The Way of the Worlds (closed, Zas)

[Darth Fett]

Sinker.

Calling the resulting blasts deafening would be grossly understating the magnitude and truly staggering effect the sheer force had on one's senses. Most of the noise was outside of the threshold the human ear could register, especially after the immense shockwave that rattled their eardrums.

The train buckled and burst into every fiery direction a mere moment after Zasabi had pulled the trigger. However, the extent of his tiny motion's consequences did not end there. The complex behind him also rumbled with the blast. Smoldering blown apart bodies, shards of glass, chunks of vehicles, bits of this and that avalanched past the overhang, assaulting Zasabi's senses from all sides. Amidst the chaotic eruption, an even larger series of rumbles activated. The foundations of buildings throughout the complex buckled and shifted, reaching an inevitable collapse.

The pressure of the taller buildings tumbling proved too much for the structure on which it sat. The overhang dove forward, partially collapsing around the Shadow's vehicle and threatening to crush him as well as it screeched overhead.

Alarms rang, barely audible as the rumbling continued.

Then it became transparent.

Out of the remaining aftershock blasts from the train, some objects catapulted Zasabi's way. Among them was a severed, smoldering hand, or at least what looked like one. On one finger was a modest wedding band. Landing and bouncing to a halt beside it was half a charred and shredded stuffed animal.

Ash, stone, metal, and blood filled the air.

The dismantled complex and hover train were ablaze. The structure was compromised and swiftly collapsing under its own weight, forcing Zasabi to a swift decision on how to get himself out of there before being crushed and ending up like the rest around him.

Loud, even above the cries and buckling, so loud it would have caused the ground to shake if it had not already been doing so, a voice came over the hillside and the complex, spilling over it and rattling the dismembered corpses and the strewn survivors, however few there may have been.

Axl once again used NBN through an encrypted line as an intermediary in the event anyone had concocted some way to try to trace the signal of what was about to come.

"It has been a long time. We are still recuperating from the errors of leaders past, vanishing and leaving us with substandard leaders and even less purpose. I've heard much in the way of chaos and destruction lately, so business must be good. The Shadows must be seen as independent. We have taken too many losses to be a direct force. Increasingly incompetent leaders, members not worthy of the Shadow name, an increasing lack of homeworlds. Dathomir-Destroyed, Sekot raped and scarred, our leaders as scattered as leaves in the wind. The rest of the galaxy believes us to be dead. This allows us to truly act in the shadows, placing our agents all throughout the structures of various groups as to further our advantage. I'm ready. Let's get this over with. Power, Protection, and Sacrifice, the Shadows."

The booming voice then repeated itself on a loop, cascading outwards to anyone in surrounding areas who would surely arrive in short order to survey the unspeakable horrors in the aftermath of Zasabi's push of a button.

[Zasabi Ray]

The first moment after he pressed the trigger, Zasabi felt a thrill of success, the flush of pleasure from a job well done.

Then he felt the second round of explosions. Felt, not heard, because the moment they went off, his eardrums seemed to burst. He collapsed to his knees, hands clapped around his head as the world seemed to shake itself to pieces. Debris pelted him like hail, some of it softer than others. To his horror, he saw a hand hit the overhang he stood on, bounce, and slide right to the edge. His eyes wavered, but his vision focused on that hand, blackened and burned by the sudden death he had created. He seemed to take in every detail of the hand, the burnt flesh and the darkened metal wedding band etched in his mind.

What have I done?

He looked up to see a ton of bricks descending mercilessly on him, and then there was nothing but darkness.
-----------------------------------------------------------

What happened? This wasn't part of the plan. It was only the train that was supposed to be destroyed, not the building.

That Bastard. He set me up. He must have. How could I have fallen for that?! It was a beginner's mistake! Even a Child would've known better!

Oh my God. I've just killed innocent people. Dozens, Hundreds, Maybe thousands of innocent people. What have I done?

