Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to HHSWRP - UK. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Taking Nar Shaddaa
Topic Started: Sep 1 2009, 01:11 PM (194 Views)
Daz

The throng of people carried him ever forwards; his face lost in a sea of faces, each identical and yet none standing out any more than another. His clothes matched the cheap, slumish robings of every other city dweller and yet he was no mere criminal as many of the men aroudn him were - even the women. They busied themselves on market stalls, entered dimly lit shops and otherwise lived their lives oblivious to the man whom moved amoung them. Then again, he was inconcspicuous. He wasn't meant to be noticed. The midday air was thick with moisture and heat, and his robes hung to him despite being loose and thin.
He climbed a narrow staircase and found himself on a walkway above a dirty, murky canal which flowed through the middle of the slum. From here he could see the tall building in which his target was located, ten stories up and heavily fortified.
He walked across the bridge and entered a small hovel from which he had rented a room. He walked past the landlady and up the stairs.

A few hours later, he left the room dressed in a military personnel uniform. Without a word he paid the landlady for the room and left, carrying a small bag in one hand. It took him seven minutes to reach the compound, but rather than walk in the door he headed to the side. There, a long metal garbage shoot jutted out, hanging over a dumpster filled with rotting waste. The average man, as he may appear, took out a small canister of petrol and doused the garbage with it. He then removed a lighter, sparked the flint and chucked it onto the doused rubbish. It immediately caught alight and the smoke began to rise through the chute.
He headed towards the front of the building as the fire alarms began to whir. People rushed out from inside, spurred on by the security in the building. The man whom had started the fire rushed through the throng of people, bledning with the other officials directing people. Once everyone was distracted he slipped inside the building. He climbed the ten stories to the top of the now empty building.

At the top of the building was an office at the end ona long and narrow corridor - the door was open, and his mark was gone, evacuated during the fire long before the man could have reached him.
Offline Profile Quote [ ^ ]
 
Daz

But the man knew this.

He walked down the corridor, aware that he wouldn't have long until security released the cause of the fire and returned into the building. He stepped into the office at the end of the hall and looked around. It was a large room, with a heavy oak desk in the middle, and sofas and a tv skirting the edge of the room. The man walked into the room and stopped at the edge of the desk where he picked up the remote control for the elevision attached to the wall. He then reached into his pocket and withdrew a small tool pack. He dismantled the remote, and filled the case with something else instead. When he was done, he placed the remote - which looked unchanged - on the windowsill and left the room.

Instead of heading back down, the man went up a service ladder and onto the roof. He walked to the egde and looked down at the people milling around the bottom of the building, as he had expected they were still distracted although the fire had been found. The man removed his thin robing, and checked the sack attached to his back, light blue to match his under-garments.. Without another moments hesitation he leapt from the edge of the building and began to plummet towards the ground. Once he was a fair distance away, he opened the pale blue parachute and began to drift away from the building, blending into the sky.

Three hours later

Sitting behind his chair, Uruma smoked a thick deathstick - not the cheap kind either, an expensive one hand made from plants on Felucia and with crystals from Ilum ground in. After the false alarm earlier he was stressed, and he had papers scattered across his desk. Uruma controlled this planet, he was the Don of Nar Shaddaa - and yet he'd been scared from his office by a few kids starting a prank fire. Seething, Uruma reached across his desk for his remote, only to find it wasn't there. He looked around, irritated as he discovered it was on the windowsill. He stood, walked over and grabbed it. Then he pressed the 'on' button.

Sila was a thriteen year old Twi'lek girl, on her way home from school. While waiting for a shuttle to take her to her town she looked up at the towering building where Uruma worked from. She knew he lived on the top floor, and that he was a dangerous man. Suddenly, before her very eyes and explosion rocked the building and flames billowed out from the tenth story office. As the smoke cleared, she saw that the entire story had been ruined.

Though she had no understanding of it, the aftermath would change her life forever...
Offline Profile Quote [ ^ ]
 
Daz

The news had spread like wildfire; the death of Uruma meant that the numerous other crimelords of Nar Shaddaa finally had their chance to take over and the streets became arife with fighting. Sila was shot in the back as she made her way through a quiet subway station, mistaken for someone else by a petty thug trying to grab at the power now hanging in the air. Unfortunatly for these mobs at war, they would never get the chance for the power they craved, as larger forces moved in to take over from Uruma.

Broadcast across the planet on a news signal, civillian and criminal alike watched a tall and slender man take to the podium to deliver a short speech. Vujik Nakamora stood behind a guilded silver podium, battle-scarred face stern and commanding.

"As you are aware, the crime-lord known as Uruma was assassinated today. This was done by a cohort of the Sepratist Consortium, and we have now occupied Uruma's forces and assets," he pauses for a moment to let this sink in. "The Sepratist Consortium now rule this planet, and everything and everyone on it. Any who resist us will be met with force."

As he says this, he gestures with one hand and the camera changes. We see two star destroyers looming over the planet, their transports already launched in the aftermath of the assassination. Troops mobolize across the cities, replacing Uruma's men who are taking for indoctrination.

Martial law is declared across Nar Shaddaa. Crime drops to its lowest ever on record.

- End.
Offline Profile Quote [ ^ ]
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Free Forums. Reliable service with over 8 years of experience.
« Previous Topic · The Outer Rim · Next Topic »

Theme Designed by McKee91 and modified by Taeran and then redesigned by Vector