Politician (Profession)
Description: A good politician knows that all is just a game. A great politician ensures that he has pawns in the right places to win the game. Subtlety and subterfuge are the two skills that they must all master less they wish to be stabbed in the back. Literally.
Cryptic Note (Adventure) - Calen Natari Saga 4
Calen decided that it would be best to remain unnoticed until nightfall. Though it was easy to be lost in the crowds, someone unfamiliar with the city environment stood out. She would spend this evening becoming acquainted.
She ignored the ache in her muscles from sitting crouched in the ally. She had been trained since birth the art of hunting. Though she was slightly better than most, everyone in her tribe had learned to ignore the pains of the body and mind. It was either ignore the pain or starve.
Very little fuss is made about sunset on Rebec. Night and the outside temperature falls quickly. As with all scarlati, Calen's vision could adjust to low light conditions. In the desert this was definitely an advantage. In the city, less so. Automated lights turned on and illuminated most of the main streets. However, Calen's ally was still pitch black. At least it provided some cover. Silently, she untied the pack the stranger had given her and examined the contents.
The stranger who had hired her was definitely thorough. Food rations, a map and extra ammo cells for her C6 had been had been provided. Digging deeper into the pack, she found what seemed to be a black jumpsuit of sorts. Needing a fresh change of clothing, she stripped out of her more native looking garb and dawned the jumpsuit. Though seemingly thin and skin tight, the garment proved to be surprisingly warm against the night chill.
Calen pulled her own black boots back on and then examined the final item in the pack. It was essentially a utility belt with clips for ammo cells and pouches. Calen buckled on the belt, loaded up the ammo clips and put the food rations in one of the pouches. She then turned her attention to the map.
She found it interesting that the map was hand drawn. Even in her far more rustic nomadic tribe almost everyone used data pads. They did not wear with age and took up far less space than thousands of scrolls. A single building was circled on the map along with a note written in the margins saying "Tomorrow. Evening Meal."
Calen pondered what the cryptic note might mean. Deciding not to waste any more time, she threw aside the now empty pack, secured her rifle, and melted into the shadows as she made her way toward the building circled on the map.
She ignored the ache in her muscles from sitting crouched in the ally. She had been trained since birth the art of hunting. Though she was slightly better than most, everyone in her tribe had learned to ignore the pains of the body and mind. It was either ignore the pain or starve.
Very little fuss is made about sunset on Rebec. Night and the outside temperature falls quickly. As with all scarlati, Calen's vision could adjust to low light conditions. In the desert this was definitely an advantage. In the city, less so. Automated lights turned on and illuminated most of the main streets. However, Calen's ally was still pitch black. At least it provided some cover. Silently, she untied the pack the stranger had given her and examined the contents.
The stranger who had hired her was definitely thorough. Food rations, a map and extra ammo cells for her C6 had been had been provided. Digging deeper into the pack, she found what seemed to be a black jumpsuit of sorts. Needing a fresh change of clothing, she stripped out of her more native looking garb and dawned the jumpsuit. Though seemingly thin and skin tight, the garment proved to be surprisingly warm against the night chill.
Calen pulled her own black boots back on and then examined the final item in the pack. It was essentially a utility belt with clips for ammo cells and pouches. Calen buckled on the belt, loaded up the ammo clips and put the food rations in one of the pouches. She then turned her attention to the map.
She found it interesting that the map was hand drawn. Even in her far more rustic nomadic tribe almost everyone used data pads. They did not wear with age and took up far less space than thousands of scrolls. A single building was circled on the map along with a note written in the margins saying "Tomorrow. Evening Meal."
Calen pondered what the cryptic note might mean. Deciding not to waste any more time, she threw aside the now empty pack, secured her rifle, and melted into the shadows as she made her way toward the building circled on the map.
Shawm (Planet)
Affiliation: Rebellion
Native Race: Zelenca
Main Weapons Produced: Fm ii Pistol, Menut Enviromental Suit
Main Ship Produced: Tubo Battleship
Description: Shawm is almost entirely covered with water. A few scattered islands contain enough resources on them to have encouraged the otherwise water-dwelling Zelenca to evolve a set of oxygen breathing lungs.
Though few have ever been able to visit the underwater civilization, it is reported to be exotically beautiful. The Zelenca are more or less a peaceful race. Their entire government is run democratically. Much of the submarine technology they have developed has been applied to their outer space ships. This has resulted in one of the galaxy's most impressive battleships.
Since the planet's environment is generally inhospitable for air breathers, Shawm is one place the Imperium truly sees as a threat toward their plans for expansion. This planet could be the key to the Rebellion's victory.
Native Race: Zelenca
Main Weapons Produced: Fm ii Pistol, Menut Enviromental Suit
Main Ship Produced: Tubo Battleship
Description: Shawm is almost entirely covered with water. A few scattered islands contain enough resources on them to have encouraged the otherwise water-dwelling Zelenca to evolve a set of oxygen breathing lungs.
