Post by Enelya Kenobi on May 31, 2004 7:03:02 GMT -5
Calliste swept down the landing platform, habit made her look over her shoulder peering around for the signs of anyone following her. She smiled at her own neurosis; for once there wasn’t anyone there. She pulled the sandy cloak a little tighter around herself, tightened her grip on the bag and walked a little quicker.
She had tried very hard to scratch the Happen insignia from the side of her fighter, “Star Harmony” but it was still blatantly obvious. It was a small craft and not in anyway special just a typical Delta-4 but her father had modified it to include a reclaimed Arfour unit. The hyperdrive ring was a patchwork of differing shades of metal, were it had been repaired many times over the years; the dull brown of the battle dragons and the slate grey of x-wings and head hunters.
She cringed inwardly as the natives came out to inspect the craft, but immediately rebuked herself. Sure it was shabby but it was the perfect fighter for someone like her. For Calliste was a Jedi, not one of those trained on the new academy on Yavin, small as it was, but trained by a master, her father. She had known that her father didn’t love her mother, not a physical way at least just as her mother didn’t love her father, she had accepted that long ago. When she was older her father Harim had told her that when the Empires pogroms were taking place, any one with even the slightest force ability, even untrained, if they were unmarried, the Empire assumed they were Jedi and had them killed, so he had fled to Hapes and married Calliste's mother.
Calliste's mother was sister to the ageing Queen Mother, her name was Zachia, and she had married Harim even though her family had been dead set against it, that opinion soon changed when Harim gave her a daughter on the first try. Her mother had hoped that while Isolder remained unmarried Calliste might still inherit the throne, and Zachia was furious when he had brought home Talenial after the debacle on Dathomir. But Calliste had been happy for them, Isolder deserved to be happy and she had no wish to be Queen. In fact she hated every aspect of court life, when she was young her father would take her on long rambles through the country side on Saylab and explain to her all the ways of the Jedi, she knew she was something special, she had a Jedi for a father, in that respect she had a lot in common with Luke, who was hailed the only true master left.
She rememb3red the long hours spent in the ruins of the old temple of Asof, practising with her light sabre until the dusk settled and she was forced to race home crimson faced, her practise clothes hidden beneath her dress. She also rememb3red her mother’s confusion when her father died, despite their closeness Calliste had not cried. She had known better than to cry, it would be to give in to the despair she felt and stop fighting it, she also knew her father could still visit her in dreams and in a vague celestial form, semi-transparent like a reflection on a rippling lake.
It had been in this dream like state that Harim had told his daughter to go to Coruscant and find Luke Skywalker. It was finally time for the Jedi to be properly resurrected, that included the secret counsel holo-vids that not even Jocastu Nu, the keeper of the Jedi Hall of Records knew of. So she had ran away from Hapes, from her duties as ambassador and her mother’s tight rein.
She stood on the gantry of the shuttle bay, the next shuttle would take her directly to the old imperial palace, or so the information droid had told her. She didn’t like this city, it was too dark and crowded, Saylab was beautiful, wide meadows and endless plains of wisdom trees, which took the planet's name. A burst of foul smelling air hit her like a slap in the face as she stepped aboard the shuttle along side a Rodean and a Vupltereen in his high-tech body suit. Their curiosity turned on her, it was not often a women entered the underworld of the city she let the force flow redirecting their curiosity letting it flow back into them, and she breathed a little easier.
The shuttle slowly emptied as they left the underbelly of the city for the more spacious surrounds of upper Coruscant. There was little change in the colour of the city; the sky was still an inky black but the lights and holo-boards bearing advertisements gave everything a sickly yellow tinge. There was no denying that the palace was an impressive structure, it’s statues to fallen Emperial heroes stood like giant sentiants waiting for the first sign of subterfuge or rebellion, she smiled and drawled sarcastically in her own head, pity that hadn’t worked.
