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Korun Agathon
'So Say We All'
It was intriguing how cold the barrel of a slug thrower becomes, resting in place inside a small drawer on a spacecraft, dormant for so long, as if waiting and longing for the day it would end a life, the day it could release a beings soul into the universe, to give it the freedom all experience upon death.
Or so they say.
Of course, the man balancing the small sidearm in his right hand knew better then the false pretense cast out upon the universe by the Jedi, giving some solace, others a laugh, but in his experience, Korun knew the obvious and harsh truth. When you die, you're gone.
Check mate.
Thirty-one years ago at the age of eleven Korun had accepted that, and nothing in those thirty years had proven otherwise to him. Korun was born on Nal Hutta, considered by some to be the home of scum and villainy, yet it was his home and always would be. Korun's father had been a respected smuggler before his untimely death on Korun's eleventh birthday, killed by a scumbag who double-crossed him. Of course, that man was now long dead by Korun's own hands. Being young and deeply troubled by the loss of his father, the words of the Jedi gave him solace in the few weeks following his loss, but as sadness settled and rage replaced it, a hatred of that final line in the Jedi code began to build.
There is no death; There is the force.
Death; the end of life, the total and permanent cessation of all the vital functions of an organism. Death was the end, the 'force' has no stakes in what is innevitable.
His father was dead, in time, he grew to accept it.
Time has a way of changing people, the experiences they pull through, the beings they meet and the passions they begin all push towards their destiny and forge the road they must take. Korun's passion for piloting fueled what he wished to do with his life, driving him to become a smuggler like his father. His mother always said in his youth that Korun was a splitting image of his old man, his dreams of exploring the universe were just another of his fathers dead ambitions.
In due time, Korun followed his dream, finding work for the Hutt Empire as a smuggler for seven years before, at the age of twenty-two, found his way to the Raider's Coalition.
Throughout the next eighteen years Korun served within the Raiders Coalition during the Alsakan war, and when it ended, Korun was recognised by the now Supreme Commander of the Hutt Fleet, Venator Furtficus. As the Radiers Coalition sided with the Hutt Military against the Republic, Korun was given the titled of Executive Officer abourd Venator Furtficus' ship, the Abolition, flagship of the Hutt Military. It was an honour for Korun to accept the position, and he did so with pride.
Korun's recollection of his past was smashed like a mirror as a small blow torch began cutting through the thick metal hatch that led into the cockpit of the small transport he had bourded earlier. It was more then likely he was the only survivor on bourd, the rest of the crew and passengers had been slaughtered as the bounty hunters had bourded the ship and the power had been cut.
Korun, however, was lucky.
Quickly, he dispersed the small clip within the sidearm and checked the ammunition inside, five shots. Half a clip would have to do.
Swiftly, he stood from the seat before the control pannel, carrying the sidearm in his right hand. It would take the Bounty Hunters a few minutes to break through the door, it was magnetically sealed, hence the need of a blow torch to cut through the thick steel.
Korun thought of using an explosive device on the door before they could finish cutting, but there was no way to tell if the explosion would damage the controls, which he couldn't risk. Then, he saw what he needed to get out of this situation.
Silently, Korun leant up against the wall beside the door, an air tight suit now covering his entire body, with oxygen pumping into the helmet on his head. He stood watching as the torch cut away the last of the rectangle-shape that had formed within the door. Loudly, it toppled backwards, crashing beside Korun's feet. As the two Bounty Hunters entered the cockpit, Korun shot two bullets at the glass covering most of the cockpit, causing it to shatter on the impact of the second bullet, pulling everything that wasn't bolted to the ship into the cold abyss of space like a vacuum. Korun felt the vacuum greatly, both his hands gripped around a metal pole bolted to the wall, a almost unbreakable teather clipped around the pole also, keeping him from flying out into space with the two Bounty Hunters as they were pulled out of the cockpit at an alarming speed.