What have I done?

The screeching of the building falling on itself woke him from one nightmare to another, death and mayhem surrounding him as surely as the thick coating of ash and debris. He was covered in what seemed to be blocks of some sort of plasteel, enough to weight him down. He debated for a moment as the explosions ended whether or not he should simply stay here, allow himself to die as a just reward for so foolish a mistake. Then he heard it.

"It has been a long time. We are still recuperating from the errors of leaders past, vanishing and leaving us with substandard leaders and even less purpose. I've heard much in the way of chaos and destruction lately, so business must be good. The Shadows must be seen as independent. We have taken too many losses to be a direct force. Increasingly incompetent leaders, members not worthy of the Shadow name, an increasing lack of homeworlds. Dathomir-Destroyed, Sekot raped and scarred, our leaders as scattered as leaves in the wind. The rest of the galaxy believes us to be dead. This allows us to truly act in the shadows, placing our agents all throughout the structures of various groups as to further our advantage. I'm ready. Let's get this over with. Power, Protection, and Sacrifice, the Shadows."

Anger filled him, burning his very veins. That the bastard had tricked him into this was bad enough, but that he had sullied the name of the Shadows too...

Forcing his anger into his limbs, he pushed himself off of the ground, the plasteel remains of the building sliding off of his back and to the ground. He looked around, his hearing slowly clearing from the force of the shockwave, and heard oncoming sirens in the distance, barely audible over the roaring message that drove hate into Zasabi's every bone. Forcing himself to think, he noted that the building was about to collapse atop him and his speederbike. He had to go, and quickly. He briefly considered finding a way to shut down the signal, but it would be too little, too late. The only thing he could do was leave, and quickly. Taking off at a run to the bike, he hopped on it and turned it on, holding on for dear life as he powered off of the overhang and into the death-defying drop over the ocean.

Immediately after the bike left the floor of the overhang, the building collapsed, crushing any evidence of Zasabi's presence. The bike dropped like a rock, with our unlucky hero barely managing to get the repulsors online right before hitting the water line. Surviving the deluge of water from the impact, he hung close to the cliff-line, avoiding falling pieces of building and much less desirable pieces. Keeping the thoughts of what had just ensued out of his mind, he stuck to simply trying to get to his ship, parked several miles outside of the city limits. Once he was there, he could figure out what to do next.

[Darth Fett]

The Government of Druckenwell's Military Operative Headquarters, twenty minutes after the blast.

"What's the situation?"

"Unknown death toll. Extensive damage. The hovertrain carrying the refugees has been completely destroyed. It's expected all three hundred and seventy-six of the former survivors no longer have that title."

"And the complex?"

"Demolished. No building was left over two stories high. Rescue teams are already on it. All we know is on an average day, upwards of nine thousand workers and visitors there at any given time."

"Any leads?"

"Before the blasts, we received a few calls about a suspicious character scouting the major buildings and moving into the substructure. We were about to send a unit out, but then it happened."

"The suspect?"

"Two holocam transmissions confirm the calls we received. No one saw the face, but a large, loose fitting cloak bearing an hourglass shape on its back. We believe the assailant to be part of the Shadow Order, sir. A recording broadcasted at the scene appears to hint at a terrorist splinter faction of the order. We haven't got the resources presently, but we're sending a sample of the voice to the off world authorities that deal with such religious fanatics. If this guy is truly part of the Shadows, we may be able to identify him."

"Sirs?"

"What is it?"

"A local bounty hunter saw the blast and spotted the cloaked figure slip away on a speederbike. He has been in pursuit and is transmitting a beacon. We can mobilize and catch up within ten minutes if you give the orders now."

A moment of silence.

"Let's get the bastard."

