Lord Gaius
Chosen
Hasjo Hallu, Knight of the Silver Jedi Order and former Commander of the Republic Fleet sped across the barren wasteland. In his wake he left a cloud of billowing brown sediment. He wore old Phase II armour that had long since been unused for nigh a millennium. His brown cloak flapping in the wind as it spread out across his back. His helmet tightly fitted onto his head, his headtresses hidden within. A small lightsaber hilt clung to his belt. The hilt was far too small for the large hands of a fully grown male Nautolan, more-so the size of a young female humans hands. He looked ahead to the city of Mos Espa where he would search the city. As a Peacekeeper, he had made it his duty to travel to the Outer Rim Territories and quell whatever criminal activity occurred.
He felt something tug at his mind. He suddenly twisted the handles of his speeder bike, banking hard right to race around the outskirts of the city. He followed where this presence was, but it evaded him. He couldn't place his finger on it, but he didn't like it. His connection to the Force was not strong but nonetheless, this was something he could sense. He began to decelerate quickly, entering the city streets at a casual pace. He stood out. A man in white Phase II armour patrolling the streets on an equally white speeder bike. Many gave him scowls and curious glances, a few outright swore at him. People here clearly weren't fans of soldiers. He tore his helmet from his head and clipped it onto his bike. His immense Nautolan eyes soaking in the landscape as he searched for the source of what he felt.
@[member=sabrina]
He felt something tug at his mind. He suddenly twisted the handles of his speeder bike, banking hard right to race around the outskirts of the city. He followed where this presence was, but it evaded him. He couldn't place his finger on it, but he didn't like it. His connection to the Force was not strong but nonetheless, this was something he could sense. He began to decelerate quickly, entering the city streets at a casual pace. He stood out. A man in white Phase II armour patrolling the streets on an equally white speeder bike. Many gave him scowls and curious glances, a few outright swore at him. People here clearly weren't fans of soldiers. He tore his helmet from his head and clipped it onto his bike. His immense Nautolan eyes soaking in the landscape as he searched for the source of what he felt.
@[member=sabrina]