FF 1: Turn Of The Time

[The Keeper of Chronicles]

For all of us, Time is a quantitative concept – a finite extent of continued existence for life, but not for itself; the interval between two events, or the period during which an action or state continues; a period referred to in some way. Time increases – it never decreases or reverses itself. Although things wither away and die with time, it is safe to say that Time is a harmless, intangible concept. It cannot be grasped or drank, or threw or kicked. We can see the effects of time, but we cannot manipulate Time itself. Or can we?

What if Time was a tangible object ready for use by whoever controlled it? What if Time could be used as a weapon and it fell into, or was rather taken by, the wrong hands? In its current state, Time, for all intents and purposes, is endless. But if abused in such a selfish way, would Time eventually run out? What would happen to the stars and the planets and indeed the sentient inhabitants of the Universe? The chances of such an event coming to pass are very slight. One in billions to be approximate. Only the most evil, deranged, selfish megalomaniac with power too terrifying to behold would be capable of such a thing would even be able to comprehend, let alone enact, such an idea.

Time and Existence are like the chicken and the egg. Which came first? Time has always existed. Existence came much later. Time has always been considered an immensely powerful tool of the Universe. That is why it has been guarded at all times by a guardian unlike any ever encountered before. It’s appearance and cognition and power goes beyond all description and most sentient comprehension. You see it every day of your life; when you travel by bus; when you visit the ice-cream store; at the cinema; in the park; when you make love; during birth; when you kill someone; when you die. Even when you check to see what time it is. It is everywhere and everywhen. Virtually indestructible to anything and everything ever created, the guardian exists for one purpose – the protection of Time. To date, no living nor dead thing, sentient or not, has challenged the guardian. Likely, nobody is even aware it exists.

In a dark crypt, illuminated poorly by naked flame and suffocated by a stench of ages, a man of ancient visage sits protectively over an array of dusty books and old tomes of mystical origin. The walls are damp and covered in black moss. The shadows move as the flames flicker. Unseen spectres dart in and out of the shelves that cover every wall, every vertical surface. Books on every table, every chair, and every tile. ‘Archive’ would be an understatement for such a monstrous collection of texts. The shelves disappear into the darkness above – whether or not a ceiling exists is open for discussion. Full to bursting with books, the cavern of knowledge is gigantic. It would take many lifetimes to digest all the information contained within this dark, unwelcoming black library. How is it then that the man who sits at the solitary table, in the centre of the archive, has digested what information he has? His features do not tell the full story of his existence. His face is merely a mask of Time, holding the truth at bay. He gazes deep into the pages of the purple-covered, gold-rimmed book. His eyes penetrate the paper, threatening to set them alight as they do. He does not blink even when a small moth flies directly into his left eye. In less than an instant, the lifeless pupil consumes all whiteness of the eyeball, as well as the moth, before returning to “normal”. He wears thick-flowing robes of purple and gold. His legs are lost beneath the sea of fabric that extends down to, and along, the floor. His feet are unseen. Neither are his hands. Perhaps they too hide within his robes. Suddenly, the book drops. An unseen hand closes the tome and places it back on the pile of similarly books. The being stands up slowly. Whatever small amount of urgency that was present milliseconds before has now subsided. The chair moves backwards, silently across the cold, damp, stone floor. With a slight gesture towards one of the flames surveying the crypt, the being moves away from the table, and disappears up a dark flight of stairs, followed by three small creatures of a jittery nature. Each is identical save skin colour. One is green, another purple, and the last red. Each is crowned by an imitation of wispy, dead, long grey hair. The green and purple creatures immediately follow the taller robed being, whilst the red horror discreetly places a small golden yet charred key in his mouth and swallows it promptly before running to catch up. Once they are all up the stairs, a portcullis descends from the ceiling and closes up the staircase. Simultaneously, all the flames in the crypt mysteriously extinguish themselves, bringing total darkness.

On a planet extremely distant to the crypt, near the centre of a small star cluster some distance from the Galactic Core, a man relaxes outside a bustling cafe on the corner of the street. His name is Kal Jericho and today is the start of his first vacation in six years. His admirable sideburns and distinguishing goatee accentuate his eyes and mouth. Sipping his hot chocolate, Kal tears his eyes away from the deeply enthralling wonders of his travel literature to take a quick survey of the street. The University steps across from him can barely be seen amidst a sea of students from all cultures and species. Humans, Bothans, Mon Cals, Wookiees, Riylans and many more too numerous to mention. All of them gossiping and arguing. One particularly attractive human gives one of the Riylans an exceptionally hard smack across the face before heading across the road towards the cafe. As Kals eyes follow her, he notices the sheer abundance of traffic today. People are out and about thanks to the generous weather this summer – lightyears better than last years pathetic stormy conditions. Business men and women enter and exit vehicles, street merchants argue and haggle with potential customers, police officers question tramps and suspicious-looking individuals. All in all it was a pretty normal day on Menora.

