| abstract | - Alois sits atop a series of crates near his Lambda, the Corellian Hope, his eyes set on the starport around him. He's all too familiar with this port, and navigating it does not provide any serious problems for him. He takes in the faces of all those who pass by, to and from, going about their daily lives. Corellia was definitely a melting pot, one about to tip over and unleash who knows what upon the Empire and the galaxy. Alois intends to be at the center of it all and do what he must to achieve his goals. As a gust of wind blows by, Alois's eye catch someone in particular. To many, he's just like every other man on Corellia. To Alois, though, he's a former Master Sergeant in the Imperial Stormtrooper Legions and a one-time Royal Guardsman, the protectors of the Emperor. Maethor, here, on Imperial territory? Perhaps his reputation was true, after all. The temptation was too much for Alois to resist. Stepping down from the crates, Alois lands on the surface of the starport and begins to follow after Maethor. He may be crazy, but he is definietly looking forward to a test of strength against one of the Emperor's Royal Guards. All Alois does is grin and plot his next move as he keeps his eyes on Maethor. Maethor casually meanders his way off a Planetary shuttle. Having retired from Imperial service, the former Stormtrooper slings his bag over his bag, heading towards the CorSec station, humming idly to himself as he threads his way through the crowd, hardly paying attention to the multitude of beings present. Maethor seemed unassuming enough, and likely had no idea he was being followed. Or so Alois hopes. Alois has no real plan from here on in; he's just going to go with the flow, get his adrenaline running, and maybe get a thrill or two out of it. Not everyday one gets to confrot a Royal Guardsman, after all. Besides, if Maethor proved his worth to Alois, perhaps he could be useful to Alois's mission. Alois, however, knew he was in for a tough fight; Maethor was a Royal Guardsman, after all, and he was a good twenty or so years younger than Alois. But Alois shoved that aside for now; he wasn't going to worry about it. Irrelevant. Letting out a sigh, he steps up a few feet behind Maethor, extending his left hand and gently tapping Maethor on his left shoulder. If Maethor turns around, he'll be greeted by Alois's right hand, in a fist, and heading straight towards Maethor's face. Whether or not he hits, or even if Maethor reacts in the way Alois intends, is all up in the air in these precious split seconds. Whichever may happen, though, the fight is on. Maethor is a bit out of practice these days it seems. As he turns, he feels the closeness of Alois's fist, wriggling his body to the right in a skillfull evaision. Stormtroopers rarely pay fairly, and Maethor is no different, rising up quickly, his heavy blaster held in his right hand, leveled at Alois's mid-section, "Best be on your way." he glares. The drawing of a pistol in the Spaceport raises a few eyebrows, attracting the attention of some CorSec officers. They know who the Sergeant is, at least vaguely, and so they remain out of the picture for now, simply stepping closer, not wanting to interfere as the engagement hasn't escalated yet. Maethor reels backwards, the dagger slashing through the air, cutting into his leg and leaving a rather nasty gash. The Sergeant is quick on the trigger, leveling his heavy blaster at his assailant and firing a quick snap-shot, just like on the range. As the knife is bared, and the single shot reigns out, the CorSec agents rush forwards, weapons drawn and pointed at the pair, they mean business. Alois draws blood, and his little athletic stunt seems to have pulled off as well - but Alois underestimated the Guardsman's abilities. The quick counter-attack from the blaster finds its mark on Alois as he recovers from his roll, hitting him squarely in his left leg. As the pain shoots up his leg, Alois leans against a nearby stack of crates and replaces his vibroknife back in his hiding spot. "Relying on a firearm, I see! I thought you Guardsman had more honor than that." Wincing from the pain in his leg, he knew he could carry the fight on a little longer, as he was now more or less on an equal footing with the Guardsman in terms of damage. He considers his next method of attack, but before he can do anything trouble is afoot. CorSec is on its way to ruin the party. "No fun..." Grabbing a round cylinder on his belt, Alois deattaches it from his belt and tosses it over the side of the crate where Maethor and the CorSec guards were coming from. It should stall the guards long enough for him to make a clean get-away. He waits before the flash grenade detonates before taking off in a limp-run towards his escape vector. Part of Royal Guard training consists of resistance training. Stun grenades hardly seem to affect the man, his aim just as sure as ever. As women begin to scream, the crowd dispersing quickly, diving to the ground as the grenade goes off, leaving the former Guardsman with a nice and wide field of fire. As if he were back on the range, he levers his pistol on the scrambling assailant, flicking the selector switch to stun, firing another shot. The spaceport, the ideal tranquil spot, has now been disturbed by one, if not two combatants. Weapons drawn, shot and grenades let loose seem to alert everyone