-hidden back entrance, making sure to cover her tracks and that no one saw her enter. Luckily, the place was vacant; it was a run-down, ramshackle building, and Astraea was half afraid that she’d step on a crack and the whole thing would come down around her. Finding a room that faced the street, she left Syria at the door to watch her back while she situated herself at a narrow fault which was just wide enough to see through…and wedge the muzzle of a gun into. She’d decided to grab it on her way over to ‘aid her’ in speeding up this operation. The difference though, was in her choice of ammunition. Instead of rounds or bolts, her weapon was loaded with tranquilizer darts, potent enough to take down a large person within a few minutes, tops. It generally wasn't her style to use weapons, but then again, this wasn't just any ordinary target either. She’d been sitting here at least half an hour now, unmoving, waiting for just the right opportunity. For once, she was glad that the people here, for the most part, kept their shutters tightly closed, since it blocked out nearly all the light to the room she occupied, making it dark enough so that she was invisible to any people outside. It was time to wrap up this game of cat-and-mouse.
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 04/16/2010 1:13 AM

The small building complex was adequate at best, and completely rundown at worst. Sole had to be extra careful not to step on any cracks for fear of crashing through the floor. He hated having to tiptoe around his own ‘home,’ but then, this wasn’t exactly home, now, was it? He liked top consider it more of a ‘temporary base of operations’ to be completely honest. Of course, operations were very…limited, since he wasn’t exactly doing anything but sitting and waiting…literally. He now sat on a very rusted out chair which, if he might add, had absolutely no lumbar support whatsoever, watching as very small screen attached to his wrist. A tiny, invisible comlink was shoved into the back of his ear, and Sole was still getting used to being able to ‘think’ his intel back to his partner instead of saying it aloud; handy devices those comlink.

He sat back, one arm folded loosely across his belly. He’d foregone his jacket, and was now clad in only a pair of dark brown pants, black boots, and the top half of his skin-tight black jumpsuit; another remarkable invention. It literally went with everything. While Sole sat and mused on his ‘TV show’ he was currently watching via remote comlink, a voice crackled in his ear. “Twenty-two hundred, Captain.” It was the voice of his sergeant, Recoil, a man who’s squad had taken a heavy blow. They were still recuperating after being hit so hard, and Sole had taken the man under his wing, using him for this special mission; Recoil seemed to be able to tune out his newfound pain by concentrating entirely on the task at hand. He was currently situated outside the apartment; he‘d been observing Astraea as she observed Sole.

“She’s been here for a while. Snuck into the building about an hour ago. I’ve got a lock on her heat signature; 15 meters to your right. She’s carrying some sort of weapon; sensors indicate it isn’t lethal. Probably a tranq gun or something. But don’t get comfortable.” Sole smiled lightly, his eyes still on his screen, as if the show he was watching was absolutely hilarious…to and ARC, a small smile meant they were enjoying themselves. He chuckled, and leaned further back into the uncomfortable chair. His back still ached, and the chair was not helping. ‘Got it, Recoil. Thanks for that. Standby. If things go south, I want you to stay out of it. We can’t blow this mission. If she somehow manages to miraculously kill me, it’s going to be your job to take over. Understood?’ He could hear the click of his fellow Clone’s teeth, the sharply inhaled breath at the word ‘killed’ and then a smooth, gentle, exhale. “Understood, sir. Recoil, out.”

Sole simply nodded, as if agreeing with the show on his comlink, before heaving a heavy sigh, and standing up. He extended his broad arms over his head, hearing his back crack as he stretched luxuriously, rolling his shoulders. “Oh man, I’m exhausted,” he yawned, before walking carefully across the floor and settling on his bed. He sat upright, back placed against the wall and one arm folded across his chest. His other arm lay limp at his side, though it was rest on a concealed handgun, something Astraea would not be able to see even if she looked hard. The small lamp in the corner was still on as Sole tucked his chin into his chest and closed his eyes; time to see just what she was up to.

[9]

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 04/16/2010 10:41 PM

Right about now, Astraea was pretty thankful for her own patience; being able to squat in a less-than-comfortable position for almost an hour, simply staring through a crack in the wall, took a certain kind of skill. This though, felt like watching paint dry as she waited for Sole to move into her range, which he seemed to be disinclined to do, judging by how closely he was watching the little panel on his wrist. She swore she could feel her calves cramping from misuse, but ignored their protests, knowing full well that she might come to regret that decision later. Right now though, her priority was to ‘neutralize’ her target, and to do that required concentration, if she didn’t want to give herself away before she’d had a chance to make her move.

One thing in particular that struck her was the fact that he seemed a lot more relaxed than she would have expected a hunted man to be. His indifference towards any possible pursuers seemed to imply either a reckless stupidity or cockiness beyond measure. Either way, it made her a little concerned; to be this careless seemed…out of character for someone like him. For all she knew, this could very well be a trap set up for her, but she was determined to see it, whatever went down, through. Her finger rested lightly on the trigger of her gun in quiet anticipation, just waiting for the chance to take her target down. Despite her apparent boredom, Astraea was comparatively on edge, ready for anything that might possibly jeopardize her health or her task at hand. Everything seemed to be quiet though (almost unnaturally so, especially for this part of town), although if anything, that only served to make her even more wary of her surroundings.