Quickly finishing his drink, Kal stands and heads inside the cafe for another. The girl from across the street is in the queue, seeming slightly upset about something, but Kal pays it no mind since it’s really none of his business. He steps up to the counter and orders another hot chocolate, this time with a sandwich too./ Unfortunately, the drink is far from “hot” but the waitress prefers to keep that to herself. As she places the order onto the counter, it seems to get slightly darker outside as a gust of wind disturbs the upbeat summer atmosphere. Kal pays for the drink and sandwich, and turns to return to his table outside, when he knocks into the young girl, covering her in chocolate and sending her to the floor backwards. As he does so, those with exceptionally acute hearing would notice the explosion several blocks away, near the museum. Everyone in the cafe and University, at least, seem to be unaware or it.

Kal bends down and helps the girl up.

“Are you alright Miss....?”

[Lael]

Riylan: Is daddy going to pay for you to pass this school year, little Lael?

Stop it!

Lael turned and frowned at the Riylan that wouldn't stop following her all day. He had been in her class all year long, and he had found out one way or another what she got on each and every test they had. Her father was understandably angry about this, but he wouldn't do such a thing as pay Lael's way out of this situation, nor would she let him.

The Riylan laughed as he continued to get in her face. Finally she had had enough, so a slender small hand came up and whacked the guy in the face. Without letting him get in another word, she whirled around and bounded away.

She knew she wasn't the smartest in the class, but she wasn't dumb either. She just didn't pay attention much because she had her head in the clouds, daydreaming about different things. Of course, this was not Allias Verity behavior. Every member of her family before her to attend the University was a perfect student, or at least near perfect. She, herself, was just average in skills, and prettier in looks than the other women in her family. And she never heard the end of that either.

Each woman in her family was extrememly intelligent, yet average in looks. They had brown hair, the normal curves, and dark brown eyes. Yet, Lael was different. She was strangely born with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and as she grew, she had a better body than the rest of the women in her family. They all joked about maybe Lael was adopted or something, thinking it wouldn't hurt her. But it did.

She lowered her head and tried not to cry, but her face was red from holding it all back. She knew this wasn't the way to act. After all, it was just teasing. But being so imaginative and a day dreamer made her one to leave her heart on her sleeve. No matter how an Allias Verity was supposed to act.

She stopped and turned to go across the street to the cafe to sit and calm down. As soon as her foot hit the street, the weather seemed to change, causing her hair blowing about wildly. As she was coming across to her destination, she looked up to look at the sky. With the distraction, as was always the center of the problem, she managed to bump into someone. At first she felt a luke warm liquid hit her, covering her overcoat completely, then hit the ground on her rear end.

Man's voice: Are you alright Miss...."

She looked up, thinking the day couldn't get any worse. She just wasn't having any luck at all. First she was late for class, then she fell asleep during it, then the Riylan, and now she was covred in something sticky and her butt hurt.

Yeah.

She looked down, her eyes going wide suddenly as she pushed her skirts down below her knees. Scratch that, her day could get worse because falling made her skirts fly up into her face because of the wind. Lael quickly got up, one hand covering her skirt so the wind wouldn't be the little devil again with her skirts.

[General Hein]

He surveyed the town from atop his transport. It was distinctly flurishing for its remote location and nondescripit neighbors. Behind him stood what appeared to be legions of stormtroopers, with one qualifying difference, they were not white, but green purple and red. The General leaned foreward on one leg, facing towards the town.

His mission had been to find a girl, one girl in an entire town, and take her alive. He didnt know what she looked like, and she only had first name, but he had been given a source from which to divine who she was if he indeed found her. He turned back to his troops, they seemed to be a little hunched over, he closed his eyes for a minute and that illusion went away.

Raising his arm into the air, he decleared in one strong voice

"ATTACK!"

[I]The rumbling of entire legions charging forth seemed like earthquakes as the mass's spewed forth towards the unsuspecting town, ready to dismantle its very core to find one, litte, girl...

