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SWG beta story.


Balandar

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Elawyn gave a soft smile to the crowd as they softly applauded her dancing. Her slim frame, clad in a pair of tightly fitting green pants, a short sleeved white shirt and a green vest that matched her pants exactly, moved idly through her series of dance moves.

While the ‘Lucky Despot’ was not the most upscale of cantinas it was, at least, popular.

A steady stream of folks were running in, taking a seat and watching her , occasionally applauding or cheering, appreciative of her efforts to entertain them. She was not a skilled dancer by any means, but she was there, at that moment, dancing for their pleasure and enjoyment.

Then he arrived. Clad in full armor, toting a very large rifle.

He stood at the edge of the stage, leering at her from beneath his helmet.

She smiled at him, returning the grin, continuing to dance.

He removed his helmet, his eyes slowly travelling up and down her body as she continued to dance.

Then he spoke. His comments were suggestive, almost derogatory.

She felt bad , ashamed, almost as if he were comparing her to a common street walker.

And she paused in her dancing to ask him to please treat his fellow sentient beings with respect.

He laughed, and suggested that she come down from the stage and give him some ‘personal attention’.

She looked into his eyes and said:

"If I come down from this stage, it will be to plant my foot where it will hurt you."

He replied with "bring it on girlie!"

She glanced at him, and smiled softly.

"As you wish."

Accepting his challenge she spun, leaping from the stage with a blood curdling scream, forcing him to take a step backwards. She landed on the floor, rapidly spinning to plant an elbow strike to the side of his head. Following that rapidly with a straight fingered strike directly into his eyes, a combination attack by spinning around, her elbow striking him in the temple, her foot catching him in the side of his head.

He struggled to bring his rifle to bear upon her, but she was too fast and far too close.

She spun, her knee lifting to catch him on the thigh, her fist slamming into his throat and finishing by grabbing his shoulders, leaping up and slamming her horned zabrak forehead directly between his eyes.

He staggered back, stunned, blinded, dizzy, and in terror at her reaction. Then he turned to run.

Carefully, in total control, she dropped to one knee, taking careful aim with the laser carbine she had crafted herself, and shot him in the back of the legs.

He fell.

She climbed to her feet, walked over, and without malice, stomped on his head.

His corpse lay there, bruised, battered and bleeding.

With a soft giggle she returned to the stage to continue dancing.

"Wow!" exclaimed one of the cantina’s guests, "what did you do?"

"Appearances can be decieving" she replied.

"I’m sorry, how do you mean?"

"what do you see when you look at me?" she asked.

"A novice entertainer" came the reply.

She smiled in response. "I am also a teras kasi student and an advanced carbine specialist."

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(Moral of the story: Using a rifle at 3m range in an enclosed space against someone who has the stun, blind, intimidate and dizzy skills is not the smartest of moves)

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