Finally, her patience paid off, and as she’d hoped, Sole rose from his seat, stretching and making an undirected comment about his tiredness before wandering over to the bed, which, luckily, was within a clear shot from where she stood. Oh, you have no idea, my friend, she thought as she trained her sights on him. As soon as he had settled, she waited another moment or two to be sure that he wasn’t going to move again, then, taking aim for his neck (her goal was to get as close to the jugular as possible without actually puncturing his trachea), squeezed the trigger. There was a barely-visible flash of reflected light on the feathered dart as it shot towards its destination; that was what she loved about these guns – they were silent, and had almost no recoil when fired.

As soon as she’d taken her shot, she pulled away from her ‘window’, pressing herself against the wall just next to it to avoid a lucky counter-attack that might hit her on an off-chance. She didn’t wait around to see where the shot landed; she had no doubt that her aim was good enough so that it had at least hit somewhere in the vicinity of what she’d been targeting. A second or two later and she was back out the door again, Syria at her heels as she slipped silently down the dark hallway towards the adjacent room she’d just been observing. “Stay sharp, sweetheart,” she murmured at a nearly inaudible whisper to her companion, who blinked back up at her with golden eyes that glowed in the darkness. “Where there’s one rat, there’s bound to be more nearby.” Upon reaching the door which led to Sole’s ‘quarters’, Astraea paused, listening closely for any clues as to the situation inside.
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 04/18/2010 5:25 PM

Sole had expected to be shot with one of those tranquilizers. The silent ’whoosh’ of air that expelled from the muzzle of the gun was  hard to miss. He had a split second to see the projectile coming towards him, and just barely moved his head to the side. It grazed his flesh, and his hissed as he felt it stick lightly into the side of his neck. His arm shot up and he tore it from his skin, growling slightly as he tossed it across the room. It hit the far wall with a clatter of metal and bounced across the dusty, cracked floor. Sole hauled himself up off the bed, one hand to the wound on his neck. He’d moved his head far enough tot eh side that the tranq had not only created a large gash, but had somehow been able to inject only a small amount of it’s contents into his bloodstream.

It didn’t mean it wasn’t working; as fit and as well-trained as Sole was, he couldn’t exactly stand up to the sedation drugs now pumping through his system. It wasn’t enough to knock him out; no, he was far too large for such a small amount to affect him greatly. However, it was enough to make him slightly dizzy, and he stumbled a little as he rose to his feet. Shaking his head, Sole kept himself upright by using the rust post on the bed. He held the blaster in his hand, one hand reaching up to press against the bleeding gash across his neck. He focused on keeping his breathing steady, closing his eyes and calming his body.

During training, ARCs were taught to resist all kinds of things, from Jedi mind influence, to some of the most potent ‘deadly’ drugs on the market. The best way to build up a resistance to these, of course, was to test them outright on the subjects. Sole had seen men die during these types of training exercises, but death was a common staple in the life of an ARC, so he thought little of it, and went on with his training regime as instructed. He had been one of the ones to stand up well to this kind of thing, thus the reason the drugs in the tranquilizer didn’t affect him as greatly as they should have.

Sole kept his eyes closed as he tried to keep himself calm and keep his world from spinning wildly; he could hear footsteps just outside the door, and he was fairly certain he knew exactly who it was. With a deep breath, he opened his eyes, and then sat down on the bed, hearing the bedsprings creak as if someone were crawling across it. With his booted feet, he stomped hard enough on the floor to make it seem as though someone had crawled across the bed and slumped onto the floor, unconscious. He’d see how smart she was after this as he trained the blaster on the door, holding it at eye level with a slightly wobbly hand.

[10]

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 04/18/2010 7:43 PM

Astraea heard the tell-tale clink and roll of a metal dart being thrown across a room as she padded along the corridor in the otherwise silent building. She smirked lightly, if nothing else, at least it meant that her quarry was aware of her presence now, if he hadn’t before. Well, in that case, he’d be expecting her visit then, wouldn’t he? If he was awake, that was. She was quite certain that her shot would have made its mark, but there was always the off-chance that she’d somehow missed, or that Sole has managed to evade the dart. She decided to go with the worst-case scenario, just in case misfortune had it in for her tonight. It never hurt to be too careful, after all.

Stopping at the door, she waited, listening for any sounds from within, and was soon rewarded with a drawn-out groan of rusty old bedsprings, followed by a heavy thud of something hard hitting the floor. Astraea remained silent for another moment or two, but heard no other noises from within the room. If things had gone the way she had hoped that they would, then her target was now out cold on the floor. If not, well, her ways of finding that out were limited. She thought for a moment, then silently dropped to the floor, peering under the door through the crack that it provided. Luckily, the lamp that had been on was still giving off its harsh, yellow glow, and from the dim lighting, she could just make out his boots and part of his legs, and judging by their positioning, he was sitting directly across from the door on the bed, presumably waiting for her arrival. Clever boy, she thought to herself, mentally smirking. So, perhaps her original plan wasn’t going to work out so well after all.