[Kal Jericho]

The girl came out of nowhere. She fell back hard. Kal felt that! Must've hurt quite a bit. He grabs her arm and hoists her up. She seems shaken up a bit, but no permanent damage. Her shirt was almost completely covered in chocolate. Kal would have been lying if he'd said he wasn't slightly turned on by her semi-see-through top. He moved the both of them to one side as customers were waiting to be served - he just hoped she didn't think he was a little rude. She grabbed a tissue in an attempt to clean herself off.

"I'm really sorry about that.....Lael. I didn't see you, I just.....sorry!"

He let out an awkward smile to try and ease the situation. He too grabbed a tissue as if to help her clean here chest, but thought it best to let her do it herself. She was quite attractive. And - blue eyes! She had blue eyes. That was it. Kal was gone. Doomed! Well maybe not doomed, but rest assured he'd make a fool of himself in the near future in front of this girl.

"Are you okay? Let me buy you a drink as an apology. It's the least I can do. If you want I could pay for the cleaning bill!?"

He was overdoing it. And he probably realised it. But he'd already started and he'd better stop before she thinks he's some kind of weirdo. Okay, so maybe he is a bit of a weirdo - but it's not like she'd find out about that, now is it? He was so concerned about her that he hadn't noticed the ceramic shard embedded in his bleeding hand, which had smashed off the cup during the collision.

[Lael]

Lael smiled faintly as he helped her up. At least he was a gentlemen about it instead of blaming it on her.

No, it's my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going.

She noticed that he was staring at her, yet he was in luck that she didn't notice him looking at her soaked chest. She just took the tissues he offered her and immediatly took to cleaning off the mess. But it probably wouldn't be enough to clean it, and now it was...

Oh jeez! It's see through now! She thought.

She folded her arms across her chest and turned bright red, her eyes wide as she looked up at Kal. He was beginning to ramble at a quick speed, almost making it hard to understand what he was saying.

I'm okay, really. I don't need anything, and it's just a shirt. I have others.

At that point she looked down. She never could look a guy in the eyes for very long, one of her shy trademarks that was very un-Allias Verity like. When she did, she noticed his hand and snatched it, gasping.

Your hand! Oh, this is all my fault! I'm sorry!

[Kal Jericho]

Damn. He didn't see that. An two inch long, inch thick shard of ceramic potasius was embedded deep in the palm of his hand. Luckily Lael couldn't see the back of his hand, so she didn't realise the full severity of it - it had gone right the way through. Quickly ragging the ceramic shard out of his palm, Kal pulls his hand away from Lael and raps it in another tissue. She looks concerned at him. To avoid a possible question, he speaks before she can.

"No, it's fine. I bumped into you, remember. It'll be alright. Please, sit down - let me buy you a drink, it's the least I can do! Take a seat, I'll be right back."

Kal turns away from her and heads into the bathroom. Once inside he looks around momentarily. It's immaculately clean. There are several plaques on the white tiled walls - rewards for having the cleanest bathroom in the town three years running. They were well deserved. Eight cubicles lined one wall - opposite eight mirrors and sinks, with three 'freshers on the adjoining wall opposite his position by the door. He enters a cubicle and turns the tap on for the security cameras. He begins to rinse the wound under the tap and lets out a fake cry of pain. In no time at all, the wound is healed. Kal winces again for show, then turns the tap off and exits the cubicle. Fully healed, he returns to the cafe's interior seating area.

[Lael]

Reluctantly, after Kal interrupted her before she could say anything, Lael took a seat at the nearest table and waited for him. While she waited, she watched the hustle and bustle along the side of the street she was on and across it. The Rilyan that had upset her earlier was no longer in sight, but there were a lot of others that were just like that one. A lot of them teased her about the same thing, she had a lot to live up to. Her father was rich, intelligent, and the head of some huge business. Her mother was the daughter of a well known businessman(who had met her husband resulting in the marriage), first in her class, and heirress to the millions her father would leave when he died.

Lael, on the other hand, was all this, but she didn't want it. Her eyes wandered to the children running down the street, chasing one another. They were playing a simple game of bad guy good guy with toy weapons made out of junk. It was strange how normal children could have so much fun with nothing. And even stranger that when Lael was little, she had no fun at all with everything. It was no fun to have everything when there was no one to share those toys and play with. It was even true now.

Lael looked back towards the cafe when she noticed that Kal was approaching the table again. She decided not to ask about his hand, but she was set on not getting a drink. It was her fault, and she was stubborn to that knowledge.

