Explosions, blaster fire, debris, bodies, and dust everywhere. The definition of a battlefield. But the place that this fight was taking place was no battlefield......it was a nightclub. Vincent Terreck aimed his rifle over his head and the table he was using for cover,pulled the trigger, and was rewarded with a scream of pain and a satisfying thump as one of his attacker's bodies hit the floor, dead.
Dammit! How did I get myself into this mess? Vincent thought as blaster fire zinged over his helmeted head. Even as his mind formed these thoughts, a flash of memories of the time before this fight started played through his mind. It had begun with his arrival on Coruscant. He was here to have an old friend upgrade his rifle and to restock on grenades. He wasn't due to see him until tomorrow, so Vincent had decided to take some time to reaquaint himself with the streets of Coruscant. He had visited a cantina, removed his helmet for a scant five minutes as he drank a correllian ale, his favorite drink. He had left and was covertly pursued by several men whose families he had killed during his time in the Military. He had visited a favorite nightclub of his during his days of leave. That's when the trouble started. The men had confronted him, demanded retribution, and when he refused to pay them reperations, attacked. At least twleve innocents were killed as Vincent weaved through the crowd to find cover, and dozens more had been killed, injured, or ran like hell as one of the men threw a thermal detonator. He had finally reached a table to use as cover, and began firing like he would during his days in the army. He killed seven of the fourteen men, and wounded three more, almost fatally. Which brought him back to the present moment. He heard the telltale beeping as a grenade whizzed past his left ear, and dove from cover before it detonated, turning his cover to dust. His armor intiated a thermal scan of the area, and when four blobs of heat showed up on his HUD, he opened fire like there was no tomorrow, and watched their thermal signature fade as they died. When the dust had cleared, the ex-soldier walked towards the door, leaving death and destruction in his wake.
Just like old times, the soldier thought bitterly.
Dammit! How did I get myself into this mess? Vincent thought as blaster fire zinged over his helmeted head. Even as his mind formed these thoughts, a flash of memories of the time before this fight started played through his mind. It had begun with his arrival on Coruscant. He was here to have an old friend upgrade his rifle and to restock on grenades. He wasn't due to see him until tomorrow, so Vincent had decided to take some time to reaquaint himself with the streets of Coruscant. He had visited a cantina, removed his helmet for a scant five minutes as he drank a correllian ale, his favorite drink. He had left and was covertly pursued by several men whose families he had killed during his time in the Military. He had visited a favorite nightclub of his during his days of leave. That's when the trouble started. The men had confronted him, demanded retribution, and when he refused to pay them reperations, attacked. At least twleve innocents were killed as Vincent weaved through the crowd to find cover, and dozens more had been killed, injured, or ran like hell as one of the men threw a thermal detonator. He had finally reached a table to use as cover, and began firing like he would during his days in the army. He killed seven of the fourteen men, and wounded three more, almost fatally. Which brought him back to the present moment. He heard the telltale beeping as a grenade whizzed past his left ear, and dove from cover before it detonated, turning his cover to dust. His armor intiated a thermal scan of the area, and when four blobs of heat showed up on his HUD, he opened fire like there was no tomorrow, and watched their thermal signature fade as they died. When the dust had cleared, the ex-soldier walked towards the door, leaving death and destruction in his wake.
Just like old times, the soldier thought bitterly.