Well, now was as a bad a time as any to come up with a Plan B, wasn’t it? She considered her options; there weren’t all too many. After all, there was only one door into and out of the room, and either she’d have to go in that way…or not at all. Being her though, giving up was never an option, and the extra challenge only served to make this all the more fun. Any kind of action beat squatting around for an hour, doing nothing. Astraea could safely assume that the man waiting for her on the other side of the door was armed in some way, and simply waiting for her to present herself as a target before giving her what for. She, on the other hand, held only the tranq gun that she’d just used on him; after all, having a couple extra shots of tranquilizer on hand couldn’t hurt, plus, if all else failed, it wouldn’t make for a bad bat either. Astraea was now highly doubtful that the man’s actual goal was to kill her; she was pretty sure she would have known if he earnestly meant to do her any lasting harm. Now was the time to put that little theory of her to the test. Placing a foot against the wood, she wrenched the knob open with a hand and forcefully slammed the door open hard enough to break the nose of anyone who might have been unfortunately enough to be standing behind it. As soon as she had though, she darted back around the corner of the frame, just quick enough to avoid being hit by a flying projectile, a shot, a punch, or whatever else might be waiting in store.
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 04/18/2010 9:06 PM

The silence was relatively unnerving. Sole kept his eyes fixated on the door, his hand shaking slightly from the effects of the tranquilizers. He did not, however, lower his weapon. He kept it firmly trained in place, brows furrowing as he shook his head to keep the dizziness away. He could hear scuffling just outside the door, even though he had a feeling the woman was well aware that he knew she was there. She was making no effort to hide herself any longer; they both knew about the other, and it was now that they arrived at a stale mate. Who would make the first move? Sole imagined it would not be him, and for a few reasons. One was that he was fighting the waves of dizziness and exhaustion that had begun to creep over him after the drugs within the dart had begun to take affect, and the second was that because he was not stupid.

He knew she had that armored cat with her; after all, if it had gone on one hunt, it was sure to be on the next. He also knew she was probably armed, unless of course, she was over-confident, and in that case, a messy hunter. But as far as Sole had seen, she wasn’t. There was always the off-chance that she was having an off night. Considering she’d already half-missed her target, he’d have to say she was at least having a small run of bad luck. Maybe he could help make it a little worse. When the door slammed open, Sole had not exactly been expecting it; he jumped slightly, though his gaze and his aim did not waver. She wasn’t there, and he could only assume she’d darted back behind the door frame.

He sighed; he wasn’t about to let her use that frame as a barricade. Leaping to his feet, he overturned the heavy, metal table near the corner of the room and jumped behind it; if it was a stand-off she wanted, it would be a stand-off she got. He lowered himself behind his barricade, placing the muzzle of his blaster just on the edge, facing the door, and peeked over the top. “Might as well show yourself and make it easier on me, sweetheart. I know your there. What’s with the funny little darts, hm? Decided you didn’t like the whole ‘I run, you chase me’ shtick? And here I was enjoying our game…Silly me.”

He smirked slightly; he had enjoyed their game. This was quite a lot of fun for someone who was constantly stuck behind a desk while his brothers were out getting all the action on the battlefield. But he supposed if he had to end it this soon, then he most certainly would. He wasn’t about to risk his life for a little ‘fun.’ He hissed slightly and brought his hand up to his neck, feeling the blood dribbling down on his jacket. Great, now he could add one more problem to the already exponentially growing equation. Just what he needed.

[11]

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 04/19/2010 12:29 AM

The first thing that struck her when the door slammed open was the warm, metallic scent of blood, almost overwhelmingly powerful to her sensitive nose, geared towards sensing the presence of the rich, life-sustaining liquid. The smell provided a potent temptation, and for some reason, Sole’s blood was particularly tantalizing to her, and Astraea had to fight the urge to make a beeline for it and throw all other concerns out the window. Her piercingly blue eyes had darkened perceivably by a few shades as the more blood-lusting side of her bubbled to the surface, instinct threatening to overtake her actions. A short, soft growl issued from deep in her throat as she shook her head, trying to curb the part of herself which craved nothing more than to drain every last drop of blood from his veins. If anything, the surfacing of the ‘hunter’ in her only served to make her an even deadlier pursuer, as she had a tendency of reacting on a predator’s instinct instead of her usual, rationally thought-out actions.

Trying hard not to breathe, Astraea managed to regain at least a semblance of control over her thoughts, although her hold on her own mind was rather precarious. Nonetheless, she had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let the vampiric part of her get the better of her or interfere with her mission. Now was as bad a time as any to figure out whether or not he truly meant to kill her. After taking a moment to compose herself, she settled upon doing exactly what Sole would have expected her not to do…and calmly stepped out from behind the door frame, her dark, smoldering gaze coming to rest on his as she regarded him mildly, seemingly completely unperturbed by the fact that he had a gun trained on her. “Of course you know I’m here,” she said infuriatingly patiently, as if speaking to a young child who had a problem with understanding the simplest of concepts. “After all, you don’t expect a door to go about exploding open or darts flying around for no reason, do you?” The serenity of her voice gave no indication of the turmoil of conflicting desires raging in her mind, each fighting to gain the upper hand over the other.

