Join Date: Jul 2006
Location: hhhmmm....where do I live?...I cant remember!
"I know you're not a Blackheart," came a sudden voice from around the corner. He had already lifted his right hand and was in a throwing position, but paused as he saw the woman who had her gun trained on him. He had already hesitated, and fighting an opponent with a gun was something you could not hesitate in, he closed his eyes, waiting to feel the pain of a bullet breaking skin, muscle and bone...but nothing happened.
"You don't have the uniform and quite frankly, they don't recruit as young as you." The woman continued, as he peeked his eye open to see her arms held open to show she meant no harm. He still had his cleaver ready, he pondered for a moment, he'd had women talk to him before, he'd even had people do the same thing she was doing, showing they meant no harm.
But they had lied, they had been "collectors", folks who were meant to coerce others into believing them, and then taking them to the aliens. He'd killed without questioning himself before, what was so different now? Then again, she had the opportunity to kill him the moment she came around that corner, but she didn't, most Blackhearts, collectors or not, would have taken the shot rather than the pain of talking.
"You could use some help and I have a bit of medical knowledge. Let me help you." She continued, he flinched as her words brought back a recent memory, he paused, then decided not even a second afterwards. He hurled the cleaver, it went through the air like a axe or hatchet might. But it fell short, landing only a quarter of a foot away from her, between her feet, lodging soundly inbetween the cracks of two tiles, vibrating slightly and making a light ringing sound.
He had a distastful combination of distrust, disdain, and discust on his face as he hobbled forward for a couple feet towards the lady, then turned to his right and opened a door.
He hobbled into the staff lounge and sat down on the leather cushioned seat where his stuff lay intact. Beside the seat could be seen a vending machine, it's contents could be seen through a gaping 'wound' where he had hacked it open.
"But in you...I see the potential to see the Force die, to turn away from its will..."
"You are beautiful to me, exile. A dead spot in the Force, an emptiness in which its will might be denied."
"But no Jedi ever made the choice you did. To sever ties so completely, so utterly, that it leaves a wound in the Force..."
"I would have killed the galaxy to preserve you...You are more precious than you know..."-now...it's verbatim!-A quote from Darth Traya (Kreia)