that there is definetly something a miss. Alas, even though both figures are probably caught on camera through holo-emitters and even bystandards, Corsec is no where to be seen. That is to say, until they get off their lazy bums. Siren's can be heard from all over the place - every direction. It would seem that since the spaceport has seen attacks in it 3 times in the last 2 months, all of these attacks major and involving Grenades, it would seem that the place is bristling with Security - to the naked eye it would only appear that 20 corsec guards will be responding in less then a round - ofcourse, that's just the naked eye. The flash bang apparently did not have the desired effect Alois had hoped for. Shots were still screaming his way from Maethor. But as he turned his head to look behind, Maethor wasn't persuing, just standing where he was. At this rate, Alois would be out of his visual range before long - and would find cover in the dark streets of Bottom's End. But he couldn't discount CorSec, either; fortunately he had the upperhand. They had no real visual ID, other than what he may be wearing, and, of course, Bottom's End would provide a nice hiding place. But, to make things harder for everyone, Maethor and CorSec included, Alois decides to draw out yet another weapon in his arsenal. As he continues his run, he lets a gas grenade drop from his hand, primed and ready to detonate. If the flash bang did not work to lose himself in the crowd, then the gas cover would surely do the job. At least, until the gas dispersed. But by then, hopefully Alois would be long enough away. Maethor isn't really one to let a street urchin just scramble away. The man lurches into motion, ignoring the screaming crowd as he moves after the man, weaving his way around the incapacitated citizens, ignoring their cries of pain as their ears bleed and eyes sting. He closes his mouth as he stumbles through the cloud of gas, emerging on the other side to search for his assailant, looking for the obvious path he chose through the crowd, seeing if any citizens will point him towards the fleeing criminal. Another look behind his shoulder and Alois sees Maethor now running after him. Despite Maethor's deep wound to his knee, the soldier was still running after him and plowing straight through his gas screen. Muttering, Alois decides it was time to make a stand. He was in Bottom's End, now, and the area wasn't an open as it was before. Taking cover behind food crates, Alois brandishes his riot gun, the HM-100. It packed quite a punch, one that would hopefully end this before it got worse. Taking aim as he leans out from behind the crates, Alois levels the HM-100 on Maethor and fires off a shot. It wasn't a lethal shot, of course; it was purely a stun rifle, after all. Alois didn't exactly want to kill Maethor, either. But it would do for now. If Maethor continued, he would have to resort to other means. Maethor emerges from the cloud of gas, entering the streets. He looks up the street towards the Bottoms End, turning to look the other way, though catching sight of the incomming bolt out of his peripheral vision. The Man stumbles backwards, ducking behind a parked landspeeder, leaning around the corner to fire back at the man. Four CorSec agents emerge behind Maethor, seeing him knelt behind a speeder, firing up the street, it dosen't take them long to deduce the situation. The Agents join Maethor for the time being, firing up the street towards Alois. The blaster bolt from Maethor rings out and impacts against Alois's right arm; he's lucky that he's wearing the blast vest, as it absorbs most of the damage and leaves Alois with a numbing senstation in his arm. He was growing tired of this game with Maethor; he was considering pulling out the big boys to deal with him. He wanted to avoid killing him, as he was useful, but Maethor was too thick-headed to give up the pursuit. Sighing, Alois ducks for cover behind his crates and deattaches his thermal detonator from his utility belt. He doesn't bother to take careful aim with it; in the cramped conditions they were in, and the fact that a thermal's blast radius was rather massive, perfect aim didn't seem to matter much. At best, it would vaporize Maethor and his cadre. At worst, it would create a rather nice mess that would send Maethor and his men scrambling as Alois made a clean get-away, and the resulting destruction would make future pursuit difficult if not delayed indefinitely. "Should have just gave up, Maethor!" he says as the thermal is released from his grip and sent flying in Maethor's general direction. Alois doesn't turn to see it land: he's running down an alley, running as fast as he can to get away and safe his own skin. Maethor leans around the corner, seeing the tiny little device lobbed in his general direction. It dosen't take much to get him to roll across the sidewalk, re-entering the Spaceport as the thermal detonator goes off, shattering the city, literally, sending a jarring concussion for miles in every direction. The explosion tears a hole several dozen meters in diameter, hurling flames in every direction, landspeeders being enveloped in flames. Innocent lives are snuffed out as the thermal detonator incinerates a chunk of the neighborhood, a portion of the outer spaceport walls crumbling to the floor. Talk about overkill.