Astraea’s gaze flicked down to the gun in his hand for a brief moment, regarding it with something close to disdain. “I’d prefer if you wouldn’t use that,” she said somewhat condescendingly, gesturing at the weapon with a jerk of the head. “Really, it’d only be an inconvenience…and we all know I hate inconveniences.” The strange thing was, she didn’t sound afraid at all, only mildly contemptuous as she spoke, as if she were debating a matter of little import with Sole instead of the fact that it was her life or death on the line. Her nonchalant aquamarine gaze glinted with the unspoken lust for blood that darkened her eyes with a more sinister veil, dangerously close to overwhelming all rational, logical thought, and unleashing the monster which slumbered inside the body of the seemingly innocent young woman.
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 04/23/2010 3:52 PM

The silence would have been unnerving for anyone but Sole. As it was, he watched the door frame carefully, through a haze of dizziness, one hand pressed firmly against his neck to staunch the flow of blood. Those darts had a nasty bite, and they were sharp, too.  He watched, and he waited, wondering what exactly she planned to do next. What he expected, and what was, however, were most definitely not one and the same. He had to fight hard to keep the shock from showing on his face when she calmly stepped from behind the doorframe. Was she stupid, or did she just have a death wish? He couldn’t rationalize either answer, so he just decided to call her ‘insane.’ And he thought the Nulls were crazy…this was a whole new level of insanity.

He didn’t lower his blaster, didn’t wave in his gaze or his aim. He simply stared at her, curiosity nearly getting the better of him. “Well,” he said as calmly ass she had. “In my line or work, doors do sometimes exploding open unexpectedly. But I have to say, the darts are a new one for me.” He snorted, kneeling carefully behind the table and making sure he presented no clear target. His eyes roved over her; she had no weapons on her at all, and there was no way she could conceal one without him knowing; her clothing left no room for the imagination. “Yes, well, inconvenience or not…I’m afraid I have to end this now. No point in dragging out the inevitable, right?”

He honestly felt a bit bad about killing a woman, but in his line of work, there was no distinction between gender when it came to enemies. Anyone could kill you; it was just a matter of who and when. Sole lined up his sights, though it was considerably difficult, considering his mind and gaze were becoming a bit foggy. His finger squeezed the trigger, and the blaster let loose a bolt of blue light., that sped directly towards the woman, before it made contact in the dead center of her chest. Sole silently stared, watching as the shirt burned where the blaster had hit, and the smell of an discharged round filled the air. That was one problem taken care of. He supposed now was the time to head back to base; he could report in that he’d neutralize the threat. He kept his blaster trained on her, however, as he rose from behind the table…just in case.

[12]

((Permission given by Flameh for the post. ^^))

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 04/25/2010 10:34 PM

Blue eyes rested evenly on what little of Sole she could see from behind his makeshift barricade, waiting patiently to see what his next move would be. She knew that she’d already been able to throw him off-kilter…now it was just a matter of finishing what she’d started. After all, she still had the element of surprise on her side, and she was planning on making the best use of it possible. Piercing aquamarine eyes were fixed on his with a look that was both taunting and challenging, as if daring him to pull the trigger. In truth, she didn’t know whether he actually had it in him to shoot her, but there was only one way to find out for sure, and she was about to find out the hard way.

At his words, her only response was to arch one single, eloquent eyebrow – a tiny, mocking gesture, but one that seemed to speak volumes. “And here I thought you were having fun,” she replied, the irony evident in her voice as she spoke. She still remained as composed as ever though, lounging casually within range; all things considered, she was pretty much a sitting duck, an easy target simply asking to be shot at. So, it seemed that he was beginning to grow tired of this little ‘game’ of his as well. Well, whatever he chose to do within the next moment or two would decide how the rest of the scenario played out, and Astraea was prepared for whatever trick he decided to toss at her next.

Despite the fact that she had taken the possibility of Sole actually trying to kill her into account, she was still mildly surprised when he actually did. Well, maybe he was more gutsy than she gave him credit for. There was only a fraction of a second’s time between the twitch of his finger on the trigger and a very abrupt, untimely death. Her gaze flicked down to the blaster just in time to see him pull the trigger, and even despite her inhuman abilities, she knew that she couldn’t avoid being hit. She braced herself, shifting ever so slightly, before the bolt of blue energy seared through cloth, skin, muscle, and bone alike, indiscriminately burning everything that stood in its path. With a pained grimace, Astraea doubled over slightly, one hand splayed over the wound which now mixed the thick, cloying scent of Sole’s blood in the air with her own. Once over the initial blast of pain, the young woman regarded the still-smoking hole in her shirt and the blossom of dark red which now sluggishly bloomed around it with something akin to irritated distaste. She was lucky; she’d managed to move just enough so that the shot had hit the dead center of her chest, impacting with her sternum and narrowly avoiding the vital organs nearby. That would have been a real problem on her hands.

