Galien Moss
Dec 24th, 2003, 07:39:30 PM
In the darkness of the Jedi Gardens the dim outline of a large leafy bush could just be seen moving. The plant quivered, as if blown by a slight breeze, and then suddenly began to tremble with a life of its own. The rustling sound of the shrub grew louder as the shaking became more pronounced and then suddenly gave way to a...
CRACK!
From out of the tangles of the plant's branches a dark mass tumbled, landing with a clatter onto one of the paths that ran through the garden. It lay very still for a moment, noting more than a shadowed lump. Then slowly it moved, growing bigger as it rose from the ground.
"Bloody 'ell, 's this a Temple 'r a f'rtress?"
Galien Moss scowled irritably at the plant as she brushed her trousers off, untangled her many necklaces from her scraggly brown hair, and straightened the wide cuffs of her cotton shirt. The woman was a good two inches shorter than the bush, coming in at four foot eleven, and so her hiding place, with all it's cumbersome greenery, had proven to be quite the adversary.
"Where's me boot?!"
Galien looked down at her feet with mild surprise, finding one dwarfed foot clad only in a striped stocking. The tiny woman dropped to her knees with a grunt and crawled about the ground, feeling for her missing footwear. When her hands came upon nothing but dirt and pebbles, Galien sat up, scratching her head in puzzlement. The last place she'd been wearing her boots was right here, in the garden...
Suspiciously the woman crawled back to the bush. The top half of her dissapeared into the branches, and once again the rustling movement of the plant comenced. After a few moments Galien felt the worn leather of her boot, stuck in a little 'v' at the base of the plant. The dark-skinned woman let out a cry of triumph and then grabbed hold of the shoe with both hands. She gave a mighty pull and stumbled backwards, boot in hand, back out and onto the path.
Now thoroughly filthy and covered in sweat Galien re-shoed herself and then stood upright, looking first to the right and then to the left. Her nimble hands rested on her hips, fingering the dangling talismans on her utility belt. There was a good reason why the woman, who had no ties to the Jedi whatsoever, was in their gardens. It all came down to one thing: Treasure.
For years and years the rumors had circulated. Somewhere, in the Jedi Temple no doubt, the lightsabre-weilding lightsiders had mounds of gems and credits and who-knew-what-elses. The wealth had been aquired from various planets, most likely as thanks for the aid the organization provided to the galaxy. No one had ever seen these treasures, mind you, but proof of their existance was still rather obvious. After all, the Jedi were a large group and yet somehow they managed to provide food, clothing, shelter, training supplies, ect, to all among their ranks. Those things were costly.
The question was, where did the Jedi get the credits to pay for those expenses?
The answer, from their swag stash.
Once she had gotten her bearings, Galien swaggered along the path in her hurly-gurly manner. A wicked grin was spread out over the womans face as she imagined herself swimming in piles of credits, wearing a golden crown and sipping the finest wine from a bejewled goblet. So caught up in the fantasy was she, that Galien nearly walked past the Temple and deeper into the gardens. With a start she backtracked, and then dropped to the ground.
On her belly Galien peered at the dimly-lit corridors through the glass of the doors up ahead. She squinted her sparkling brown eyes suspiciously and then slithered forward combat-style. The action really served no purpose; it didn't conceal Galien from sight, nor did it make her quieter. If anything, with her ridiculous amount of necklaces dragging on the ground and clattering against each other, it made her more obvious. However the woman had always been inclined to eccentricities.
When she had triumphantly reached the door Galien stood, very proud of herself. Thus far the exploit hadn't been very difficult. With a cocky chuckle the woman spread her arms against the door and pushed.
The door didn't open.
Puzzled, Galien pushed again, harder. The door shook slightly, echoing in the silence, but didn't move. Surely the Jedi didn't lock up at night!
"Ehh?"
The scallywag kept banging against the door with increasing pressure, finally putting her shoulder into the action. The noise was terrific, and the door certainly trembled, but all that came of her efforts was a very sore arm. Galien crossed her arms over her chest furiously and glared at the door, as if she could make it speak up and tell her it's secret.
After several moments a bright look came over the diminutive lady's face. Galien reached out and took hold of the doorhandle and gave it a tug. It pulled open easily and with a jangling step Galien entered the living quarters of the Jedi. She took a moment to pat herself on the back and then tugged at her lopsided tricorn hat, bringing it down over her eyes. The woman began to pace, hands motioning in the air before her oddly.
"Now. If I were a Jedi, an' I 'ad a stash o'swag, where'd I 'ave a mind t' 'ide it?"
She stopped in front of a door, most likely one that led to somebody's apartment, and considered it. Then she shook her head. No, it wasn't likely that they kept piles of treasure in their bedrooms. No, if she had possesion of a fortune, and she lived here, Galien would want to put it where people didn't often go. Somewhere dark. Somewhere deep.
