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Note - this build takes place immediately after my Episode XIV build. Saleucami Spaceport Too many people – way too many people here, I’m a sitting nuna, what the hell was Grace thinking, making me wait here in the open? Okay – calm down. If Grace thought the ISB was actively looking for me, she would have picked a better RV – she’s not stupid. Just need to relax, blend in, put a dumb smile on my face like I’m a normal civilian. That’s right, ignore me, I’m just your average ignorant yokel. What Galactic war? Huh? What’s for lunch? There, I make a great civilian. You make a lousy civilian. You need to slouch more. Tyria, what are you doing here? Same thing as you, obviously. Tyria and I had gotten off to a rough start. An ace TIE pilot, she'd been called in on her day off to fly me around Commenor, looking for fugitive ISB agent Goatm An. That flight came to an abrupt end when unknown Imperial forces tried to shoot us down, and after we'd escaped I had a flashback and tried to disarm her. We came to an understanding during our couple of days hiding out on Kuat, though. And by “understanding,” I mean that I apologized profusely and repeatedly, and she promised not to shoot me again unless it was absolutely necessary. Not sure why your friend picked such a crappy planet for the meet, though. Probably because this is my home planet, so I was already here for a visit. Oh. Oops. So, how was your visit? Ok, I guess. I mistook a thunderstorm for incoming – it got a little hectic. I hear that. I’ve been in lockup the past three days. What for? Got into a fight with a constable about whether traffic laws apply to me. Why wouldn’t they? <shrug> ‘Cause I’m really good at flying and – what wrong? I hear the distinctive march of stormtrooper boots a few seconds before they come around the corner. For an instant, I see the troopers the way others must see them. The way others must see me. Skull-like mask, empty eyes, unknowable and unstoppable. Then the moment passes, and I notice all the other details. Lazy formation. Dirty weapons. Half alert, at best. It’s a good thing they’re not here for me – I could draw my blaster and drop at least 2 of them before they got a shot off. They’re not here for me, though. Looks like an escort for some banking clan bigwig. Probably a good call; people here don’t have fond memories of the separatists. One of the first lessons I learned in SpecOps was not to look where everyone else is looking – if something is causing a scene, assume it’s an intentional distraction. The stormtroopers probably aren’t a staged scene but they’re a distraction all the same, so while all other eyes are on the troopers bullying their way down the hall I spot the real danger, gliding through the crowd behind them. It’s nothing a civilian would have spotted. Just two men dressed as mechanics with no visible weapons, but there’s something about them – the way they move, maybe, and the way they scan the hallway – that makes it clear what these men are. They’re killers. Just like me. They notice me at the same time I see them and I tense, waiting for a sign. A gesture from one to the other, or a casual drifting apart, something to indicate that they’re about to draw the weapons I’m sure they’re carrying. Instead, the one with long hair moves his hands away from his sides – just a few inches – and goes back to scanning the crowd. The other one, carrying what looks to be a tool case, nods once without looking at me. Heard you’ve got a mynock problem. I relax a bit more. It’s the recognition code Grace gave us. I’ve got three in the airlock – can you take a look? I can spare a minute. Ship's transponder? Zulu eight four kilo whiskey. Alright, let's go.
LucasLaughing posted a topic in Nar Eurbrikka ArchiveGrace was true to her word, and a few days after completing a "job" for one of her associates I found myself traveling cargo class, leaving the Kuat system hidden in the hold of a merchant vessel whose captain owed Grace a favor. There seemed to be a lot of that going on lately. I assumed she'd be bringing me to her, but she said she wanted a few days to research Agent An, and to see if the ISB had been trying to kill me, specifically, on Commenor, or if I'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. In the meantime, she sent me to the last place I expected: home. My folks had long since moved into Taleucema City, but my sister Alauni, my brother A'den and his husband Lon still managed the family farm I'd grown up on. How long since I've been on the farm? The last time I was here Lon was just A'den's new boyfriend, Alauni was out racing swoops most nights, and I was back from my second tour of duty aboard the Vigilant, taking a week of leave before I was supposed to transfer to a new battle station they were calling the 'Death Star.' Everyone was glad to see me, but it sometimes seemed like there was a kind of distance between us. Like I'd changed so much, that they didn't recognize me all the way anymore. It was good to see them, though. Really good. They joked about how pale I'd gotten, and only half believed me when I protested that most of my jobs took place at night, or required a helmet. I joked about how they were uncultured dirt farmers that were already turning into our parents. They did not joke about how I now carry a blaster with me at all times. They did not joke about how the first crack of thunder, from the daily storms that occur during the wet season, sent me diving to the ground, eyes darting wildly while I tried to determine where the artillery was coming from. They did not joke about how long it took me to stop shaking after that...