@The Muse Are you alright with me creating some NPC’s? I’m thinking a realtor for one, not to mention some other local flavour Patrick is certain to run in to.
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Patrick Carson
Patrick was not usually a fan of Audi but he had to admit that the Q7 was a nice piece of hardware. It was a tad flashier then he would have liked but with ski season in full swing, the only rental cars left for a last second rental were the expensive ones, and he sure as shit wasn't going to drive a Bentley.
As he had climbed out of Denver and into the mountains he had felt an almost instant sense of peace and tranquility. There was something special about the Rockies and had always loved it when work took him that way. This was his first time in the Denver area however and he had been glued to the window as his plane descended into the airport. Only when it had rolled up private side of the airfield had be pulled his gaze away.
He told the pilots to take a couple days in town, ordered his personal secretary to do some shopping, and then rented the car himself. He had a single travel bag and his camera bag; he had never given up on photography. He shifted slightly in the heated seat, rolled back his shoulders, and pushed the accelerator down.
Siri didn't steer him wrong as her dutifully loyal British accent guided him down the highway. He whipped through curves with ease, the countryside flashing past him, slowly fading away at the rain came down.
Rain? Likely a Chinook. Probably why my heads been hurting since I landed. He was also squinting despite the darkening sky and decided maybe now was the time to slow down.
The town came into view, nestled in a small bowl amid towering forested peaks and the first glance was enough for him to see the appeal, and opportunity, in such a place. He slowed at he approached the town and allowed Siri to navigate him toward the only real hotel(ish) place in town, the Foxhole Tavern.
The Audi purred into the parking lot and he paused to look around. The were a number of large trucks and a couple smaller vehicles, none of them even remotely as new as his rental. Nothing for it then.
He climbed from the car, locked the door, and took the stairs to the front door two at a time. The building was remarkably interesting, rambling a fair bit, and it reminded him of the main Ranch house where he had grown up. A bit of nostalgia crept into his head as he pushed open the door.
He was struck at once by warmth and the smell of good cooking; at least it smelled good. He brushed his muddy feet on the mat and walked into the main lobby, looking for a check in desk of some sort. If couldn't find a room here, he'd have to try an Airbnb.
@OddApproved, nah, you had a fair point. Got to get at least one Westerner into this Western town!
@The Muse, sent you a character idea.
CT-35479 (Captain Rathis)
Fear.
Anger.
Confusion.
A whirlwind of emotions gripped CT-35479, Captain Rathis, as he stood on the bridge of the Corellian Dawn and listened to the hundreds of frantic calls for help that quickly dwindled into silence; the hanger below venting into space. For a few brief moments he could see bodies in white armour tumbling away from the ship until they were lost among the stars.
What had gone wrong? Three hundred troopers in that hanger bay and now nothing but silence.
"CT-98546, report." He keyed his mic, trying to raise the trooper who had been responsible for overseeing the death of the traitor Bocri. Silence. Ominous silence.
"CT-98546, do you read me, over?" The comm waves remained utterly silent. Not even a whisper or flicker of static to suggest someone was trying to key their mic.
"CT-9547, report." He addressed the second squad now, those being sent to deal with Hirani. She was in her quarters and should prove a quick task for the elite clone troopers sent to kill her.
"Entering her hall now." A moment of silence. "Making contact now."
The second turned into ten seconds, and then into thirty. Rathis glanced around the bridge at the remainder of his crew, none of whom looked back at him.
"CT-9547, update." Comms silence. No blaster fire. No explosions. Nothing.
"What is going on down there?" He finally snapped at a nearby crewman who was flipping through the cameras that covered major intersections throughout the ship, as well as any turbo-lift doors. He silently cursed the Chancellor for not giving them more warning of his intentions to arrest the Jedi.
"There is no sign of CT-9547, or his squad." The crewman replied, still flipping through various camera feeds. Other corridors showed clones moving about in disciplined groups as they reacted to the emergency klaxons that blared throughout much of the ship.
"Show me the hanger bay." Rathis ordered and waited as the screens were brought up. Half of them were damaged beyond use by the explosions and none covered the control booth where Bocri had been last seen.
