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Mar. 31st, 2006 07:30 pmFake Czerka ID? Check.
Plenty of money stolen from ID-maker? Check check.
It was just finding the door that was a problem. He had come out into a large fuel-manufacturing plant that opened out onto a garage and was, he thought, liable to blow up at any time. He was in the garage, but he couldn’t find the door. They were all unmarked, and he very much doubted they would have marked one ‘Milliways.’
There was a soft thud of feet behind him. He’d grown used to those feet.
“Oh,” He turned around, reaching for his lightsaber. ”You.”
“Me.” The Dark Jedi replied, in that lilting, Alderaani accent.
“Y’know, if you told me your name, this would be a lot easier.”
“... Why would I tell you my name?”
“Because calling you ‘you’ is so confrontational, don’t you think?” Atton leaned against a column, giving the Dark Jedi a bright grin.
“Atton, we’re trying to kill each other. Confrontation is sort of a given.”
“Point taken.”
There was a snap, a hiss and a stench of ozone as two lightsabers ignited.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to just ... leave me be? Maybe?”
“... Just be quiet now, Atton.”
Before Atton knew what was happening, a bolt of lightning had hit him in the chest.
* * * * *
The thought that kept entering Atton’s head as he leapt from fuel cannister to fuel cannister was that his shirt was practically red with blood, and he couldn’t figure out who it belonged to.
You’d think a battle where the lightsaber was the main weapon would be less messy.
He landed on the floor of the garage (or was it a fuel-containment area? Atton couldn’t tell), his lightsaber hanging down by his side as he cast his mind out for the Dark Jedi. He couldn’t sense anything.
An armoured fist rammed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him as there was a flare of static, a flicker of haze and the grating noise of a stealth field disengaging.
“That’s cheating.” He protested weakly, before a well-placed kick sent him tumbling to the floor, lightsaber clattering off to the side.
Lack of villainous taunting and laughter meant he didn’t have much time to think of a plan.
He swung one hand, sending the Dark Jedi flying backwards and hopped to his feet, calling the lightsaber to his hand and tossing it upwards. Propelled by the Force, it continued up and up.
Atton didn’t look at the Dark Jedi or the lightsaber. He ran for the speeders, leaping into one and blasting out of the garage at top speed.
It wasn’t long until he felt a flicker against his mind that felt a lot like fuel igniting.
He was barely thirty metres away when the entire building and the ones on either side of it were engulfed in a bright flash of flame.
A few minutes later, he landed and shoved open the door to an upmarket apartment building.
Plenty of money stolen from ID-maker? Check check.
It was just finding the door that was a problem. He had come out into a large fuel-manufacturing plant that opened out onto a garage and was, he thought, liable to blow up at any time. He was in the garage, but he couldn’t find the door. They were all unmarked, and he very much doubted they would have marked one ‘Milliways.’
There was a soft thud of feet behind him. He’d grown used to those feet.
“Oh,” He turned around, reaching for his lightsaber. ”You.”
“Me.” The Dark Jedi replied, in that lilting, Alderaani accent.
“Y’know, if you told me your name, this would be a lot easier.”
“... Why would I tell you my name?”
“Because calling you ‘you’ is so confrontational, don’t you think?” Atton leaned against a column, giving the Dark Jedi a bright grin.
“Atton, we’re trying to kill each other. Confrontation is sort of a given.”
“Point taken.”
There was a snap, a hiss and a stench of ozone as two lightsabers ignited.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to just ... leave me be? Maybe?”
“... Just be quiet now, Atton.”
Before Atton knew what was happening, a bolt of lightning had hit him in the chest.
* * * * *
The thought that kept entering Atton’s head as he leapt from fuel cannister to fuel cannister was that his shirt was practically red with blood, and he couldn’t figure out who it belonged to.
You’d think a battle where the lightsaber was the main weapon would be less messy.
He landed on the floor of the garage (or was it a fuel-containment area? Atton couldn’t tell), his lightsaber hanging down by his side as he cast his mind out for the Dark Jedi. He couldn’t sense anything.
An armoured fist rammed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him as there was a flare of static, a flicker of haze and the grating noise of a stealth field disengaging.
“That’s cheating.” He protested weakly, before a well-placed kick sent him tumbling to the floor, lightsaber clattering off to the side.
Lack of villainous taunting and laughter meant he didn’t have much time to think of a plan.
He swung one hand, sending the Dark Jedi flying backwards and hopped to his feet, calling the lightsaber to his hand and tossing it upwards. Propelled by the Force, it continued up and up.
Atton didn’t look at the Dark Jedi or the lightsaber. He ran for the speeders, leaping into one and blasting out of the garage at top speed.
It wasn’t long until he felt a flicker against his mind that felt a lot like fuel igniting.
He was barely thirty metres away when the entire building and the ones on either side of it were engulfed in a bright flash of flame.
A few minutes later, he landed and shoved open the door to an upmarket apartment building.
