Reverse Trap

[Carbon]

Geonosis
Golbah City
The Sprawl - Fringe Sector

The Sprawl was always under construction. That knowledge was as sure as the fact any Imperial government would be xenophobic, or any Republic torn apart by factional infighting. How and why the Confederacy worked wasn't the problem of the people of the Sprawl; they were concerned only with providing lodging and entertainment to a population growing at explosive rates. Sometimes, it was quite literal. When it came to Carbon and his Red Guard, the Sprawl was the target of the majority of their patrols. It was unstable, mercurial, and downright dirty in every sense of the term.

Patrols went missing. Running firefights were a daily occurrence. Incarceration rates were, more or less, as consistent as the immigration rate. That's what happened when you funneled the poor working class into a landscape that shifted as easily as the Tattooine sands.

Which was why Carbon himself was here, waiting out the attempted robbery. He said attempted because he still wasn't sure if it was an armed robbery, petty theft, or some other waste of his time. Flanked by a pair of guards situated behind their patrol speeders, shortened blaster rifles pointed at the door, he finally gave up on waiting, set his hands on his pistols, and walked through the door and into the shop. His HUD automatically adjusted itself to the dimmer interior lights, and he was thankful for the shade provided by his helmet visor.

Clones were still new to the Confederacy, but just like his Primogenitor, Carbon had clamped down on criminals with an iron fist - or, rather, simply put a blaster barrel to their head and pulled the trigger.

Then again, it was rarely that easy. He still had to announce himself though. "Red Guard. Show yourself."

 

[Walker Twin-Sleeves]

[member="Carbon"]

You lifted one tiny wallet from somebody and they got all up in arms about it. Walker had even offered to give it back - he didn't need the pocket cred that much, but much to his chargrin, the mark had against all odds recognized him from a multi-level marketing scheme he'd swindled them into some years back and here we were. A bunch of jackbooted thugs walking inside with their guns out, and the fat wench who'd called them outside grinning like that cat who'd gotten the canary. It was enough to make Walker nauseous, if he wasn't so white-knuckle with terror. It just went to show that he'd have to work on his technique.

Intuition suggested he could only hide in the roof for so long. While he was light enough to deal with the cheap tile drop ceiling, it was only a matter of time before the Red Guard thought to flick on something unfair like thermo goggles or something... and then the jig would be up. He'd hoped to lure them into switching to NVR instead of turning the lights on, and it seemed they'd done that. He'd have to thank Razelle for the tip. She had lots of good tricks like that, and maybe he could thank her when she bailed him out of prison later.

Still. He had a secret weapon. Walker waited until the right moment to strike, perched above the Red Guard. When the soldier passed underneath...

Walker kicked a bucket of paint over onto the trooper's head, the thick white paint falling in five gallons of thick fluid. Hopefully while the man turned on whatever overengineered solution he had to this problem - little visor wipers, maybe? - he wouldn't notice the lanky, blue-haired thief darting out the back door while pulling on a jacket. Because if you were going to get arrested for theft, you might as well take everything you wanted while you were at it, right?

 

[Carbon]

He'd have been annoyed if he wasn't impressed that he'd managed to find a bucket of paint in this place. Wait, this was the Sprawl. Paint... Sprawl.

While his mind turned it over, his hand came up, smearing the visor with paint while following the sound of footsteps. "Suspect escaping on foot. Back alley." Somewhere, a speeder bike was likely screeching in to provide overwatch, and Carbon tossed his helmet aside before barreling out into the alley, black eyes darting up one direction then down the other.

Inside the door, he heard his helmet crackle, and followed after the retreating sound of footsteps. It had been awhile since he'd had a good food pursuit - probably because most had learned outrunning the clones was damn near impossible. This person was either new, or luring him towards an area better suited to deception and hiding than this one.

Without wasting his breath on shouting, he focused on breathing and scanning the alleyway ahead as it hooked sharply.

 

[Walker Twin-Sleeves]

Clone troopers had two things to keep in mind when you had to deal with them. The first was that they were in better shape than you were, the second was that there were always more of them than you were expecting to have to deal with. Walker only had the one on foot that he knew of, but chances were a net was closing around him as they ran.There must have been too little real crime going on today to keep them busy. Of all the rotten luck!

Shoes skidding on the wet, poorly-maintained ground of the sprawl, Walker turned a sharp corner down another alleyway - then another, and another. There was no apparent logic to what he was doing, and indeed, he mostly just wanted to keep the clone cop from being able to levy his longer stride and sprinting potential against him. And, admittedly, looking for anything useful. Trying to make a plan. The sprawl was sparsely populated enough to finding a good crowd to disappear in would be difficult; he'd have to gain some space on his pursuer, first. Finally, a plan began to form. A stupid plan, and one that might get him shot, but a plan.

Rounding a corner once again, Walker ducked back against the wall and pulled on a red jacket. He tossed a similarly red bucket over his head, a pair of busted NVG he'd borrowed from Razelle strapped over them. He held his durasteel stick like a mock rifle, then straightened his back like a soldier, waiting for his pursuer to round the corner. Mere seconds to change.

"He went that way, sir!" Walker barked in his best impersonation of the man, gesturing down the alley with his fake rifle. "Keep on him, I'll cut him off!"

Even if the fake Clone Trooper act only bought him a few seconds...

 

[Carbon]

He couldn't say he hated a chase - he was just not used to them. Personally, that is. Most everyone ran sooner or later, but he wasn't usually involved. With a map of the Sprawl in his head, he couldn't make heads nor tails of where they were going, but as he continued the chase he kept the speeder updated with frequent comms. When he first came around the corner, there was nothing apparently wrong.

That, of course, was the problem.

A moment later, a shadowed figure against the wall, with a stiff back and a bucket on his head, spoke up quite firmly. The tone of voice was good, at the very least. But even in the shadows of an alley, the stick was too long for a standard issue blaster and the NVGs he had strapped to the bucket were almost entirely comical. When everything was included in your helmet by default, you didn't need anything like that on the exterior.

"I'm sure you will," he replies, void black eyes studying the boy. "Ya know, it's funny. You're the first person to try this." Bringing his left hand up, he spoke into his comm unit again.

"Suspect located. Alley Three-Two Dash Five-Besh."

Smiling faintly, he motioned for him to drop his stick. "Good run, though. Good run."

 

[Walker Twin-Sleeves]

[member="Carbon"]

Boy, these troopers really had nothing to do. So many rolling up for a petty theft, such a small event. That Walker had been needlessly lifting shit again didn't even really enter his mind, it was simply a matter of course. Birds flew, space was big, Walker Twin-Sleeves stole things. Delicately removing the bucket from his head, Walker tossed it aside and then delicately set his durasteel walking stick against the wall. "Well done, Trooper." He began with a grave nod, standing up straight.

With a flash, Walker produced an official-looking badge from somewhere, the thing practically appearing in the palm of his hand. "I'm an official clone inspector from the Ministry of Intellect." He explained. "Jackdaw Janine Fillibuster. You and your squad performed perfectly within proper protocols, and your personal professionalism in apprehending a suspected fugitive is to be commended. Your response time clocked in at two-point-two-seven-three minutes, and you had a full envelope around the danger area in only a minute more."

Walker brushed his bangs back and grinned. "The Confederacy counts on troopers like yourself to uphold the peace, and you've done it here, today. If I'd been some marauding Sith, your squad would have had the situation handled perfectly. In fact, I've a questionnaire to that effect. How WOULD you have handled that hypothetical situation, Trooper?" He asked, his badge disappearing into a pocket onto to be replaced with a pad of paper and a pen - ready to take notes.