Rathis began to feel a ball of anxiety form in his gut. Nothing was going as it should have. He eyes raced over the control panels as he searched for any indication of what might be happening. Other than the alarms for the hanger bay, everything was exactly as it should be. That still meant there was one, if not two, Jedi now loose on his ship.
"Tell the gun crews to blast anything that attempts to leave the ship. We cant have them trying to esca[e in a fighter or troop transport." There was only one other hanger that could handle the larger craft, and the smaller executive hanger. "I want thirty troopers at each of the remaining hangers. The rest can begin sweeping the ship, starting with the lower levels. Check everything, vents, garbage compactors, nothing can be missed."
Comms blazed to life as orders went out and he was relieved to see some semblance of order returning to the ship as the clones moved quickly and purposefully to carry out their orders. It gave one a sense of pride to see it.
Minutes passed and squads continued to check in regularly, all clear. Engineers were trying to restore order to the hanger bay but the concussion grenade explosion had shaken wiring loose and the bridge command consoles were unable to reactive the magnetic shield. They had no way of knowing that a lightsaber had slashed through the cables.
Squads were just reaching the lower decks of the ship when one of the command crew suddenly jolted upright in his seat.
"Uh, sir, sir!" He was waving frantically and Rathis practically ran to his side. A chill ran through him at the site of Master Hirani meditating in the hallway beyond the bridge doors. She was practically inside and he had sent the rest of his clones to the lower decks!
He opened his mouth to say something but at that very moment a gentle touch caressed his brain and he found himself feeling terribly sleepy. His fingers scrabbled for the control console even as his knees hit the deck. His tongue didn't seem to want to work as he keeled over sideways, the crewman who had manned the console landing half across his legs, a glazed expression on his face.
It was with detached interest he observed Master Bocri appear in the hallway next to Master Hirani. It was not his concern anymore though. He was so very tired. He blinked his eyelids once, twice, and then blackness welcomed him.
The State of Israel
March, 2040
The little air taxi banked, hovered for a brief moment, and then darted in to claim a small yellow circle marked out in the taxi landing zone. The little tires squeaked as they landed, the loudest part of this all electric flight, and the doors opened without prompting. Lucy Aharish thanked the pilot, tapped her phone on the payment machine, and stepped out into the harsh sunlight that beat down on the Eilat Ramon Airport. Four passenger hurried past her from the que and climbed in. The taxi was airborne and rising away before she had even reached the sidewalk.
She paused, pulled out her camera, and quickly snapped some photos of the furious activity around her. An air-taxi arrived or departed every thirty seconds here, making it the busiest airport in Israel outside of Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. A large Solar-Glider passed overhead and she felt a strange pang of longing at seeing something so familiar, and yet so modern. The advent of the climate change crisis had brought an end to the development and use of massive commercial airliners. The new reality was smaller aircraft, no more than fifty passengers, that could manage 500 miles, hoping their way across the world. The use of Solar-Riders was limited in Israel; you could move a lot more people just as quickly by train now. The new four rail express train that ran north out of Eilat was proof of this.
Lucy tucked the camera away again and stepped into the airport terminal. It had been built to handle two million passengers a year and that number had certainly been reached. After the government essentially banned all personal vehicles, everyone turned to trains and the increasing number of electric air-taxis and air-buses that replaced their former carbon fuel compatriots. Banks of solar panels, fed by Israels nearly endless sunshine, was a testament to how successful it had been.
Trains departed from a terminal beneath the airport now. Express trains went north, and smaller commuter trains went south into the city proper, linking up with the port and city centre. It was here she headed next, riding the escalator down into a terminal that bustled with folks coming and going.
She stepped up to one of the ticket terminals and the camera at the top took a photo of her, paused for a few moments, and then her image appeared in front of her, along with a welcome message providing her name. She clicked the button confirming the ticket was for her, then selected her destination as Jerusalem.
WARNING: WEATHER EVENT
Dust storm at your destination. Expect delays.
Thank you for your patience
Dust storm at your destination. Expect delays.
Thank you for your patience
She sighed and tapped "accept". Jerusalem was suffering an excessive number of storms as spring approached. The absolute rule of the desert beyond the Border Wall was causing problems across many fronts and she only hoped that the rains did not begin at the same time. Mud storms, a new term for when rain and sand storms collided, were the worst.
