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Vega Van-Derveld
Aug 11th, 2002, 06:17:12 AM
Having bound and gagged the clerk at the library, the group moved through the library quickly. Some toed gingerly over the shards of glass their entrance had caused, whilst others rushed at full pace. Each bobbed through the shelves of books, ferreting about for a volume, a particular book they were in need of. One by one pages were strewn into the air as anger rose amongst the six – yes, there were six of them, all identically dressed with their black masks and overalls. A short member of the raid team gave the book attendant a kick for good measure as he realized just how hard it was to find what they had come in search for…

Hold. We’re going to fast here. Let’s start from a clearer point in this story.

Jump back two hundred years if you can, and picture the universe. It doesn’t look that different, but below the surface – of course – things are very different indeed. Technology may be winging its way towards what we consider normal, but the beliefs of some are far from being on par with modern man. It’s not as if people a century ago were raving lunatics, but they did follow some principles which seem quite alien to us. Take for example – well it is not really an example, but infact the main concern of this ‘tale’ – Sith.

The outer rim planet of Krux was once home to a collective of Sith. Though small in number, the nomadic darksiders were great in power. Not all that unusual really, infact if you flick through history you will find far too many of these ‘secluded darksiders’ lurking about; quite cliché. But this is beside the point. The special thing about this order was their pious attitude. Their way of life mimicking monks, only with a twist of evil, of course. One would find the members of the sect on cloisters chanting some ancient rite or slinking through chapels clad in their clandestine robes. This, though not your typical way of the Sith, was embraced fully by the members of the group; who also believed in – much like evangelists will do – humans and other humanoids alike having souls. These so called ‘souls’ are the source of their power, and where it is all stored once it is created.

Ludicrous?

It sounds far fetched, but you’d be surprised to find that their theory was proved correct. At the peak of their abilities, otherwise known as when they began to decay due to the effect large gravities of power had on them, each member was said to imbue his or her strength into an object. At this point the normal intellectual will begin to piece together the wildly simple puzzle which I am outlining for you. That’s correct, the Sith put all of their power into one thing. Namely an orb or two orbs to be exact. One blue in hue and the other white. Staying true to stereotypes, the negative energy empowered the dark sphere and the positive energy was absorbed into the white sphere.

The concept of such an idea is moronic when thought on for more than a moment. Surely by passing your very essence into something you are destroying yourself? Yes. Did the Al-Khali Sith Order care? No. The members, far too dogmatic to be convinced otherwise, offered their lives up in the hope that someday a messiah would come and take on board their power, bringing about a new age of pain unto the masses.

Trite, to say the least.

But I am digressing from the true reason that spurs me on to tell you this. An acolyte of the Order stowed away the orbs in a ‘safe hiding place’ – hackneyed – so that only the ‘sacred chosen one’ would find them. You would think that after thousands of years of evil schemes going wrong someone would have the decency to tell these poor little infidels what they are doing wrong because, surprise surprise, someone found out about the orbs.

Or, at least they found out about something. There was a something hidden on Krux, but it seemed that not one single databank in the galaxies could say what something did or where on Krux something was hidden. You can refer back to what was going on in the library now as, no doubt you will have guessed, our wily villains are just about to break in.

Mask
Aug 11th, 2002, 06:19:07 AM
“Hurry the hell up!”

Six shadows scaled the west wall of the towering building. The spear head of the team leapt up to perch precariously on a stone gargoyle lurching out from the side of the library. Even with the mask over his face, it was quite clear that he was angry. Tuffs of silvery hair poked out of the top of the goggles he wore whilst auburn eyes burned beneath the lenses. It was evident from the figures of the group that four were male, and two were female. The leader, of course, was male. Quite a motley crew by the looks of it, hardly surprisingly really – a group of pirate Dark Jedi. Opting out of the siren call to the Black Hand which most fallen Jedi felt, the small group known as the ‘Nightstalkers’ followed the commands of their egotistical leader, “Mask”, without question.

“Alright, the skylight is above. Once we get inside, Emile and Kasha will follow me to the west wing of the library. Keik, I want you to take Ara and Xavier through the east side.”

A nod from each of those now crawling onto the rooftop signified that they’d understood. Keik – second in command – stood up at full height and fixed the braces on his arms. His eyes, much like Mask’s, had fallen to the scene below them. For the past seven hours this particular info-depository had been closed. The only person still inside was the clerk, who doubled as an inept night watchman.

Mask held a large battering ram in a single hand, the tip over the glass paneling below his feet. With one mighty swing the black cylinder had struck hard at the surface of the window and ran straight through it. Like ripples on a pound, the waves of energy created by the beam echoed outwards and tore the glass sheets to pieces within seconds. A rain of tinkling shards cascaded over the open hall below. At the sound of this, the warden woke from his drowsy sleep and leapt to his feet …

… Only to be floored moments later. One of the Dark Jedi dropped right on top of the old man, and immediately began to yank the elderly citizen’s arms together. With a quick tug of some cord and the clerk was bound. He let out a scream, only to find his mouth plugged with thick cloth. Whilst Keik and his party dealt with the security systems within the room, Mask, Emile and Kasha moved off to look for the books. As ever Mask was tearing out through the shelves within an instant, though Emile moved more cautiously.