She had only known one entrance to the palace, the official one used by dignitaries and people of state, she passed the threshold now and no sooner had she done so but 2, 501-Z police droids and Cz secretary droid rolled up highly agitated and barred her way.
“I am C3F5, you do not possess security clearance turn back.” He barked in his digitised voice.
“Please” she answered “I am looking for a job, do you know were I should go?”<br>The droid was clearly ruffled by this question; most people who tried to barge in through this door tried to convince him they were dignitaries of a hither to unknown planet.
“Down there” he pointed to a landing platform a few stories down, jutting out from the side of the building.
“Thank you” she turned and swept away, leaving the droid frozen at her back, unable to compute what had just happened.
She had mounted the air lift which would take her down, when her senses exploded with warning, she span around looking for the rouble, and the whole scene went straight to hell. Behind her, the Corellian general, Gon Beliballis, had just passed through the doors when an air speeder loaded with 3 black clad men swerved sharply and opened fire. The general fell to avoid the shots, but Cally was already moving, her blade flying free from its quick release holster at her side and igniting in her hand. Her cowl still drawn she weaved a defensive pattern with her light sabre. A single leap took her to the fallen general and another saw her landing on the front of the speeder. A single blow struck of the head of the driver, the second she dealt with in the same way. The third turned his weapon on her and fired several rounds in quick succession, she deflected them back in his face, and he rose in agony, and fell screaming into oblivion down to the traffic below.
The out of control speeder gyrated wildly in the air, leaping back onto the plat form she turned and ran. She had blown her own cover even before she had begun. She leapt over the end on the dais, and used the force to slow her descent she grabbed onto a dais a level lower than her starting point. Throwing off the cloak and rearranging her cloths to cover her now deactivated lightsabre she hurried inside the doors, which closed with a soft whoosh behind her.
Belibalis was picking himself up after the attack when he saw his rescuer dive over the end on the platform. By the time he had scrambled to his feet and ran to the end of the platform, he was whipped in the face by a sandy cloak, buffeted by the slipstream of passing speeders. Holding it tightly he peered desperately for the enigmatic figure it belonged to, but it was gone. Turning on his heel, still holding the cloak, he went back through the open door, leaving the aid to assemble his wits and follow him later.
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She had tried very hard to scratch the Happen insignia from the side of her fighter, “Star Harmony” but it was still blatantly obvious. It was a small craft and not in anyway special just a typical Delta-4 but her father had modified it to include a reclaimed Arfour unit. The hyperdrive ring was a patchwork of differing shades of metal, were it had been repaired many times over the years; the dull brown of the battle dragons and the slate grey of x-wings and head hunters.
She cringed inwardly as the natives came out to inspect the craft, but immediately rebuked herself. Sure it was shabby but it was the perfect fighter for someone like her. For Calliste was a Jedi, not one of those trained on the new academy on Yavin, small as it was, but trained by a master, her father. She had known that her father didn’t love her mother, not a physical way at least just as her mother didn’t love her father, she had accepted that long ago. When she was older her father Harim had told her that when the Empires pogroms were taking place, any one with even the slightest force ability, even untrained, if they were unmarried, the Empire assumed they were Jedi and had them killed, so he had fled to Hapes and married Calliste's mother.
Calliste's mother was sister to the ageing Queen Mother, her name was Zachia, and she had married Harim even though her family had been dead set against it, that opinion soon changed when Harim gave her a daughter on the first try. Her mother had hoped that while Isolder remained unmarried Calliste might still inherit the throne, and Zachia was furious when he had brought home Talenial after the debacle on Dathomir. But Calliste had been happy for them, Isolder deserved to be happy and she had no wish to be Queen. In fact she hated every aspect of court life, when she was young her father would take her on long rambles through the country side on Saylab and explain to her all the ways of the Jedi, she knew she was something special, she had a Jedi for a father, in that respect she had a lot in common with Luke, who was hailed the only true master left.