Her timing was perfect as the express train for Jerusalem slid into the station a few minutes later. The hiss of the magnetic propulsion shutting down was matched by the soft "clank" as the train settled onto the tracks. The doors opened people swarmed out onto the platform. Above them, ever watching, were dozens of security cameras that scanned the crowd; AI looking for anyone wanted by the authorities. Security seemed light in this new age of technology but she knew that that armed security staff were never far away.
The crowd thinned and she stepped onto the train, glancing around for her seat. These new trains, installed in the last five years, were comfortable - windows stretching from floor to ceiling - allowed an unobstructed view of the surrounding terrain which, at this moment, was nothing but concrete. She took her seat and was relieved when no one sat next to her. The seats in front of her were occupied by a young couple with a sleeping baby, those behind her by a pair of giggling university students.
"Next stop, Mizpe Ramon. Please remain seated when the train is in motion." A pleasant male voice came over the intercom and the doors closed nearby. She felt the train vibrate as the magnetic system turned on and the train rose slightly off the ground. "Please ensure you are seated. This train departs in thirty seconds."
Digital screens in the back of every headrest began to count down from thirty and she watched several folks scrambling to get seated.
"Ten seconds." The voice continued politely.
The numbers ticked down in front of her face and then, after a soft "Bing" sound, she could feel the train begin to accelerate; she could feel the force pushing her back in the seat as it did and the wall beside her turned into a blur.
The track rose, climbing out from under the airport terminal, and then they burst into the sunshine. It was always a surreal experience at first, the huge glass windows giving you a real scope on the speed you were going. Sand whipped by in a golden blur, anything close to you was nearly impossible to focus on. In the distance however, rising black against the sand, was the Border Wall, stretching away to the North without an end. Beyond that, bathed in golden sunlight, was a never ending, and growing mass of sun dunes. The Jordanian City of Aquba had once been over there, but after the war the Israelis had occupied the city and then walled themselves off from the rest of the Middle East. Now it was nothing but ever shifting sands with many of the local populations reverting to nomadic camel herding, more climate refugees in a world gone to hell.
Bocri Sauburc
Bocri could have hugged whoever designed the Republics military fleet. The vents were large, not big enough for him to stand upright, but certainly large enough for him to move through at a quick jog while doubled over.
"Just enough clones needed to monitor the ship and maintain our position in orbit." Hirani was right, that meant there was still a considerable number of armed and dangerous troopers anywhere on the ship at this moment, and they were certainly looking for the two jedi.
"Be careful, see you soon. He replied quickly even as he launched himself upward into the vents of the next level. He knew that Master Kenobi has tried a similar trick on a Federation battle cruiser and the crew had been unable to track them, he hoped the Republic had not thought to correct that oversight.
His travel through the vents turned out to be a somewhat educational experience. There were multiple various types and it was quickly obvious he had chosen the heat exchange vents as blasts of hot air came ripping by on a regular basis. Sometimes it smelled of food, the galley venting, or sweaty feet, likely a sleeping quarters, once the smell of engine solvents, which could only be the small shuttle bay since the main bay was still venting into open space.
From time to time he could feel the presence of clones as they searched the ship. Interestingly enough, he could sense a measure of fear and panic among most of them. It seemed that they were well aware that the loss of surprise was not working in their favour. Once he paused to listen as a squad passed below him.
"They're both gone."
"That isn't good. I heard the medics can't wake CC-9547 and his squad from whatever Master Hirani did to them."
"I thought I had some idea of how strong they were, but I guess not. Five in a dead sleep we can't fix and hundreds vented to space by Master Bocri."
Their voices faded as they passed on. Behind them they left feelings of terror and anxiety. Part of Bocri was angry at the situation, but he was fairly certain that the clones were not responsible for what was happening. Not that it mattered, the only friend he had left on this ship was Hirani.
"Where are you?" He launched the question to Hirani. He could sense her closer now as he clambered up vents and gained deck levels. If he could join with her, they would be able to take the bridge quickly and quietly.
@Mao Mao is this thing a go?
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