- Alois sits atop a series of crates near his Lambda, the Corellian Hope, his eyes set on the starport around him. He's all too familiar with this port, and navigating it does not provide any serious problems for him. He takes in the faces of all those who pass by, to and from, going about their daily lives. Corellia was definitely a melting pot, one about to tip over and unleash who knows what upon the Empire and the galaxy. Alois intends to be at the center of it all and do what he must to achieve his goals. As a gust of wind blows by, Alois's eye catch someone in particular. To many, he's just like every other man on Corellia. To Alois, though, he's a former Master Sergeant in the Imperial Stormtrooper Legions and a one-time Royal Guardsman, the protectors of the Emperor. Maethor, here, on Imperial territory? Perhaps his reputation was true, after all. The temptation was too much for Alois to resist. Stepping down from the crates, Alois lands on the surface of the starport and begins to follow after Maethor. He may be crazy, but he is definietly looking forward to a test of strength against one of the Emperor's Royal Guards. All Alois does is grin and plot his next move as he keeps his eyes on Maethor. Maethor casually meanders his way off a Planetary shuttle. Having retired from Imperial service, the former Stormtrooper slings his bag over his bag, heading towards the CorSec station, humming idly to himself as he threads his way through the crowd, hardly paying attention to the multitude of beings present. Maethor seemed unassuming enough, and likely had no idea he was being followed. Or so Alois hopes. Alois has no real plan from here on in; he's just going to go with the flow, get his adrenaline running, and maybe get a thrill or two out of it. Not everyday one gets to confrot a Royal Guardsman, after all. Besides, if Maethor proved his worth to Alois, perhaps he could be useful to Alois's mission. Alois, however, knew he was in for a tough fight; Maethor was a Royal Guardsman, after all, and he was a good twenty or so years younger than Alois. But Alois shoved that aside for now; he wasn't going to worry about it. Irrelevant. Letting out a sigh, he steps up a few feet behind Maethor, extending his left hand and gently tapping Maethor on his left shoulder. If Maethor turns around, he'll be greeted by Alois's right hand, in a fist, and heading straight towards Maethor's face. Whether or not he hits, or even if Maethor reacts in the way Alois intends, is all up in the air in these precious split seconds. Whichever may happen, though, the fight is on. Maethor is a bit out of practice these days it seems. As he turns, he feels the closeness of Alois's fist, wriggling his body to the right in a skillfull evaision. Stormtroopers rarely pay fairly, and Maethor is no different, rising up quickly, his heavy blaster held in his right hand, leveled at Alois's mid-section, "Best be on your way." he glares. The drawing of a pistol in the Spaceport raises a few eyebrows, attracting the attention of some CorSec officers. They know who the Sergeant is, at least vaguely, and so they remain out of the picture for now, simply stepping closer, not wanting to interfere as the engagement hasn't escalated yet. Maethor reels backwards, the dagger slashing through the air, cutting into his leg and leaving a rather nasty gash. The Sergeant is quick on the trigger, leveling his heavy blaster at his assailant and firing a quick snap-shot, just like on the range. As the knife is bared, and the single shot reigns out, the CorSec agents rush forwards, weapons drawn and pointed at the pair, they mean business. Alois draws blood, and his little athletic stunt seems to have pulled off as well - but Alois underestimated the Guardsman's abilities. The quick counter-attack from the blaster finds its mark on Alois as he recovers from his roll, hitting him squarely in his left leg. As the pain shoots up his leg, Alois leans against a nearby stack of crates and replaces his vibroknife back in his hiding spot. "Relying on a firearm, I see! I thought you Guardsman had more honor than that." Wincing from the pain in his leg, he knew he could carry the fight on a little longer, as he was now more or less on an equal footing with the Guardsman in terms of damage. He considers his next method of attack, but before he can do anything trouble is afoot. CorSec is on its way to ruin the party. "No fun..." Grabbing a round cylinder on his belt, Alois deattaches it from his belt and tosses it over the side of the crate where Maethor and the CorSec guards were coming from. It should stall the guards long enough for him to make a clean get-away. He waits before the flash grenade detonates before taking off in a limp-run towards his escape vector. Part of Royal Guard training consists of resistance training. Stun grenades hardly seem to affect the man, his aim just as sure as ever. As women begin to scream, the crowd dispersing quickly, diving to the ground as the grenade goes off, leaving the former Guardsman with a nice and wide field of fire. As if he were back on the range, he levers his pistol on the scrambling assailant, flicking the selector switch to stun, firing another shot. The spaceport, the ideal tranquil spot, has now been disturbed by one, if not two combatants. Weapons drawn, shot and grenades let loose seem to alert everyone that there is definetly something a