Results 1 to 3 of 3

Thread: Black Knight on White Square

  1. #1
    Lamar Starworth
    Guest

    Black Knight on White Square

    Black Knight on White Square


    Some stories start off good, and end back. Other stories start off in that great direction, and end up on the same path. This story is a bit different, because it's bad and just stays bad. The story starts a long way back, way before Jedi were taking their baby steps back into the public and the Empire didn’t have their big bad wolf to play hermit in a throne chair. It was a day long ago, on a pretty jewel of a planet called Smarteel. A small family, with a big name, had a little boy. He was the last of three, and the second from his father. A lot of fear stepped around the boy as he grew. The little boy was special, unique, and different, and nobody liked different.

    Nobody picked on him, though. He wasn’t that type of different. He was the type of different that only…different people notice. It was this special thing called the Force that he was blessed with. It made his childhood real awkward. He never was called by his birth name, and never given his last name. Actually, he was never even raised by his real parents. See, he never knew that, and very few else did too. All the way up to this very day, there are only two people that know this boy’s real story, and he aint one of them.

    But who is he anyways? It’s best to start with who he thinks he is. Born, supposedly, on Coruscant and raised like any other boy in the city by an engineer father and house mother he discovered his traits some time in his teenage years. Now, that created a few too many problems and he had to hit the dusty road and leave home. It was an expected by his…uh…parents.

    They knew enough about him and his real story to have a fake one prepped for such a day. So, he came to know that he had the Force, and was the nephew of some old Jedi that had died in the purge years back. Certainly all the loose ends were cut there, right?
    Well, they ended up giving him a few more things, just to wet his appetite and keep him satisfied. No more questions asked he was off to space. Eventually he came up with the bright idea that hiding behind enemies lines was the smartest way of going about things. Stupid as it sounded, he did it and ended up in the Imperial Academy. Lucky for him all the documents that would undo his little scheme had been blasted away in a Rebel attack after his promotion, so all was well…for a while.

    In the front-lines as a Stormtrooper, he made a name for himself. Going up the ranks faster than a womp rat to a hole, he ended up on the great Miranda Tarkin’s battlefield. It was there that he dropped his guard, finding himself in a heap of trouble. The stupid boy got mangled up in some Inquistior business. Instead of kill him; he was let free with a lot of eyes on his back. However, he did get a little more freedom. Sort of becoming like an agent of sorts for the Empire, he was kept close to higher-ups so to act as a tool to the Empire to assassinate, destroy, spy, and eliminate a plethora of enemies. The boy did a pretty good job with that. Got his hands dirty…and bloody, leaving him with more nightmares than any kid should have. Not exactly the best trade-off, but it was what he bargained for when he sold his soul to stay undercover.

    So, that basically brings us to now.

    See, over there – over there on the timeline – right there next to that spot of red that stands for bloodshed on the key map. He’s the one with the lightsaber, and small group of troopers infiltrating that little base. Cool, right? Well, it aint going to stay cool for long…lets see how this one pans out, shall we?

    Oh yeah, by the way - this idiot doesn't even know his name. He still thinks it's Lamar Starworth Winfield when it's really --- OOOH SHOOT!!

    Look at that head come off!!
    Last edited by Lamar Starworth; Sep 14th, 2008 at 09:39:11 PM.

  2. #2
    Lamar Starworth
    Guest
    Ever seen a ball bounce to a crawl?

    Of course is the obvious answer, but this is a galaxy far, far away and obvious just doesn’t cut it. When ball comes to mind, think heat, and an innocent, little boy isn’t making this ball bounce. Instead, it is a…man, of sorts. Really, he is more of an in-between – somewhat boy, somewhat man, but no one cares about that when they are getting their head cut off.

    In the dark of night, or space to be more precise, floated an asteroid. On that asteroid sat a base. Across the galaxy there are a lot of settings like this, but the location is more near the Inner, Mid Rim border. Right where all the working starts to begin, and the galaxies caste grinds. Not exactly surprising to find disgruntled citizens organizing, but what is startling is how organize they became. A few years with eyes off in the distance can leave a few shocking happenings to come up in the foreground. When war is brewing all across the known space, and even unknown for that matter, it can be hard to keep everything in check.

    The Empire tries though. It tries real hard.

    Still, this little revolt was still building. Headed by a rich man’s boy turn revolutionary, and a rag-tag group of minions, they went from protest to violence in a blink of an eye. Factories for Army and Navy goods were being hit with forces that most units weren’t trained to contain. Of course, the group was still small, but it was used to their advantage. The team, known as Viper, made quick guerilla strikes, bombs, and wiring issues that were too short and snappy to be helped by local officials. All the balance that came from the powers that be were shifting, and finally the surgeons were called in to do what the village doctors could not.

    Kill the annoying patient.

    Bang! Bang! Boom! Boom!

    It was like play time, or a daycare center after naptime. Everything was in chaos, and the pack of young rebels did not have the might to defend. While a door was kicked down by the Shadow Stormtrooper, another was being shot down. Destruction reigned in every click and clack that beat the earth in the darks of the hall. The only light that dares shine in the darkness was the vicious blast of red. Yet, that was in the halls. In the depths of the garrison sat the head, the leader, the chief and director with a small squad toying with the idea of decapitation or Sai cha as Agent Starworth would put it.

    See, when the ball bounces it bounces hard. Real hard…

    ----

    The gloom assumed the room, consuming the moment in a doom that could be tasted. A mix of sweat, blood, and fear scratched at the air, providing a stench all its own. There hadn’t been a memory in Hesus life that he call for comfort, reclaim and hold tight to like a mother’s leg behind the curtain pulled by all the violence. All that could be seen was an orange beam of light that reached out, only to catch the response of a man or woman’s last scream.