She rememb3red the long hours spent in the ruins of the old temple of Asof, practising with her light sabre until the dusk settled and she was forced to race home crimson faced, her practise clothes hidden beneath her dress. She also rememb3red her mother’s confusion when her father died, despite their closeness Calliste had not cried. She had known better than to cry, it would be to give in to the despair she felt and stop fighting it, she also knew her father could still visit her in dreams and in a vague celestial form, semi-transparent like a reflection on a rippling lake.
It had been in this dream like state that Harim had told his daughter to go to Coruscant and find Luke Skywalker. It was finally time for the Jedi to be properly resurrected, that included the secret counsel holo-vids that not even Jocastu Nu, the keeper of the Jedi Hall of Records knew of. So she had ran away from Hapes, from her duties as ambassador and her mother’s tight rein.
She stood on the gantry of the shuttle bay, the next shuttle would take her directly to the old imperial palace, or so the information droid had told her. She didn’t like this city, it was too dark and crowded, Saylab was beautiful, wide meadows and endless plains of wisdom trees, which took the planet's name. A burst of foul smelling air hit her like a slap in the face as she stepped aboard the shuttle along side a Rodean and a Vupltereen in his high-tech body suit. Their curiosity turned on her, it was not often a women entered the underworld of the city she let the force flow redirecting their curiosity letting it flow back into them, and she breathed a little easier.
The shuttle slowly emptied as they left the underbelly of the city for the more spacious surrounds of upper Coruscant. There was little change in the colour of the city; the sky was still an inky black but the lights and holo-boards bearing advertisements gave everything a sickly yellow tinge. There was no denying that the palace was an impressive structure, it’s statues to fallen Emperial heroes stood like giant sentiants waiting for the first sign of subterfuge or rebellion, she smiled and drawled sarcastically in her own head, pity that hadn’t worked.
She had only known one entrance to the palace, the official one used by dignitaries and people of state, she passed the threshold now and no sooner had she done so but 2, 501-Z police droids and Cz secretary droid rolled up highly agitated and barred her way.
“I am C3F5, you do not possess security clearance turn back.” He barked in his digitised voice.
“Please” she answered “I am looking for a job, do you know were I should go?”<br>The droid was clearly ruffled by this question; most people who tried to barge in through this door tried to convince him they were dignitaries of a hither to unknown planet.
“Down there” he pointed to a landing platform a few stories down, jutting out from the side of the building.
“Thank you” she turned and swept away, leaving the droid frozen at her back, unable to compute what had just happened.
She had mounted the air lift which would take her down, when her senses exploded with warning, she span around looking for the rouble, and the whole scene went straight to hell. Behind her, the Corellian general, Gon Beliballis, had just passed through the doors when an air speeder loaded with 3 black clad men swerved sharply and opened fire. The general fell to avoid the shots, but Cally was already moving, her blade flying free from its quick release holster at her side and igniting in her hand. Her cowl still drawn she weaved a defensive pattern with her light sabre. A single leap took her to the fallen general and another saw her landing on the front of the speeder. A single blow struck of the head of the driver, the second she dealt with in the same way. The third turned his weapon on her and fired several rounds in quick succession, she deflected them back in his face, and he rose in agony, and fell screaming into oblivion down to the traffic below.
The out of control speeder gyrated wildly in the air, leaping back onto the plat form she turned and ran. She had blown her own cover even before she had begun. She leapt over the end on the dais, and used the force to slow her descent she grabbed onto a dais a level lower than her starting point. Throwing off the cloak and rearranging her cloths to cover her now deactivated lightsabre she hurried inside the doors, which closed with a soft whoosh behind her.
Belibalis was picking himself up after the attack when he saw his rescuer dive over the end on the platform. By the time he had scrambled to his feet and ran to the end of the platform, he was whipped in the face by a sandy cloak, buffeted by the slipstream of passing speeders. Holding it tightly he peered desperately for the enigmatic figure it belonged to, but it was gone. Turning on his heel, still holding the cloak, he went back through the open door, leaving the aid to assemble his wits and follow him later.
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