Although the shot was more than enough to put an end to any other person, Astraea, instead, merely glanced up at her would-be killer, exasperation glittering in her sapphire eyes. Momentarily, her own thirst was forgotten in that brief moment of agony, replaced by annoyance. “Which part of not using the blaster did you not comprehend?” she growled, glaring dead-on at the culprit. “Not only does it hurt like you have no idea…you’ve gone and ruined my shirt as well.” If they didn’t know better, a person could easily have mistaken her grumbling to have been caused by something trivial; not a blaster bolt through the center of the chest. What most people didn’t know was that one of the side-effects of being of the blood-sucking persuasion (at least, for Astraea) was that her body had the capability of healing at an accelerated pace. Already, the flesh was knitting itself back together, and within a minute or so, it would be as if she’d never been shot at all. A handy little trick to have up her sleeve at times like these, no doubt.

Without any warning or indication of her intentions, Astraea suddenly took off, shooting across the room at an unprecedented pace towards Sole, taking advantage of the fact that no person could have expected her to launch an offence in her current condition. Vaulting up and clear over the overturned table, she drove an elbow towards him, slamming it mercilessly into the back of his head, momentarily ignoring the numbing jarring that her arm had just received. Whirling before he could retaliate, she ‘helped’ him to the ground with a heel to the small of his back, pinning him to the floor with a knee on his spine. She’d given up trying to keep her unnatural speed under wraps; right now, taking her target down before he had the chance to do the same to her was key. The fact that the tranquilizer was working what little effect it had probably helped too, although she’d have to keep in mind that next time, it might not be her best strategy.
       
Producing a loose coil of what looked like metal wire – strong enough to withstand most elements, yet light and thin enough to be transported easily – she made quick work of binding Sole’s hands behind his back, making sure that they were immobile against the small of his back, and lashing his ankles together. The knots were tight, on the brink of breaking skin. After all, Astraea could afford no more mistakes or careless underestimations of her opponent. He’d already proven more than once that, like her, there was a lot more to him than met the eye. “Yes indeed…no point in delaying the inevitable at all,” she commented off-handedly as she checked the last knot, although in reality, she was relieved that this wild goose chase was finally over. She and Syria could both use a break from work for a little while; they’d earned themselves at least that much.


{Permission to PP the living daylights outta the post given by Millie. xD}
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 04/29/2010 8:46 PM

When Sole shot someone, especially at point blank range, he usually expected them to keel over and die right away. Well, she certainly hadn’t keeled over, and she  most certainly wasn’t dead. Despite the grogginess overpowering his vision, he was certain that what he was seeing was not some drug induced hallucination; she really was standing there, with a gaping hole in her chest, and she was still…alive. To say Sole was shocked might have been a huge understatement; he was absolutely flabbergasted. All he could do was gape, and stare, waiting for her to fall over or pass out or heck, even sit on the floor. But she just stood there, doubled over as if he’d punched her hard in the stomach. “By the Manda…” he murmured, his eyes wide as he stared at the seemingly invincible woman.

There must’ve been some crazy kind of drug in that tranquilizer, because now he imagined her flesh was already knitting itself back together. He blinked hard. No, it…it was knitting itself back together! It was healing! Sole had only a moment to mull over this new development, before he was slammed backwards by an elbow to the head. His vision went white, and he literally saw stars behind his eyes as his head cracked violently forward. He didn’t even have time to blink before a palm slammed into the small of his back and sent him colliding with the hard wood of the floor. He hissed, the breath knocked out of him as a knee perched on his mid-back. He felt his arms being rent behind him, and then lashed with something strong and hard, his ankles suffering the same fate only a moment later. Sole was…stunned.

Despite the grogginess and spots behind his eyes, he shouldn’t have been caught like this. He was an ARC; he didn’t fail. He tugged on the binding, and was rewarded with a slicing pain in his wrists; tight enough to break the skin if he moved too much. A low growl rumbled in his chest, but he was too tired to do much but roll over and stare hazily up at the woman above him. He heaved a slow sigh, closing his eyes briefly. Looks like the game was over. He could hear Recoil’s voice through the comlink; ‘Captain? Captain, are you okay?’ There was a distinct note of panic in the sharp-shooter’s voice, and Sole silently wished he’d brought someone with a little less raw grief hanging over him as backup. ‘Fine, vod. Just fine. Keep your eyes open; she’ll probably be leaving soon. If she does, your going to have to track her.’

Which meant that Sole would be dead, and the mission to eliminate the bounty hunter would fall to Recoil. ‘Understood, sir,’ the sniper replied, his voice carrying a distinctively regretful note; he understood the stakes as well as Sole had when he’d accepted the mission. “All right,” Sole said quietly, still breathless form the unexpected attack; his head was still swimming, vision blurry as he tried to keep conscious as long as he could. “Get it over with. I’m sure you have other places to be, people to hunt...and I can't wait around all day.”

[13]

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 05/01/2010 12:43 AM

Having assured herself that her target was bound and not going anywhere in the foreseeable future, Astraea finally stood again, taking a step or two back to regard her quarry with a calculating, experienced eye. She knew full well that this was by far the narrowest victory she had seen to date, and just how close she’d come to being in the exact position Sole was in now, if not worse. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she’d had the advantage of surprise on her side, this situation could very well have been backwards. Now that the rush of the hunt was over, things seemed to settle back a notch, falling into a steady, unhurried rhythm, giving her a chance to take a breather and look at her position from a different point of view. She studied her captive’s face for a long, silent moment or two, wondering what might be going through his head at a time like this. Astraea was somewhat surprised by just how unflustered Sole seemed by everything that had just happened, her head tilted slightly to the side in an almost birdlike manner as she considered his expression.

