Aeon Erantes
Character
"He's behind that corner! Move! Move! Move~!"
Silently, back pressed to the ferroconcrete, he peered at the datachip in hand. Aeon slumped against the corner of the wall, just beside him an open street currently occupied with what he assumed were armed, and more importantly, a private security force. Black uniforms, black masks with attached microphones, and what he assumed were blaster pistols. His body tensed, leaned and he peeked out from the corner. There, behind a half wall that contained a small garden, was a woman lifting a blaster pistol towards him. Quickly behind his wall again, a wall he considered naming Timmy for how close he was getting to it, Aeon felt the flare of heat pass him by. In the very least he was correct about their weaponry. He had little idea for their numbers now though. Not that he was going to readily check it out again. Perhaps if he had brought his armor he would be a bit more willing, but as it were, a close shave was warning enough.
Still. Pocketing the datachip, he weighed his options. He had not brought his rifle, nor his armour, figuring a little discretion was necessary, the only thing he had was regular clothing - blue jacket with a singular plate of armour (not much help here), black trousers, boots, and around his chest a leather strip with two pistol holsters, in them his WESTAR-34s. Their voices, commands, drowned out in his thinking. But he was listening by a different means. He could hear the steps of the nearest operative, doing their best to remain unheard, stepping as silently as possible. Soon they were just at the corner of the wall and allowing the Force to expand and flow through him he quickly, much more quickly than considered normal, grabbed the man by the collar and with all his strength - and a bit more, slammed him into the wall beside him. The body going limp and slumped to the ground.
"Dead?" he thought, looking at the armoured man, but he couldn't be sure. Instead he knelt and searched his pockets. Credits, a security keycard, a pistol, two grenades and a torn piece of paper with a number on it. He knew how he was going to get out of this. Grabbing the frag grenade, and removing the pin, he awaited an opportunity and then threw the disarmed explosive in between the group. Close enough to hit them. Expectedly they scrambled away, and by the time they would realize what had happened, Aeon was already hurriedly moving half a block away.
Silently, back pressed to the ferroconcrete, he peered at the datachip in hand. Aeon slumped against the corner of the wall, just beside him an open street currently occupied with what he assumed were armed, and more importantly, a private security force. Black uniforms, black masks with attached microphones, and what he assumed were blaster pistols. His body tensed, leaned and he peeked out from the corner. There, behind a half wall that contained a small garden, was a woman lifting a blaster pistol towards him. Quickly behind his wall again, a wall he considered naming Timmy for how close he was getting to it, Aeon felt the flare of heat pass him by. In the very least he was correct about their weaponry. He had little idea for their numbers now though. Not that he was going to readily check it out again. Perhaps if he had brought his armor he would be a bit more willing, but as it were, a close shave was warning enough.
Still. Pocketing the datachip, he weighed his options. He had not brought his rifle, nor his armour, figuring a little discretion was necessary, the only thing he had was regular clothing - blue jacket with a singular plate of armour (not much help here), black trousers, boots, and around his chest a leather strip with two pistol holsters, in them his WESTAR-34s. Their voices, commands, drowned out in his thinking. But he was listening by a different means. He could hear the steps of the nearest operative, doing their best to remain unheard, stepping as silently as possible. Soon they were just at the corner of the wall and allowing the Force to expand and flow through him he quickly, much more quickly than considered normal, grabbed the man by the collar and with all his strength - and a bit more, slammed him into the wall beside him. The body going limp and slumped to the ground.
"Dead?" he thought, looking at the armoured man, but he couldn't be sure. Instead he knelt and searched his pockets. Credits, a security keycard, a pistol, two grenades and a torn piece of paper with a number on it. He knew how he was going to get out of this. Grabbing the frag grenade, and removing the pin, he awaited an opportunity and then threw the disarmed explosive in between the group. Close enough to hit them. Expectedly they scrambled away, and by the time they would realize what had happened, Aeon was already hurriedly moving half a block away.