Korun smiled beneath the helmet and gave off a triumphant laugh as the rest of the oxygen was sucked out of the ship, along with various object pulled from deep within the transport.
It was now a matter of getting the ship back to civilization.
Or so they say.
Of course, the man balancing the small sidearm in his right hand knew better then the false pretense cast out upon the universe by the Jedi, giving some solace, others a laugh, but in his experience, Korun knew the obvious and harsh truth. When you die, you're gone.
Check mate.
Thirty-one years ago at the age of eleven Korun had accepted that, and nothing in those thirty years had proven otherwise to him. Korun was born on Nal Hutta, considered by some to be the home of scum and villainy, yet it was his home and always would be. Korun's father had been a respected smuggler before his untimely death on Korun's eleventh birthday, killed by a scumbag who double-crossed him. Of course, that man was now long dead by Korun's own hands. Being young and deeply troubled by the loss of his father, the words of the Jedi gave him solace in the few weeks following his loss, but as sadness settled and rage replaced it, a hatred of that final line in the Jedi code began to build.
There is no death; There is the force.
Death; the end of life, the total and permanent cessation of all the vital functions of an organism. Death was the end, the 'force' has no stakes in what is innevitable.
His father was dead, in time, he grew to accept it.
Time has a way of changing people, the experiences they pull through, the beings they meet and the passions they begin all push towards their destiny and forge the road they must take. Korun's passion for piloting fueled what he wished to do with his life, driving him to become a smuggler like his father. His mother always said in his youth that Korun was a splitting image of his old man, his dreams of exploring the universe were just another of his fathers dead ambitions.
In due time, Korun followed his dream, finding work for the Hutt Empire as a smuggler for seven years before, at the age of twenty-two, found his way to the Raider's Coalition.
Throughout the next eighteen years Korun served within the Raiders Coalition during the Alsakan war, and when it ended, Korun was recognised by the now Supreme Commander of the Hutt Fleet, Venator Furtficus. As the Radiers Coalition sided with the Hutt Military against the Republic, Korun was given the titled of Executive Officer abourd Venator Furtficus' ship, the Abolition, flagship of the Hutt Military. It was an honour for Korun to accept the position, and he did so with pride.
Korun's recollection of his past was smashed like a mirror as a small blow torch began cutting through the thick metal hatch that led into the cockpit of the small transport he had bourded earlier. It was more then likely he was the only survivor on bourd, the rest of the crew and passengers had been slaughtered as the bounty hunters had bourded the ship and the power had been cut.
Korun, however, was lucky.
Quickly, he dispersed the small clip within the sidearm and checked the ammunition inside, five shots. Half a clip would have to do.
Swiftly, he stood from the seat before the control pannel, carrying the sidearm in his right hand. It would take the Bounty Hunters a few minutes to break through the door, it was magnetically sealed, hence the need of a blow torch to cut through the thick steel.
Korun thought of using an explosive device on the door before they could finish cutting, but there was no way to tell if the explosion would damage the controls, which he couldn't risk. Then, he saw what he needed to get out of this situation.
Silently, Korun leant up against the wall beside the door, an air tight suit now covering his entire body, with oxygen pumping into the helmet on his head. He stood watching as the torch cut away the last of the rectangle-shape that had formed within the door. Loudly, it toppled backwards, crashing beside Korun's feet. As the two Bounty Hunters entered the cockpit, Korun shot two bullets at the glass covering most of the cockpit, causing it to shatter on the impact of the second bullet, pulling everything that wasn't bolted to the ship into the cold abyss of space like a vacuum. Korun felt the vacuum greatly, both his hands gripped around a metal pole bolted to the wall, a almost unbreakable teather clipped around the pole also, keeping him from flying out into space with the two Bounty Hunters as they were pulled out of the cockpit at an alarming speed.
Korun smiled beneath the helmet and gave off a triumphant laugh as the rest of the oxygen was sucked out of the ship, along with various object pulled from deep within the transport.
It was now a matter of getting the ship back to civilization.
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