“You know, you seem unusually level-headed for someone who’s seen what you just witnessed,” she finally commented, her tone mild and almost conversational in quality. There was no hostility or ill-naturedness in her voice or her features as she spoke, no indication that her audience was anything more than a stranger she’d happened across on the street and decided to strike up a conversation with. “You can’t say that I didn’t give you fair warning.” Her look was almost patronizing as she regarded her fallen companion. Experimentally, the fingers of one hand explored the region of her chest where the round had struck, relieved to find that they were met only with smooth, unblemished skin instead of the gaping hole which otherwise should have been there. Somehow, she’d have to cover for her slip – Sole wasn’t supposed to know about her…’unusual’ abilities, and it wasn’t a fact that she liked to throw around in public, if she could avoid it. Between now and when she turned him in, she’d have to figure out how to keep his mouth shut on the matter if she wanted to continue going about doing her job the way she had been for the past countless years. Ideally, the best person to keep secrets was a dead person…but unfortunately, that wasn’t an option in this case.

A small, amused smile flitted across Astraea’s features at Sole’s statement; if nothing else, he certainly had plenty of bravado for a doomed man, and her respect for him rose slightly again. “Sure you can, if it strikes my fancy,” she replied offhandedly, the cynicism in her voice easily identifiable, “…not that you really have much say in it, as it is.” She shrugged in a mockingly apologetic manner. Strolling over to the bed, she seated herself daintily on the edge with a soft creak of springs, casually crossing her legs, her arms folded across her chest as she looked down at her incapacitated target.“Well, seeing as we’re here and have all the time in the world, now doesn’t seem like such a bad time to have a little chat…you know, get to know each other and all.” The grin was audible in her voice as she spoke; she had a reputation for being rather…unconventional in her methods. She liked to do things her way, which the unfortunate Sole was about to discover first-hand.
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 05/06/2010 8:27 PM

Sole couldn’t really say he was panicking at the moment. He was practically drugged up, bound by his wrists and ankles, and lying on the floor in front of a woman who was going to kill him. He’d been through worse…and that was definitely saying something. He sighed quietly, letting his body relax as he rolled over onto his side. His eyes darted up towards the woman sitting on the bed, and he chuckled tiredly. “I’ve seen weirder…trust me.” Not that he could recall anything weirder at the moment, but he was going to chalk that up to the tranquilizers currently running through his system. Everything seemed to be moving at a slower pace; even his heart rate felt sluggish.

“Since you want to chat,” he began quietly, letting his head ‘thunk’ against the hard floor. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “Why don’t we chat? And since your probably going to kill me anyways, why not tell me what all the weird…freakiness with the healing is? I know your not a Jedi. Your just some two-bit bounty hunter who took a two-bit job. So what’s with the weirdness?” He opened his eyes, looking up at her through dark lashes. He seemed completely resigned to his fate, tired even. Sole honestly felt like giving into the tranquilizers and just going to sleep. Maybe it wouldn’t be as painful when she killed him if he was sleeping. Plus, he was just…really…really tired right now. He yawned, looking nonplussed by the situation, and lifted his head.

“If your not going to answer my questions, can you just hurry up and kill me, or whatever it is your going to do? I’m sleep and…well…I need a nap.” He snorted; yeah, a good long permanent nap. He’d have settle for a cat-nap, but…if he couldn‘t have that, then he supposed that the ‘big sleep’ would work out well enough. He could hear Recoil saying something in his ear, but he was too tired to care or to listen at the moment. It probably wasn’t important anyway. “Oh…By the way…Think you can loosen the binds a bit? They’re pretty tight. I mean, if I’m gonna get taken out, I’d rather go out comfortable.” He snorted. “And I just made that shabla bed. Can’t you sit somewhere else? Your messing up the covers.”

[14]

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 05/09/2010 3:15 AM

The situation had turned into something of an impasse; although Astraea clearly had the upper hand for the time being, she didn’t seem like she was in much of a hurry to put that advantage to work. Instead, she’d taken to simply observing her captive, an expression of something akin to mild amusement on her face as she let her gaze rest on his, almost as if she were trying to read him like a book. Of course, he didn’t seem to be quite as willing to comply, as his countenance remained stubbornly nonchalant as he looked back up at his captor, playing the part of the bored, uninterested hostage quite admirably. “Really?” the young woman, asked in response to his first statement. “In that case, I’m quite impressed. I know I’d be pretty weirded out if I saw someone like myself for the first time in my life.”