[Zasabi Ray]

Zasabi was not blind, nor was he entirely deaf, although the blast had done it's best. He had noticed the bounty hunter a little while ago, piloting some small ship a little too big to be a fighter but too small to be considered a freighter. Perfect for a bounty hunter. He had immediately changed course, his flight path still close enough to the city that he could swing back toward the main streets.

He had kept ahead of the laser blasts that the damnably lucky hunter was flinging at him only by sheer benefit of evasive movement and his instinctive danger sense. He knew, however, that the bounty hunter had to have alerted the locals to his presence. He damned Fett once more then swung into one of the main streets, startling multiple hover-cars into near accidents. It wasn't Coruscant, but it was very crowded. It was a double-edged knife, as it made it that much easier to escape detection, but also that much more dangerous.

The bounty hunter kept right on him as he wove through traffic, staying above Zasabi to keep a good visibility on him. He was remarkably competent, keeping within visual range despite all of the turns that Zasabi took at the highest speed possible on his little speeder bike. His confidence in his ability to outrun the bounty hunter declined sharply upon hearing various loudly pitched sirens of the Druckenwell police. This could get ugly, and quickly.

He frantically looked around for a good spot to make his getaway, and located a near empty plaza not too far from his location. he also spotted an unassuming hovercar back a ways, moving the near precise speed that it would have to be for this little stunt. He smiled and pulled the force to him, then reached back, triggered the MSMS to overload and, silently cursing at how much this was going to hurt, jumped off of the speeder bike into empty space.

The speeder bike slammed into the Plaza floor, the MSMS exploding at the exact same moment to create a large explosion that, while causing a ton of property damage and injuring many, thankfully didn't kill anyone. At this hour, most everyone was more concerned with going home from work.
The unlucky shmuck whom just had a fugitive land on his hover-car slammed on the breaks, almost sending Zasabi flying had he not grabbed hold of the car's bumper for dear life. He slammed painfully against the car's lower end and shook the pain out of his head. Swinging himself onto a nearby balcony, he ran inside of what seemed to be some sort of shopping plaza. It would take a bit of time for the police to figure out what was going on and where he went to, and hopefully by then he'd be able to get some decent cover and escape.
Hopefully.

[Darth Fett]

Zenn Jori was not a household name. Mention of him did not strike fear into the hearts of the average citizen. That was neither surprising nor to his discredit, as he had only begun his work as a bounty hunter less than a year prior. Before taking on this new and dangerous profession, he had been a soldier for the Republic. He was discharged after an incident in which he murdered his commanding officer's daughter. He was at that time set for a military tribunal and faced the maximum sentence of execution. He had however escaped through unknown means and taken his new name and profession. What he lacked in infamy and experience, he made up for with style and tactical superiority.

Zasabi's daring escape excited Jori. He had become accustomed to gamblers who skipped out on their bills and average joes who asked too many questions. Between the enormity of the terrorist activity, the chase, and the recent escape of the mass murderer he was tracking, his adrenaline was greater than it had ever been. The capture of this man could lead to more jobs and better prey. It was his chance to move off of this boring planet and onto better fare.

He hovered above the street, scouting the scene of the accident and watching as the police were kept busy by the resulting chaos. He had to act quickly if he was going to collect on this fugitive.

From a third story ledge inside the plaza, a man encased in AV-1c combat armor closed one eye and raised his arm, following Zasabi's otherwise well hidden trek. He pressed a button and transmitted a signal on a closed circuit.

Aboard his vessel, Jori sent a fake distress signal to the police, alerting them of the presence of a suspicious figure wearing the cloak the terrorist had reportedly been wearing, fleeing in the opposite direction. He did not wish the police to interfere with his hunt and he hoped the sound of sirens moving away from Zasabi would cause the Shadow to gain a false sense of security.

Another armor clad hunter traced the path of Zasabi from the shadows as the police sirens waned.

Jori, on the move in his HLAF flew through the rooftops, in hopes of heading his prey off.