    Then, suddenly, the light was gone. In a sizzling recall, the beam returned to it’s emitter and an eerie silence mocked the man’s paranoia. Fear turn to dread, and the crawl of sweat a long Hesus’ face moved with a new haste. The beads of sweat even wanted to get away from him, for the calm was too foreboding. He was certainly going to die, but in what way, and how. With a year of revolt documented to his life, he definitely knew why – but he was a proud man who cared to ask.

    “Why are you doing this?!” Hesus called out, staring into the emptiness. Scrunched into a seat behind his desk, he kept his grip as sturdy as he could around his blaster. The man’s question got no reply. Instead, he was left in the room with his query and thoughts. Every planted bomb, every assignment, every meeting, every motive was re-imagined in order of succession, stringed together by his fright to move like a fast-forward on a holovid.

    Oh how creepy it was to finally get his answer in a vile whisper from behind.

    “You know why.”

    And then he screamed a painful scream. The orange beam returned to life.

    Hesus was dead.

    MISSION COMPLETED

    ...Or so it should have been....

  3. #3
    Lamar Starworth
    Guest
    Expect the unexpected is a famed quote.

    People say it all the time. They feel wise, and get this weird smirk on their face after they say it too. It doesn’t mean much, though. It is almost normal for some to think outside that little box of expectations. But then, maybe they just set new expectations. Really, it doesn’t matter, because no one would expect the next move. It’s like the wrong move on the dejarik board that sets up that incredible move. That one jump that makes the crowd sighs in disappointment, then cheer with excitement. The momentum changer that so few expect…well yea – the point is that this is a big moment. At least it better be, seeing as all it’s been written to be.

    If it isn’t, then it would be a big waste.

    After some heads roll, and the big bad guy…or good guy, mattering what glass you’re looking through, goes buh-bye and all is well something has to happen. Squads got to head back to ship, have their awkward silence, or weird chats about their head counts and what new ‘special’ holovid they had been shipped by their girl back home. Whatever happens, happens, there is no cut scene, new scene sequence. Life actually goes on after a pool of dead bodies are left to be found by some spacer that’s went topsy-turvy and found themselves on a ghostly asteroid base.

    However, that scheduled return was not going to go as schedule.
    While Bob and Yarrl discussed the new blasters, and Tanner yakked with Jyn about his last visit to Zeltros, Lamar was just freeing himself of the base’s stench. It was rare that he was the last out, but between their serious conversations and sweaty armpits there was no room to notice much. Accidents are a word folks used so often, but normally it’s a simple mistake. If the idiot was just aware of his/her surroundings there wouldn’t be any accident.

    Thing was, this would definitely not go down as an accident.

    Shien, Ataru, those are two forms lost in the age of the Great Jedi Purge, or so they should have been. However, there were a few exceptions around the galaxy. A few supposed Jedi had kept it alive. So, how does this have to do with an accident, and a mission on an asteroid in the Rims? Well, wait up for a second, impatient one, so that everything is laid on the table.
    Now, let it be known, Starworth just aint one of your run of the mill wannabe Jedi. The boys got a little talent, and if you’re paying attention you might remember that he was given a little something from his real life that would keep that beak wet. He got the famed, forgotten, Great Jedi Holocron and what he learned in the ancient device was enough to put harm at bay, and his feet on the pathway.

    The basics of Form IV: Ataru’s acrobats, stances, postures and maneuvers set him up; while instinct set his unorthodox Shien style put his lightsaber in reverse. Starworth grew to a force to be reckoned with simply off that, and battle only seasoned his skills. Certainly, he’s no master, but certainly not the type of person to meddle with down a dark alleyway.

    Yet, still, that doesn’t really show the connection here. Yeah – Starwort’s got all these skills under his belt, but what does it all mean to the moment? Well, if you must know – he’s going to use those skills. Quick, fast, and easy –so get those ants out your pants and watch carefully, because it might go by too fast.

    ---

    The dust kicked up from the ground. Every step set another print. The rigid ends of their boots dug at the asteroid, leaving a memory to be had. No one looked down, they were talking. A static voice edged through their cold helms, dark mask, and dreadful guise. Perched behind were defined sign of changing times.

    As a warmth had been built by their chatter, standing as a stark contrast to the cold of space, cold of face, cold of act, Starworth lagged at the rear, one with all the coldness. He was the background, he was the moment before, in all its pain, and was ready to swallow the life after. No one was to escape the demise that had risen with the chaotic blast, and shrieks. Their cries would fall in union with the Vipers, for a new snake had struck with venom that only a lightsaber could compare with.

    In an abrupt call for arms, the noxious weapon of choice screeched to life in a vibrant orange. Curiosity turned the trooper’s heads around, but they move so casual, so uninformed and oblivious that the satisfying cries never came. The whirl of wide swings, long swipes, and varied heights came from the thin, orange, beam of light that tore away at arms, legs and heads. Only one gave the reserved striker his much wanted yelp of alarm. The nightmare was complete as he stood at the long line of barley standing foe. They almost seemed like a picture; a moment captured where the black troopers turned about in confusion only to be dismembered. Body parts drooped from their owner’s, while some other’s heads toppled to the land. Crouched at the end was Starworth, his blade pointing to the heavens as the nearest Shadow Stormtrooper took to the earth.

    And so it was…

    …Imperial Agent Starworth became Starworth gone Rogue.

    The Black Knight on a White Square.

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •