Heat and Ezekiel
It had been a long day.
He had expected no less. You can hardly expect to be named the Supreme Commander of a Galactic nation’s military and not have a busy time of it. It was officially peacetime, and so it might have been expected that most of that were pomp and circumstance. This was not the case, Jace had spent the day being informed to a detail even the previously high ranking officer had been unaware of. Within his mind now rested the beating heart of the Republic grand war machine, at least, he hoped to make it grand again.
That had not been the only matter keeping him occupied. At the same time as he was being named Supreme Commander, the Senate was in flux. New factions of senators had risen to prominence and a vote of no confidence had been floored. It was a tense time on Coruscant, and, Jace, being the individual he was, had thrown himself into the security measures required to make sure anyone key to the proceedings, on either side, didn’t end up dead before matters could be concluded. Of course, most feared the internal politics of the Senate. Jace, instead, was on the watch for the Sith. How they would love to extend this period of doubt at the heart of the Republic’s politics.
The apartment assigned to him was the height of luxury by his standards, and he quickly made his way to the living area, pouring himself a shot-glass of whichever bottle they had left out for him as something of a gift. He took a long gulp, before admiring the view. Even if he preferred less built up worlds, from above, Coruscant was unmistakenly beautiful. The vast glass display that made up one wall of the room gave a commanding view of much of the urban sprawl below, and the Senate in the distance. Had it been restored properly, he was sure he would have been able to spy the Jedi Temple. The thought soured his mood, and he turned from the view.
He was in his armour. It had been suggested that he might wear something more...civilian, for his swearing-in, but, he wished to treat this as a wartime position. The white and orange battle armour was an image known across the galaxy, especially with the Havoc decals beside the rank markings. He’d long refused to have them removed. Jace moved his wrist up, the action immediately bringing up a holographic display. When Jace had set out to turn Havoc Squad into the most capable sith-killers he could, they had been granted the finest in technology the Republic could afford to spare. Each feature of the Havoc Battle armour could be brought online, activated, targeted, with the barest of movements. Weapons could be fired with the literal blink of an eye. When you fought against an enemy capable of the impossible, your every action had to count and had to deliver a payload. Thankfully, for now, he was just seeking updates.
His eyes tracked through updates from the security teams, the Supreme Chancellor, their rivals, any political staff and senator who’s death or disappearance would disrupt manners. He looked again and again for the weak point. The weak point he couldn’t find.
Or could he.
Supreme Commander.
That would be a real punch in the gut.
Jace had time to turn, detaching his helmet from his belt and ramming it over his features before the first strike hit. He didn’t see the munitions, or indeed, if there was one, all he knew was that he had turned, and suddenly he was pushed from his feet by the force. That, and now the window was gone.
It was another moment before the hazard alerts along the suit informed him of the depressurisation. He didn’t need the alert, he could see everything around him being sucked towards the abyss. Another moment passed, and suddenly his view was spinning. The lights of Coruscant again, although this time they were rushing towards him. His suit automatically triggered his distress and warning systems, but everything else was left to his own activation. His suit would suppress his life signs for now, he didn’t want to fire the jets or any other feature that might save him, less he reveal himself to anyone watching the cloud of destruction from what had been his apartment.
Instead, he grit his teeth, turning in the air to face the building he was falling from, counting down the moments.
Make the window as small as possibleAs he drifted closer to the building, he finally acted. Jets along his armoured fired, not an instant stop, but even still the suit had to project a field across his body to stop his form disintegrating from the GeForce. He continued to descend down several more levels of the sky rise, before his suit punched through another of the windows, bringing him to crashing stop among what had been another living area, thankfully vacant. His side arm was pulled from his thigh. No rifle, this would have to do.
All available units, there has been an incident at Hab-Block 2X-12. Designated Military Apartments. Incident believed to be coming from-He heard the alert start to come over the military and emergency services ‘frequencies’ but he cut them off with his own override before they could finish.
“This is Commander Jace Malcom. Hab-Block 2X-12 is under attack, all available units, converge. Tighten the guard on the Senators.”
Whoever had attacked him would know their window was closing, if they already knew he had survived, they would strike again soon if they hoped to put him down. The next few minutes would be critical.
A smirk slinked its way across the Falleen’s defined jawline at the sight of the explosion. Clad in an intricate brown robe he seemed like a simple drifter. Just another wanderer on the galactic capital. His narrow, orange eyes blinked slowly before he started to move. A proper assassin always took a moment to appreciate their handiwork. His initial target being the pompous Supreme Commander Malcolm. The soldier’s apartment was now but a blaze, an endlessly pleasing sight to the undercover Sith. Still, his work on Coruscant was not done yet.
In truth, he hated this world, so rife with corruption and two-faced politicians hiding behind pleasing smiles. Elected senators that stabbed the idiots that voted for them in the back. Such problems did not exist in the Empire. Malcolm’s death was a needed one, the man had been a thorn in the back of the Sith Empire for decades. It was only right he perished in such a final manner. From his vantage point across from the now wrecked apartment, the Sith watched through macrobinoculars. His hood was raised over his head, long hair tied firmly in a tight ponytail. As he scanned around, his eyes through the macrobinoculars caught sight of an armor clad man, in another living room far below the one he had fallen from.
Damn it.Zes’ hands clenched tightly at the sight of the Supreme Commander of the Republic military alive and breathing. Not a smouldering corpse melted into the ground. The fool was tough, he had to give him that. But that wasn’t his only trick today. The Sith assassin’s visit to this decadent world was not as simple as that. He watched from his perched position far above Malcolm, taking notes of the panicking crowds of people in the urban streets. Their screams sounded like the most pleasant of music to him. The lights of the grand city shined in his view as he flicked another switch on his wrist, igniting another set of explosives. In a building adjacent to Malcolm’s apartment, he’d level the entire complex if he had to. If it meant sending the message he had been told to send.
The secondary explosion passed in shockwave form across to Jace’s new perch in the lower portion of the building, but his armour easily dampened the impact on his person. This meant little to the Supreme Commander as he watched yet another building become partially engulfed in flame. Wordlessly, he turned his vision towards the surrounding buildings, the automated systems already scanning for further incoming threats, picking out anything that might be deemed unusual from the chaos gathering all round him.
ThereWhat appeared to be a drifter, watching the destruction through macrobinoculars, either part of the effort of someone with a particularly morbid fascination. Jace was willing to take the risk.
“Republic Forces, patching through a location and identity now. Consider them an active target. I want them brought in alive.” His voice resounded across his communications system, what with only a pistol, he had little chance of striking a blow from this range, but he could still begin to coordinate efforts.
Just another day at the office.
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