Two more men in the same armor sprouted from the thick of the plaza, all eyes on the fugitive, each with a ysalamir on his back, and each waiting for the signal to spring their assault.

Zenn Jori had a weapon no manufacturer on Druckenwell could have duplicated, and few in his day would have anticipated.

[Zasabi Ray]

The sirens began to fade in the distance as Zasabi made his way into the shopping center. Had they lost track of him? And why? Taking the incident for granted, he simply tried to calm his mind by looking around himself. First thing's first: he needed to change his clothing into something less conspicuous. Zasabi's wild eyes finally caught what he was looking for. A clothing store. He began walking through the store, quickly but normally, as if he had come for a specific item that might sell out quickly. Thankfully, as many shoppers were, the people in this store seemed to be completely oblivious to the outside world.

Making his way past the crowd, he grabbed hold of a cap that was just big enough to obscure his green hair. He made his way into the men's section and quickly grabbed a decent-looking shirt and a pair of slacks that matched. Even on the run for his life he couldn't consciously pick out clothing that looked absolutely horrid on him. He had been pampered by his money for too long. Either he wore a robe, in which case he didn't care, or he wore something that looked good. There was no other option.

It must be the adrenaline, he thought to himself. It's screwing with my thoughts. Clamping down on his frantic mind, Zasabi made his way to a nearby dressing room. He didn't have enough use in the Force to do anything too flashy to get himself out of this situation, but he did know a few basic methods of escaping this sort of situation.

Once he got into the dressing room, thanking the Force that he wasn't a woman-their line was ridiculously long-he slipped into one of the stalls after making sure that both of the stalls next to him were empty. He quickly slipped into the new clothes, taking his old clothes and neatly placing them on the hangers he had gotten with the new clothes. Keeping his cloak on, he pulled out the smoke flare that he had kept with him in the case that he needed a pickup from whomever he would be working with from time to time. In an urban environment he could do just fine, but in the wilds of a jungle...well, he was no Antarian Ranger. However, today, his smoke flare would serve altogether a different purpose. He ignited it and rolled it a few stalls over, then waited for the sprinklers.

A few moments later, they came. Along with the screams of panic. Everyone began swarming out of the store, some carrying the clothing they were about to buy. Zasabi bust out of the stall he was in, carrying his clothing like countless other shoppers and keeping his eyes open for someone panicked enough to fall for his scheme.

Lo and behold, one such individual appeared before him as if conjured. He gripped tightly to the hangars as if they were his only lifeline that kept him from imminent death. Undoing the cloak straps, Zasabi waited until they were both in the crowd and then ran into him with enough force to topple them both. As they went down, Zasabi deftly dropped his old clothes to the ground and tossed his cloak onto the mans shoulders. As they both tried to get back up, Zasabi looked at the poor decoy and patted him on the shoulder urgently.
Go! The whole place is burning down! Even without the force, the man was so panicked that he obediently followed without delay. Zasabi immediately distanced himself from the man, using the crowd to make his way out unseen.

As he got outside, kept pace with the rest of the group, allowing his adrenaline to bleed through and add the genuine glimpse of panic onto his face. It would make it harder to distinguish him from the crowd when they eventually found out that it wasn't the poor shmuck who now owned Fett's cloak. Inside, however, he felt a glow of minor triumph, the knowledge that he might just make it out of this mess alive.
And when he got off this planet, he would find Fett and end him. For good.

[Darth Fett]

Several blasts came at Zasabi from all sides. Streaks of stun energy assaulted his body and heralded in a group of five men wearing nearly identical AV-1c combat armor. They surrounded him, the one directly ahead of Zasabi holding a datapad with the fugitive's face and vital statistics on it.

"I'm Zenn Jori and these are my boys. I've been sent to round you up. We haven't any time. Cavalry's almost here. Mind you, I'm not talking about the local police. These guys don't care what your story is, they just want to torture you, execute you and brandish your face on every screen they can slap up to show the world they got the bad guy."

