Hero of Galactic City
"Get up. No matter how many times you're knocked down, you have to get back up."
Tags - TBD
Location - Coruscant, Floor 411
The whine of a blaster bolt streaked past Starbird as he would spin to confront the next attackers. Three men, armored in barely maintained stormtrooper armor, already lay around his feet from his initial assault. Two more on the far end of the alleyway had taken positions, blaster rifles whining with each shot which illuminated the dark steel alleyway with irregular flashes of red light. Starbird would activate his shield gauntlets, deflecting a series of bolts before sprinting at incredible speed down the alleyway. With one outstretched arm he'd clothesline the first trooper, wrapping them around the titanium beam of an arm like paper deflecting the second troopers vain attempt at stabbing Starbird with a knife they retrieved from their belt. Tossing the subconcious stormtrooper to the other three unconcious men, Starbird would turn to the final trooper. She would raise her rifle, Starbird's hand flying up to its barrel and crushing it in a show of force as he levitated a few inches from the ground, slowly moving towards the final trooper.
"Are there others?" His voice, masculine but deeply distorted, would bark out from behind the mask.
The trooper would growl under her breath before grabbing a second knife, jumping at him to attempt to stab into his neck. With blinding speed Starbird's hand would shoot out, grabbing the trooper by the neck. The force of the trooper's jump would knock the wind out of them, causing them to fall back struggling to breath.
Starbird, now hovering an inch above the trooper and looking down as they struggled to understand what was happening, would once again speak.
"Are there more of you? Where is the rest of your unit?" The trooper would only shake her head, starting to breath better and once again looking for a weapon on her belt.
With a sigh Starbird would kneel next to them, mutter a quiet 'sorry', and then slam his fist into the side of their helmet, knocking them out. With little effort he would lift the limp but still alive body of the trooper by the back of her armor's belt and levitate down the hall to drop her with the other four.
He had started his 'career' when the Alliance fell, and the Empire took Coruscant. He thought things were bad then, he had to help. But while he had been in the lower levels fighting gangs the Empire came further down. Not after anything other than safety as something more dangerous had taken control of Galactic City. Now the remnants of the Imperials had been trying to carve little fiefs for themselves, becoming another more of the thousands of gangs which called the lower levels home. It looked like this one was just a single squad of stormtroopers who broke away to try their luck, but he would need to interrogate them further when they learned they weren't getting away.
So he would drop the fifth trooper into the loose pile of dirty white armor, his feet finally meeting the ground as he would breathe out a sigh of relief. Coruscant was too big for any one man to save, or even help effectively. So he did what he could, helping the communities around him wherever he went. For now he would wait, keeping his mask on as the noise was sure to draw the curious to come looking. Hopefully they'd recognize him and leave him be, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd have to stop a mob from trying to dish out their own justice against the Imperials. Though, he knew, he really didn't offer anything better. His form of justice, which he would begin carrying out, involved the destruction of all the weapons each of the troopers had on them. One blaster and knife at a time being reduced to a hunk of unusable scrap.