[Ozamel Asp]

Ozamel Asp growled to himself as he stared out his bedroom window and down on the town below. The hustle and bustle of pedestrians weaving intricate patterns into the framework of the streets caused his mind to race. It agitated him to no end, yet he could not tear his eyes from the hypnotic dance. It was riveting in its complexity. After a few more minutes of his dazed glare, the streets lost interest and he was finally able to move. Into his house he fled, passing the prostitute face down asleep in his bed and down the staircase into the kitchen.

Upon entering the lights flickered on, their dull yellow light shining upon the assorted appliances. With deft hands he began to create his breakfast. As the meat below him sizzled and popped in boiling oil, Ozamel made his way to the bathroom. After relieving himself of the liquid his body held, Ozamel peeked at his reflection. A tattoo of black flames wove its way up his naked body, originating at his ankles and finishing their journey at the nape of his neck. The bones in his hands were traced in black on the skin, his nails torn from his fingers a lifetime ago. His face was hairless and often times without expression, but his eyes told a thousand tales. As green as the deepest darkest forests with specks of white thrown in for good measure. The eyes had stared down a thousand men and women, and never once had they blinked.

Still as naked as the day he was born, Ozamel returned to the kitchen to find his food completely burnt. A grimace found its way to his face.

It was the woman’s fault.

She had given too much pleasure the night before and it had made him weak this morning. She had exhausted him. With a toothy grin, one in which the pearly whiteness of his front teeth contrasted heavily with his silver canines, he grasped a knife that lay near by and made his way to his bedroom.

Up the steps he climbed, the metal blade in his hand crying for blood. Oh it would have it.....

BANG! The door flew on its hinges as he kicked it.

Steps of ever growing intensity as he neared the prostitute. She stirred (or did she). Mind racing as he neared the kill. A hand flung out flipping her on her side.......and awareness striking like thunder.

Crimson syrup lined her gown as Ozamel stared at her insides which were all too visible in the morning sunshine. Her skin was already cold from hours of lifelessness, eyes of brown wide open in outrage. She had screamed before she died...Ozamel could remember it now. She had already given herself to him in everyway. She was done now. With hands still shaking with adrenalin he pushed her mouth and eyes closed and layed her back on the bed. Burnt just like the meat in the kitchen below.

As he stood from his kneeling position on the foot of the bed, the house around him shook from a distant blast. Standing up, long knife still in hand, Ozamel stared out his window toward a new pattern growing on the streets. Chaos.

[Kal Jericho]

As Kal approaches Lael, she looks as if she's about to get up and leave when everything stops suddenly. The waitresses, the customers, the cars outside, the birds in the sky. Everything! Everything stops still. Tim itself stops around him. He looks around momentarily, almost horrified. Suddenly, Time resumes. For four seconds Kal remains standing where he is, Lael looking oddly at him as he stares at everything in astonishment. A waitress shoves him out of the way for being gaumless. Suddenly, an explosion errupts from the front of the university, sending debris out into the street. A large piece of duracrete soars through the cafe window, but luckily does not injure anybody. Outside, the university's entrance is in flames as students run out screaming. As he looks closely at the chaos errupting outside, Kal notices an oddly coloured stormtrooper run past one of the university windows on the third floor.

[Lael]

Lael raised a brow, wondering why Kal was staring off inito space. By the look on his face, he was bewildered by something.

What's wrong?

She was about to raise her arm to wave her hand in front of him to see if she could get him out of his daze. But seeing the waitress shove him aside distracted her.

Hey, watch out. You could have tripped him that way.

As soon as she had said that, she heard the explosion from the university's entrance. She shrieked and shielded her face with her forearms crossed before it. She waited a second, then looked back to the building over her arms in time to see the large part of debris flying towards the cafe. It narrowly missed some of the people dining and crashed into the window.

Her attention swung around to the destroyed window, then to Kal. She stood up and looked around for what had caused it. A bomb? An attack? What could it be?

[Ozamel Asp]

Ozamel descended cautiously into the chaos that ran rampant through the streets. He wore the clothing of a rich man now, a long tan coat layered on top of a tight black shirt. Tucked into the folds of the coat lay his blaster, his fingers grazing it every few seconds just to know it was still there. His eyes were wide with suspicion as he attempted to gather as many faces into his mind as possible. The patterns were torn now. The streets were heavy with falling feet and horrid screams.