"Th'dungeons then!"
And so with a hop, skip, and a jump, Galien Moss began to look for a turbolift.
CRACK!
From out of the tangles of the plant's branches a dark mass tumbled, landing with a clatter onto one of the paths that ran through the garden. It lay very still for a moment, noting more than a shadowed lump. Then slowly it moved, growing bigger as it rose from the ground.
"Bloody 'ell, 's this a Temple 'r a f'rtress?"
Galien Moss scowled irritably at the plant as she brushed her trousers off, untangled her many necklaces from her scraggly brown hair, and straightened the wide cuffs of her cotton shirt. The woman was a good two inches shorter than the bush, coming in at four foot eleven, and so her hiding place, with all it's cumbersome greenery, had proven to be quite the adversary.
"Where's me boot?!"
Galien looked down at her feet with mild surprise, finding one dwarfed foot clad only in a striped stocking. The tiny woman dropped to her knees with a grunt and crawled about the ground, feeling for her missing footwear. When her hands came upon nothing but dirt and pebbles, Galien sat up, scratching her head in puzzlement. The last place she'd been wearing her boots was right here, in the garden...
Suspiciously the woman crawled back to the bush. The top half of her dissapeared into the branches, and once again the rustling movement of the plant comenced. After a few moments Galien felt the worn leather of her boot, stuck in a little 'v' at the base of the plant. The dark-skinned woman let out a cry of triumph and then grabbed hold of the shoe with both hands. She gave a mighty pull and stumbled backwards, boot in hand, back out and onto the path.
Now thoroughly filthy and covered in sweat Galien re-shoed herself and then stood upright, looking first to the right and then to the left. Her nimble hands rested on her hips, fingering the dangling talismans on her utility belt. There was a good reason why the woman, who had no ties to the Jedi whatsoever, was in their gardens. It all came down to one thing: Treasure.
For years and years the rumors had circulated. Somewhere, in the Jedi Temple no doubt, the lightsabre-weilding lightsiders had mounds of gems and credits and who-knew-what-elses. The wealth had been aquired from various planets, most likely as thanks for the aid the organization provided to the galaxy. No one had ever seen these treasures, mind you, but proof of their existance was still rather obvious. After all, the Jedi were a large group and yet somehow they managed to provide food, clothing, shelter, training supplies, ect, to all among their ranks. Those things were costly.
The question was, where did the Jedi get the credits to pay for those expenses?
The answer, from their swag stash.
Once she had gotten her bearings, Galien swaggered along the path in her hurly-gurly manner. A wicked grin was spread out over the womans face as she imagined herself swimming in piles of credits, wearing a golden crown and sipping the finest wine from a bejewled goblet. So caught up in the fantasy was she, that Galien nearly walked past the Temple and deeper into the gardens. With a start she backtracked, and then dropped to the ground.
On her belly Galien peered at the dimly-lit corridors through the glass of the doors up ahead. She squinted her sparkling brown eyes suspiciously and then slithered forward combat-style. The action really served no purpose; it didn't conceal Galien from sight, nor did it make her quieter. If anything, with her ridiculous amount of necklaces dragging on the ground and clattering against each other, it made her more obvious. However the woman had always been inclined to eccentricities.
When she had triumphantly reached the door Galien stood, very proud of herself. Thus far the exploit hadn't been very difficult. With a cocky chuckle the woman spread her arms against the door and pushed.
The door didn't open.
Puzzled, Galien pushed again, harder. The door shook slightly, echoing in the silence, but didn't move. Surely the Jedi didn't lock up at night!
"Ehh?"
The scallywag kept banging against the door with increasing pressure, finally putting her shoulder into the action. The noise was terrific, and the door certainly trembled, but all that came of her efforts was a very sore arm. Galien crossed her arms over her chest furiously and glared at the door, as if she could make it speak up and tell her it's secret.
After several moments a bright look came over the diminutive lady's face. Galien reached out and took hold of the doorhandle and gave it a tug. It pulled open easily and with a jangling step Galien entered the living quarters of the Jedi. She took a moment to pat herself on the back and then tugged at her lopsided tricorn hat, bringing it down over her eyes. The woman began to pace, hands motioning in the air before her oddly.
"Now. If I were a Jedi, an' I 'ad a stash o'swag, where'd I 'ave a mind t' 'ide it?"
She stopped in front of a door, most likely one that led to somebody's apartment, and considered it. Then she shook her head. No, it wasn't likely that they kept piles of treasure in their bedrooms. No, if she had possesion of a fortune, and she lived here, Galien would want to put it where people didn't often go. Somewhere dark. Somewhere deep.
"Th'dungeons then!"
And so with a hop, skip, and a jump, Galien Moss began to look for a turbolift.