Though few have ever been able to visit the underwater civilization, it is reported to be exotically beautiful. The Zelenca are more or less a peaceful race. Their entire government is run democratically. Much of the submarine technology they have developed has been applied to their outer space ships. This has resulted in one of the galaxy's most impressive battleships.
Since the planet's environment is generally inhospitable for air breathers, Shawm is one place the Imperium truly sees as a threat toward their plans for expansion. This planet could be the key to the Rebellion's victory.
Target Acquired (Adventure) - Calen Natari Saga 3
The stranger never gave his name. Calen did not care. He was a means to an end. All that mattered was making this kill and collecting her reward. Still, he seemed more than pleased to assist her. As she followed him to his dwelling he murmured something about "not letting such talent go to waste."
Though they were the same species, the stranger's dwelling seemed completely alien to Calen. Useless decorations were on every wall. It had obviously been many years since he had had to pack up all his belongings to follow a herd.
"You will need equipment," he stated.
His tone of command offended her. She was no slave. "My belongings will suffice. I need nothing else."
"You've never had to make a kill like this before."
He pressed a button and a side door instantly opened up to admit a servant. The servant was a species Calen had never seen before but he was obviously well-trained and probably very discreet.
"I'm sending this young woman on one of my very... special... diplomatic missions," he told the servant. "Please see to it that she is well prepared for such a mission."
The servant left and then came back mere moments later with a large pack that he handed to Calen.
"Go through the contents in your own time and use what you will," the stranger instructed. He handed her a data pad. "On that data pad is a list of the information you will need to know about your target including probable whereabouts."
"Why do you want him dead?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Curiosity."
"You should ask fewer questions. But if it makes any difference, the man is one of my biggest rivals here on this planet. Let's just say I have great plans for Rebec and he is making these plans rather difficult."
Calen shrugged. Politics did not interest her. She wanted her ship and that was that.
"Report back to me here as soon as you have completed your task. If you want your ship I require proof of the kill."
Though they were the same species, the stranger's dwelling seemed completely alien to Calen. Useless decorations were on every wall. It had obviously been many years since he had had to pack up all his belongings to follow a herd.
"You will need equipment," he stated.
His tone of command offended her. She was no slave. "My belongings will suffice. I need nothing else."
"You've never had to make a kill like this before."
He pressed a button and a side door instantly opened up to admit a servant. The servant was a species Calen had never seen before but he was obviously well-trained and probably very discreet.
"I'm sending this young woman on one of my very... special... diplomatic missions," he told the servant. "Please see to it that she is well prepared for such a mission."
The servant left and then came back mere moments later with a large pack that he handed to Calen.
"Go through the contents in your own time and use what you will," the stranger instructed. He handed her a data pad. "On that data pad is a list of the information you will need to know about your target including probable whereabouts."
"Why do you want him dead?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Curiosity."
"You should ask fewer questions. But if it makes any difference, the man is one of my biggest rivals here on this planet. Let's just say I have great plans for Rebec and he is making these plans rather difficult."
Calen shrugged. Politics did not interest her. She wanted her ship and that was that.
"Report back to me here as soon as you have completed your task. If you want your ship I require proof of the kill."
Coming of Age (Adventure) - Reuben Calloway Saga 1
Reuben Calloway turned and waved one last time toward his parents. He wouldn't be seeing them for a long time. Reuben knew they were incredibly proud of their only son but he was scared stiff. As a member of the Imperium he was required by law to begin a five year period of service as a soldier. All humans began their service at the age of fifteen.
It wasn't the training that scared him. It was the fighting. Imperium officials made constant public broadcasts about how he should feel proud about serving his government. They boasted about how the Taborian training regiment was unparalleled which meant that most of their soldiers lived to see the end of their service.
Reuben supposed that was more or less true. But it was ones that didn't come back that had him worried. The youths a few years ahead of him that were rumored to have died in action. That maybe the Imperium wasn't quite as peaceful as the officials suggested.
On Reuben's fifteenth birthday his father had held him by the shoulders and told him that he must now learn how to be a man. He would not disappoint his father.
With a sigh of resignation he turned and boarded the transporter shuttle that would take him to the training camp.
It wasn't the training that scared him. It was the fighting. Imperium officials made constant public broadcasts about how he should feel proud about serving his government. They boasted about how the Taborian training regiment was unparalleled which meant that most of their soldiers lived to see the end of their service.
Reuben supposed that was more or less true. But it was ones that didn't come back that had him worried. The youths a few years ahead of him that were rumored to have died in action. That maybe the Imperium wasn't quite as peaceful as the officials suggested.
On Reuben's fifteenth birthday his father had held him by the shoulders and told him that he must now learn how to be a man. He would not disappoint his father.
With a sigh of resignation he turned and boarded the transporter shuttle that would take him to the training camp.
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