In the distance a haze of smoke incased the street in gray, the shadows of armored soldiers showing briefly before they were gone. Ozamel needed to get to the bottom of this. He neared his favorite cafe now, the university directly across from it displaying a cracked fascade to the world. From the stores broken front window an outpouring of men and women flooded out into the street.

Just then a stormtrooper painted in colors other than white ran by, his black blaster cradled in his arms like a new born baby. Ozamel knew they were behind this now. The patterns of life could only be destroyed by men with power. Men like these.

Reaching with one tattoed hand into his coat, he revealed his blaster to the world before firing a shot into the stormtroopers back. The man fell face first on the ground. No one noticed in the uncontrolled chaos.

Ozamel smiled. This could be fun.......

[Ryan Kinase]

It had been a normal day in class, well... how normal the Firing Range could be in the center of the University anyway, and Ryan had just been exiting through the front doors when the massive building imploded from the inside.

Ryan was hurtled forward and down the span of marble steps to ram into a passing pedestrian. Both of the bodies fell to the ground quite easily under the massive explosion and following after-shocks. Pulling his body off the man under him, Ryan shook the sence out of his head although his ears still rang loudly.

"Uh... sorry.. dude," He stuttered out, helping the paniced senior who was probally in a state of panic himself. Chaos had erupted from all directions and forms of strangely colored troopers ran amuck. One happen to shove poor Ryan out of his way, which let the Marksman in training get a good look at the strange suit.

As the dust began to settle, Ryan took his chance and darted off torward one of the unknown troopers. Hopfully the tactics the weaponmaster of his Class would prove worth, it was one of the chances where Kinase was not asleep during the lesson. But it was in vain, for the trooper turned down a alley and dissapeared.

Which left Kinase near a Cafe with a hole in the front.

"What the hell is going on!?" he spoke to no-one in particular, glancing at the front of the university which was in ruins and burned furiously..

[Ozamel Asp]

"What the hell is going on!?"

The question that was asked aloud caused Ozamel to direct his attention to the young man who was undoubtably from the university. Behind him a lone trooper was running into the building. Not bothering to aim, Ozamel fired a blast into the soldiers side, causing him to drop to the floor in pain. As he rolled on the floor, his hand gripping his side, Ozamel darted up to him and pointed his blaster inches from his eye piece. Without a word, Ozamel squeezed the trigger and put him out of his misery.

[Kal Jericho]

"It's like a damn warzone or something!"

Kal eyed the door next to the counter. He didn't know why, he just did. Maybe it was a gut feeling. Turning back to the man, Kal stepped forward slightly, standing next to Lael...

"You okay, you hurt or anything? That was some distance you flew just now!"

[Lael]

Lael slowly stood up, broken peices of glass falling off of her, as well as contents from tables such as toast and even spoons or pieces of what used to be a cup.

I'm alright. Just a few scratches.

She brushed herself off, not able to keep her eyes off of the university.

We have to do something! What's going on?

Worry was set on her face, worry for the students, worry for the teachers, and by standers. A few wounded still lay in the street, calling out for help, while some people laid perfectly still, probably dead.

[Kal Jericho]

As Lael spoke, Kal's eyes were instantly drawn to the sudden commotion outside...

"I'm not sure. But I'll bet that guy has something to do with it!"

Kal pointed immediately outside the cafe.

[The Keeper of Chronicles]

Some distance from the city centre, near the coast, a large ship rests motionless in the water. Truly gigantic, the ship is some three kilometres long. The stealth generator is deactivated as yet more gunships and troop carriers depart for the city. Along with them is a Netux Transport bearing some unknown insignia. Much faster than any of it's supporting craft, and far more capable of surviving any hostile encounters, the Netux soars over the ocean at an alarming rate towards the city. The gunships activate their boosters to compensate for their slower engines whilst the transports remain slightly behind. Shortly after, the Battlecruiser re-activates its stealth generator.

The gunships swoop low into the city, only five or so metres from the ground. After one circuit of the university's encompassing road they depart for the skies again. Then, the Netux Transport descends into the city. A shadow looms over the entrance to the University as it does so. Dropping down on the road outside the University - killing several injured people in the process - the Netux lands and the access doors open from the back. Several troopers - all green armoured - exit the transport first, followed by two red troopers and a man in black and white armour. He mutters orders to the green troopers, who acknowledgingly secure the immediate area and proceed inside the University. The man and his bodyguards then ascend what is left of the marble the steps and proceed inside.

As they enter, one of the guarding green troopers standing near the transport turns towards the cafe. He aims his gun and fires...