“Good sport.” Astraea sounded amused as Sole decided to humor her request, a small smile decorating her features. “So…how exactly could you know for certain that I’m not a Jedi?” The idea of being a Jedi sounded absolutely absurd to her, but she went along with the idea for the moment, for lack of a better one. Sole probably hadn’t seen very much of the ‘inhuman’ kind in his time, after all. She snorted. “Even if I told you what I was, you wouldn’t believe me anyhow…not that it’ll really make a difference either way.” It was true; after all, how many people wouldn’t laugh in your face if you up and told them out of the blue, “Oh, and hey, before I forget to mention it, I happen to be a vampire. Yes, of the blood-sucking variety.”? Sometimes, the truth could be a little…inconvenient. “Plus, what does that make you? The idiot who got taken out by the ‘two-bit bounty hunter’? Sounds like you’ve got the worse end, if you ask me.”

“Sorry, no can do. Can’t have you doing anything ‘unexpected’, now can I?” She laughed lightly. “I’d take that as a compliment though, if I were you. And as for your bed…I’m sure you wouldn’t have kept the covers neat for long, anyhow.” There was a flash of a smirk that was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. “Anyhow, I think you’ve had more than your fair share of questions already. I think it’s my turn to ask a few of my own.” There was a brief pause as Astraea considered whatever it was that she had in mind. “So, I’m curious…What would ever possess a person like you to make a break from the government? After all, weren’t your kind created to be their little guard akks and toy army in the first place? I can’t imagine that they’d be all to happy to have a…'feral animal', if you'll excuse my terminology.” She was actually legitimately curious as to what his answer would be; after all, you had to have some pretty strong motivation if you were going to run from the government, who had the greatest man-hunting power in the vicinity, and not to mention the fact that they had no inhibitions against killing their victims. Not that she was speaking from personal experience, of course.
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 05/09/2010 11:47 PM

Sole snorted, watching as a cloud of dust rose off the floor in front of him. His cheek was pressed painfully into the old, cracked wood, and he knew it would probably leave some kind of permanent mark, if it hadn’t already. He rolled his eyes upwards, staring at her from beneath his cropped bangs, and frowned. “Your not a Jedi just because. I would know, trust me. I’ve met Jedi. I’ve talked to Jedi. I’ve worked with Jedi…and you, lady, are no Jedi.” He rolled over onto his stomach; his shoulder was beginning to ache, wrenched at an awkward angle. That was going to smart later on. Well, providing there was a later on. “Yeah…did you not hear me say ‘two-bit bounty’? Because it certainly seems like you either ignored that, or just chose not to hear it. I’m not exactly a prize, you know, no matter what they put on that stupid ‘wanted list.’ You might think you’ve just caught the ‘bounty of a lifetime,’ but the truth is, all you have is a worthless clone who’s life and service mean even less to the Republic than the armor he wears. So congratulations. You’ve just hit the jackpot.”

He closed his eyes, letting his chin rest painfully against the floor. He really wanted to sit up; maybe then he wouldn’t be so inclined to fall asleep on the floor. That, and he’d have liked to see the look on her face when he said that. Not that she’d care much, of course. He was just another job to her. He wondered if he was playing the part of the ‘morose, renegade, runaway clone’ he was supposed to be. Maybe he was; maybe he was doing too good a job. He sighed heavily, cracking open one eye as he gazed up at her through another cloud of dust stirred up by his breath. Her questions weren’t exactly off-center; he’d been expecting something like that. Truth was, he did have his own opinions on why someone would make a break for it from the GAR. He understood completely; if he wasn’t who he was, then he might’ve done a runner at some point in the near future as well. Now that he saw how the other-half lived, people with real lives and real rights, Sole wasn’t so sure his narrowed-down world of army rules and regulations was exactly for him. So when he answered her questions, it was half acting, and half his own opinions. But she never had to know that now, did she?

“Yeah…You should know all about that. That’s why they sent you after me, isn’t it? Can’t have a ‘feral animal’ running around unchecked…I’m just supposed to be their good little guard dog, doing what the master says and never asking questions. Well I started asking questions; why not me? Why can’t I have a life? Why can’t I be free? As you can see, those questions aren’t exactly acceptable among our ranks; I was created to be a super solider, to be a loyal follower that would bend and break when the time called for it. I wasn’t created to have a normal life. What do you do when your ‘trained akk’ starts getting ideas: ideas and thoughts that are above his station? You put him down because he‘s not good for anything else. Do you think I could ever be normal? I’m a killer, a trained killer. I couldn’t possibly be allowed to roam free. I could never have another purpose. I had to be put down. That’s what they sent you to do; I’m just another casualty of the war, another nameless face that will go unrecognized and unacknowledged. I think the chance at having even one second, one brief, blissful moment of a real, normal life would be worth whatever painful and deadly reciprocation they could throw my way.

"But I couldn’t even have that; I could even have a normal life, because even if I were to somehow survive all this, I’d still be robbed of whatever normal lifespan I should have had to begin with. That’s right. They couldn’t even let us live past forty, could they? Just one more way to keep us from wanting something we could never have. Take away the normal lifespan, the links to the outside world, and any happiness we could derive from a life outside the GAR, and there you have it; perfectly trained little soldiers. We’re happy to die for you, you and all the other civilians who don’t give a mott’s backside about what we do or how we’re forced to fight for you. You sit, safe in your homes, while my brothers and I are on the front lines, dying for a war that is not our own, and then have the nerve and audacity to call us ‘droids,’ because that‘s all you see us as. Well, I finally said enough. Enough death, enough pain, enough destruction. I’m not going to be their ‘trained akk’ any longer. So if your going to shoot me, then shoot me. I’d rather die free, than a caged man.”