miss. Alas, even though both figures are probably caught on camera through holo-emitters and even bystandards, Corsec is no where to be seen. That is to say, until they get off their lazy bums. Siren's can be heard from all over the place - every direction. It would seem that since the spaceport has seen attacks in it 3 times in the last 2 months, all of these attacks major and involving Grenades, it would seem that the place is bristling with Security - to the naked eye it would only appear that 20 corsec guards will be responding in less then a round - ofcourse, that's just the naked eye. The flash bang apparently did not have the desired effect Alois had hoped for. Shots were still screaming his way from Maethor. But as he turned his head to look behind, Maethor wasn't persuing, just standing where he was. At this rate, Alois would be out of his visual range before long - and would find cover in the dark streets of Bottom's End. But he couldn't discount CorSec, either; fortunately he had the upperhand. They had no real visual ID, other than what he may be wearing, and, of course, Bottom's End would provide a nice hiding place. But, to make things harder for everyone, Maethor and CorSec included, Alois decides to draw out yet another weapon in his arsenal. As he continues his run, he lets a gas grenade drop from his hand, primed and ready to detonate. If the flash bang did not work to lose himself in the crowd, then the gas cover would surely do the job. At least, until the gas dispersed. But by then, hopefully Alois would be long enough away. Maethor isn't really one to let a street urchin just scramble away. The man lurches into motion, ignoring the screaming crowd as he moves after the man, weaving his way around the incapacitated citizens, ignoring their cries of pain as their ears bleed and eyes sting. He closes his mouth as he stumbles through the cloud of gas, emerging on the other side to search for his assailant, looking for the obvious path he chose through the crowd, seeing if any citizens will point him towards the fleeing criminal. Another look behind his shoulder and Alois sees Maethor now running after him. Despite Maethor's deep wound to his knee, the soldier was still running after him and plowing straight through his gas screen. Muttering, Alois decides it was time to make a stand. He was in Bottom's End, now, and the area wasn't an open as it was before. Taking cover behind food crates, Alois brandishes his riot gun, the HM-100. It packed quite a punch, one that would hopefully end this before it got worse. Taking aim as he leans out from behind the crates, Alois levels the HM-100 on Maethor and fires off a shot. It wasn't a lethal shot, of course; it was purely a stun rifle, after all. Alois didn't exactly want to kill Maethor, either. But it would do for now. If Maethor continued, he would have to resort to other means. Maethor emerges from the cloud of gas, entering the streets. He looks up the street towards the Bottoms End, turning to look the other way, though catching sight of the incomming bolt out of his peripheral vision. The Man stumbles backwards, ducking behind a parked landspeeder, leaning around the corner to fire back at the man. Four CorSec agents emerge behind Maethor, seeing him knelt behind a speeder, firing up the street, it dosen't take them long to deduce the situation. The Agents join Maethor for the time being, firing up the street towards Alois. The blaster bolt from Maethor rings out and impacts against Alois's right arm; he's lucky that he's wearing the blast vest, as it absorbs most of the damage and leaves Alois with a numbing senstation in his arm. He was growing tired of this game with Maethor; he was considering pulling out the big boys to deal with him. He wanted to avoid killing him, as he was useful, but Maethor was too thick-headed to give up the pursuit. Sighing, Alois ducks for cover behind his crates and deattaches his thermal detonator from his utility belt. He doesn't bother to take careful aim with it; in the cramped conditions they were in, and the fact that a thermal's blast radius was rather massive, perfect aim didn't seem to matter much. At best, it would vaporize Maethor and his cadre. At worst, it would create a rather nice mess that would send Maethor and his men scrambling as Alois made a clean get-away, and the resulting destruction would make future pursuit difficult if not delayed indefinitely. "Should have just gave up, Maethor!" he says as the thermal is released from his grip and sent flying in Maethor's general direction. Alois doesn't turn to see it land: he's running down an alley, running as fast as he can to get away and safe his own skin. Maethor leans around the corner, seeing the tiny little device lobbed in his general direction. It dosen't take much to get him to roll across the sidewalk, re-entering the Spaceport as the thermal detonator goes off, shattering the city, literally, sending a jarring concussion for miles in every direction. The explosion tears a hole several dozen meters in diameter, hurling flames in every direction, landspeeders being enveloped in flames. Innocent lives are snuffed out as the thermal detonator incinerates a chunk of the neighborhood, a portion of the outer spaceport walls crumbling to the floor. Talk about overkill. From SW1ki, a Wikia wiki.
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