Hands dart across the screen, moving this bit of money here and there, the other following Imperial transactions. If people could spot the man in this secured room they might be confused, as he works and sabotages from the comfort of his chair, it looks almost like someone playing a piano. The beeping and clicking of the machines, the way the electricity and energy flows through the cables, the dull hum of the generator, the faint sound of the holo projector, all forming a sound to most as just noise and the sound of working, but to a slicer, he was conducting a Symphony. Money changes hands, blasters fire, homes burn, with the holonet anything was possible, it had its own language, it was the game to building empires, and the tool to make them crumble in the right hands, for now all that would burn would be the Black Suns. 

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A swift boot comes to the head of a small pair of boys, being flung across the street, born with hair as red as blood and eyes of demons, they skid across the floor, clutching chunks of scrap. Two large adults stride over, kicking them again, sliding them closer to the edge of a drop to the lower levels of the city, cackling wildly. “We told you kids, we catch you stealing from the Exchange again, we would end ya!” They step closer, lifting one brother each by the collars of their tattered shirts. Slowly the older boy slides his hand into his pocket, and a small ping can be heard, the men look up as two turrets swivel to life! They drop the pair and turn to run, only to be obliterated by consecrated fire, little left of them but blood stains and ash, the turrets swivel back to their original posistions, cold and unthinking machines are the perfect get away. The brothers peek around, scared their saviors would turn on them, before composing themselves and darting for the Elevator. 

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The symphony ebbs and flows like water as Xin closes his eyes, letting the sounds guide his hands, an imperial commander exposed for treason, a sith’s ship stalls in the space port as Soldiers close in, A Jedi is Revealed as a killer of 35 innocents as his Brethren close around him, locked in his home. No trace, no path, Only money, information, and technical difficulties are discovered, and chaos spreads. The song Crescendos as ships, stolen from the Corisant space port arrive at a section of empty space, given wrong directions from a busty blond they will never see again, the Republic not far behind they high tail it back to their bosses. 

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“Were home mum…we got the stuff for food this week…” The younger brother speaks softly, offering the high grade Droid parts, things that could feed them for months. The swift hand of his mother cracks across his face, before she snatches the parts, muttering to herself before looking them over, turning and starring daggers and the cold face of her oldest. “And you…Drex… you holdin out on your poor motha… you know she needs her medicine…” She charges for him grabbing his throat and pinning him to the wall, his brother trying to pull her back only to be slapped again, sent to the ground by her Spice addled rage “GIVE ME THE FAKCIN PARTS!” His face was strained, his airway closing as he looks her in the eye, sputtering out as he could hardly breathe. “You wont find..them…mum…” She screams wildly and throws him across the room, landing on a pile of Scrap, the rusting metal sinking into this flesh, His brother crawling to him, helping to pull him off. All they hear is the front door slamming, she was off again to get her fix, Callum doing what he could to pad out the bleeding with dirty rags, The eldest knocked unconscious by the lack of air and fall, muttering softly as he was coming too.”Take..the last of it..get us..food …little brotha…If you dont…we will starve…she…will be gone..a couple hours…dont forget..to get her..some..” he coughs, grunting as he points to the Bin beside the house. The younger brother nods and wipes tears away, Handing his big brother the Data pad.”Watch mah back, ill be home again soon… with water..need to clean those wounds…” He scurries out of the house, disappearing in red light, the red is all Drex can see, as his vision fades into unconsciousness.

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Xin lets a tear fall down his cheek,closing out his holo pad, disconnecting it from the war room terminal. He tries to stand, slowly working his way up two flights of stairs to the bunk rooms. He falls to the side, barely landing on a hopefully unoccupied bed, holding his side, to the back and up slightly, the pain of his scars were never fading.

Author Scond
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