Well, that sounded a bit dramatic, Sole had to admit. And maybe his mouth had gotten carried away with him. He didn’t even know he truly felt that way. He didn’t know he could make it sound so…so real. But then, it wasn’t real, was it? Right? Sole wasn’t sure anymore, because half of what he said had been…true. He closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath, and listening to his rapid heartbeat, trying to regain some semblance of calm. Everything was beginning to spiral out of control.

[15]

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 05/10/2010 11:51 PM

True to Sole’s expectations, Astraea merely continued to watch him mildly, her impassive, distant expression one that would make any cat proud. If she had a tail, one could almost imagine it flicking lazily behind her, much in the same manner as a feline watching its prey struggle beneath its claws before neatly dispatching it. The young woman, however, seemed content to listen to her captive; he’d given her a run for her money (although she had the sneaking suspicion that he was probably capable of more than he’d revealed to her), and the least she could do was to give him an opportunity to plead his case before deciding on her next course of action. After all, she did have all the time in the world, even if he didn’t.

“I can’t deny that fact,” she replied offhandedly to his comment about her not being a Jedi, “although I have to say that your argument is rather weak.” As Sole continued, Astraea’s expression seemed to take on a somewhat wry edge. “If I didn’t know better from our previous encounter, I would say that you have some slight issues with self-confidence,” she said, sounding amused. “However, that’s not a matter of great concern to me; all I know is that whoever’s got it in for you is offering a considerable sum to see that you don't get away. The details are secondary.” She shrugged indifferently, although she did have to admit, the pieces didn’t quite fit together. If what Sole said was true, then why was her client willing to pay so much for his return? That, however, was a question for another time. If her client was looking to cheat her, well, she would have no qualms against doing them in as well. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem, right?

When Astraea had posed the question, she’d half been expecting not to get a response at all from her incapacitated target, but what she certainly hadn’t seen coming was a long and drawn-out soliloquy on the wrongs the government had done to the man who she was supposed to be bringing back to them. Nonetheless, she held her silence as he explicated his point, listening dutifully, head tilted slightly to one side as she watched him carefully, presumably analyzing and weighing what he had to say. Her façade gave away nothing, but it certainly wasn’t quite as uninterested as it had been a little earlier. It had taken on a more thoughtful expression as Sole continued, although her gaze never left his face. As old as it made her feel to say it, she’d been around when the GAR had decided to start using clones, a change which certainly did nothing to endear her to the government, with whom she already had…differences. The administration’s standards had changed considerably since her days of service…but that was another story entirely. Now wasn’t the time or place to dwell on memories and old grudges. Sure, she’d known that Sole’s kind had gotten the ‘short end of the stick’ when it came to…well…just about everything, but she’d never actually had it described to her, especially by one of their own or so vividly.

She could tell that there was something about what he was saying that Sole didn’t quite believe, or perhaps want to, which perplexed her slightly. He certainly did a pretty good job of making his argument sound convincing though. Despite all that, there was a deep-seated acceptance somewhere within him, if only on a subliminal level, that clearly said that every single word was true. So, did he actually believe everything he was saying, or not? It was the first time that Astraea couldn’t figure out a person’s beliefs, just by listening to them talk about them. She eyed the now-silent man, her gaze now mildly inquisitive as she regarded him, trying to make sense of the disparity between his words and what he actually took credence in. All-in-all, he was a mystery to her, although she’d sooner die than let him know that. For now, she remained in the role of the heartless, ‘I don’t give a damn’ bounty hunter, although there were certainly a lot of new facets to this seemingly simple chase which had been revealed. Well, if nothing else, it certainly made the ‘game’ a lot more interesting for her, and she decided, on a whim (as she occasionally did when it came to hunts) that she wasn’t quite ready for it to end just yet.

Without warning, or any other notice, she stood from her seat on the bed, padding slowly over to her downed target until she stood only a foot or two away, looking down on him. The scent of his blood once again hit her like a rock wall, and she had to shorten her breath to avoid inhaling it as much as possible, light blue eyes coming to rest on his face once again. There was a weighted pause, then…“Don’t be so quick to judge those whom you don’t know.” Clearly, she was playing her cards close to her chest, and not giving away more than she had to. Her motives though, were her own, and hers alone, and she would obviously play by her own rules. Her voice and expression were a schooled mask of emotionlessness, kept carefully blank as she addressed Sole. “Don’t let me catch you again, next time around.” The statement was simple, but imbued with more meaning than she spoke. Yes, I will come after you again, and yes, there will be a next time. Just make sure you don’t give me the opportunity to find you.

Abruptly, she turned on her heel and walked back the way she had come in. Astraea paused just before walking out of the room, as if just remembering something. “ You’d best call your friend off as well; I can guarantee you, he won’t get off as lucky as you did. Maybe he’d be more useful giving you a hand getting out of your…dilemma.” With that, she was gone, the Khimera only lingering a moment longer to give Sole a last, baleful look before disappearing into the shadows once again with a flick of bladed tails.
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