“Anyone want to torture him?” Keik murmured mockingly as he thumped the attendant.

A wave of energy passed over, and mingled with, the minds of the whole group for a split second, removing the nonchalant approach which they were taking to the whole affair. They had to focus on the task at hand – finding the information on the artifact.

Vega Van-Derveld
Aug 11th, 2002, 06:21:28 AM
Let me take a moment to interject once more.

You may have been led to believe that in our society security and the enforcers of law are bumbling fools. If this is the opinion you hold, you are quite right in thinking so. Just look around wherever you go and you will find at least a hand full of bounty hunters, criminals and thugs for hire. Info-brokers make more than the most highly paid professionals, and upcoming academics opt towards an unethical life purely because of the simplicity of it.

Of course, don’t get me wrong, there are some competent people. Coruscant, being such a hive of activity is policed fairly well. Though its law system is not on par with planets such as Arcan IV or Corellia, it should be commended for the fact that the reaction rate to crime is quick. The officers might not apprehend the criminals, but they definitely get to the scene of the event in a flash.

The Fourth Quarter library in uptown Coruscant city has renowned for its low crime level. This is for two reasons – one, the impeccable security system (and the fact that the police station is only a jump away from the building) and two, the simple truth that no one would ever want to take anything from the library. Never the less, the former reason will – tonight – benefit those who have funded the databank.

A silent alarm has been set off.

But, alas, fate is cruel. It will still take five minutes for a squadron of troopers to arrive to deal with the cat burglars. By the time the cavalry gets to the building the masked terrorists will have escaped through the roof and torn off into the night to never be seen again! Or will they?

Outside of the library the sirens are already wailing. Mask and his merry band of men have eventually seized what they want and begun to ascend out of the skylight once more – not forgetting to kill the clerk before leaving. People in the local area are beginning to wonder what’s going on, and some have infact left their houses to watch the unfolding events.

Jump to the east side of the up market district. One block down from the trooper station. The Rayval café. Hardly what you would call luxurious, but still famous for its pleasant tasting bagels. This is the point in the story where we welcome our token sacrifice character, who will die a humorous and painful death very soon. Unfortunately, the man appears to be a little busy eating his 1am snack.

Vega Van-Derveld
Aug 11th, 2002, 06:40:20 AM
Random police officer number one lifted up his bagel and took a hefty bite out of it, spilling crumbs out onto his jacket Cream oozed out of the bread bun onto the corner of his lip as he chewed the food noisily, cradling his cup of joe in his free hand. Technically, tonight he should have been at home as it was his off night, not his shift, but he wasn’t, for reasons that are too insignificant to even bother explaining, especially for such a small character.

Never the less, he was in the diner, watching some late night soap opera. His eyes fixed in a trance on the TV screen up behind the counter, watching as some tacky drama unfolded before him. On occasion, he would drive another piece of food between his lips, and wash it down with some steaming coffee – but aside from this, made very little movement. Most around him were the same, all night owls with their strained looking eyes and sluggish movements.

Something made a crackling whiney noise.

He looked down to see his radio, the light on the side flashing, signifying someone was contacting him. Fumbling with it, he lifted it to his ear and said a muffled ‘Yes’, spitting out bread crumbs all over the counter in front of him. Someone on the other end of the radio was barking about a break in at the library, and how all available units should come quickly as the suspects were considered armed and dangerous.

The unimportant officer got to his feet quickly and dropped his bagel – gasp! – pulling out a blaster pistol from the holster on his belt. With a panicked glance about, he paid for what he’d bought then barged out into the street. Just along the street – for it was a very long and straight street, easy to see up and down – he could pick out the library in the darkness. There were, sadly, no cabs rushing up and down the road, thus he had to resort at an attempted jog.

Vega Van-Derveld
Aug 12th, 2002, 09:20:04 AM
The group tore through the library at force enhanced speed, eyes scanning and searching for any information on the planet Krux. It took them only 2 mins and 43 seconds to retrieve one volume that detailed the planet and part of its history, and thus they began their ascent and escape. One by one, they leapt by aid of the force back through the sky light window and landed in silence on the top of the roof. Already sirens were drawing near to the building, and as they cast a sharp glance about the area, panic struck some of the members.

Mask, as always, kept them in check and ordered the scale down the wall on the back of the library so that they would land into the industrial area, at the back of a large factory. They all appeared nimble and slipped downwards at a fair speed.

Though they were quick, the law was gaining on them. Speeders from the police station were winging their way around the corner of the street that lead to the library – and would reach it within a minute or so. In comparison with their quick pace, was that of the random officer, who charged forward at a sluggish pace. He heaved in and out breathes, his throat filling with phlegm as he hacked and cough. His gun was carried in a limp grip in one hand as he waddled on.

Something was watching him.

And the something was about to pounce out on him.

And did. And threw him to the floor, and smashed his skull against the pavement. The officer let out an unpredicted high pitched scream, and quickly found a metal soled boot driving down onto his neck – cutting off the air supply. Though he tried to fire at the one who’d assaulted him, his gun was tore into the air by some unseen hand and thrown away. As his weapon was, so was his police badge. Once these two items were removed, his life was – in a similar fashion – taken, splattering a shower of red across the stone where his obese body lay.

The darkly cloaked figure stepped over his body and let out a gruff growl.