The shadows obscuring their target's face suddenly vanished as a cascade of floodlights washed over him from each angle. The sway of the beams with each man's normal movement was as a tide of accusation tugging on Zasabi to make a move or accept the hand he was being offered.

"You'll be wanting to come with me," the five said in unison. The leader, the one who had identified himself as Zenn Jori and had headed the chase earlier spoke alone, "unless you want the military to have every bit of information about you handed to them with a pretty bow on top."

Jori had been instructed to inform the authorities of Zasabi's presence to ensure the Shadow's compliance. They were called in to nudge him in their direction and face him with a tough decision. His employer did not wish for the military to capture Zasabi. One did not spend months of constructing a plan centered around one man only to have him detained and killed by foreign forces. But given no alternative he would settle for it.

Fett trusted Zasabi to follow his emotions. At that point, he undoubtedly wanted the Sith Lord dead. Fett knew the feeling of killing innocents for the first time very well. There were stages of grief, and he had counted on the Shadow going through them all when devising this plan. Thus far everything had gone smoothly and he had no intention on having it unravel.

Jori offered Zasabi a way out of trouble and direct route to Fett. It was a difficult offer to turn up.

[Zasabi Ray]

Zasabi was damn near in a coma after a brace of stun blasts slammed into him. Dammit! He had been so cocky after pulling off that escape that he hadn't even bothered to check his surroundings! And now...whoever these people were had caught him.
He listened to the leader's offer, then gritted his teeth. He had to escape capture. His role was far too important for people to know his face as that of a terrorist. He looked back to the visored face of the bounty hunter and nodded once, quite the feat for someone just having been stunned multiple times. He would thank the man who pulled him out of this situation...and then slam a lightsaber into his guts.

[Darth Fett]

"Please understand, Master Ray, we hold you in the highest esteem."

Jori raised his wrist swiftly and shot a dart straight into Zasabi's neck. The sheer amount of energy they had pulsed into him only moments prior was enough to subdue an Acklay, but he was instructed not to take any chances. Accordingly, the stun serum kicked in quickly.

Eight hours passed until Zasabi moved again. The bounty hunter and his crew had transported him off of Druckenwell just in time to see the authorities land and quarantine the area. Jori had left his HLAF on the planet and traded up for a more suitable transport, a YT-2000.

Now aboard the vessel and soon to be conscious, Zasabi was seated in the cargo hold, surrounded by three of the five he had encountered earlier. Each still wore a Ysalamir and was presumably armed enough to defend themselves. Their employer had said to take no chances, so they did not.

Zasabi's weapons had been taken. In fact, he had been all but stripped down. Everything aside from his essential pieces of fabric had been taken from him. It was merely precautionary.

The three set to guard him did not take a threatening stance. They were in fact for the most part amiable. They had since lifted their visors and were chatting amongst themselves, laughing sporadically. Although they were conscious of their guest and blocked his exit, they did not intend to brood or give him any trouble beyond what their job entailed.

As Zasabi's senses slowly returned, the men's voices became clearer, even though surreal. If it had not been for the sight of the three of them and the overlapping of their words as they interacted, one would swear they were the same man speaking.

Perhaps once his vision cleared, he would make sense of it and decide how to pass the time until he saw Fett.

[Zasabi Ray]

Zasabi awoke to a blazing headache and a definite lack of female humanoids surrounding him. Not that they normally did, but he dream, couldn't he?
The world around him was still mostly a blur, but he could vaguely make out five shapes...or was it three? He couldn't quite tell. Blasted stunning weapons-one could never get over the disorientation, especially after multiple blasts, and whatever was in that dart.
"Oy," he croaked, his throat raw and drier than a Tatooinian desert. "Any of you got a cigarra?"
He closed his eyes and focused on ridding himself of the disorientation. He wasn't experienced enough to do so quite yet, but he could at least mitigate the damage somewhat.