Lord Gaius
Chosen
Hasjo Hallu walked the streets of the Entertainment District. Citizens moved aside, avoiding the armoured brute. The rain poured down in the buckets as neon lights danced upon the night sky. He had never felt so truly alone in his life as he did right now. He had lost many of his friends to the war, and the friends that were still alive were currently Missing In Action due to this catastrophe, or currently Prisoners of War. He knew this first-hand. He had almost become one of these prisoners of war. Nonetheless, he had suffered from the conflict. He now lived inside a Mobile Life Support System, the MLSS. It gave him an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia, anonymity and loneliness. He spent his days occupying his mind from these troublesome thoughts. He glanced to his right from underneath his light brown cloak, looking over the Outlander Club. Music violated the ears as party-goers from all over the Galaxy assembled here for a night of dancing and narcotics.
He needed to find the others. Those who had survived the sacking of the Jedi Temple. They hid in the darkest corners of Coruscant, fleeing from wrongful prosecution. He understood why more than a usual amount of people were out these nights. It had become a dreary place to exist for those that believed in the Republic, and a night of alcohol and drugs could help one forget such miserable dealings. He turned his back to the taunting fun and fled further into the city streets. Vermin skittered out of his way. Airspeeders zoomed overhead. Hasjo recalled a time when he had regularly visited the Entertainment District as a young man. Regularly visiting cantina's for dinner with his uncle. The Galaxy would never be the same, even if the Republic took back Coruscant. Sweeping his gaze to the sky above where towers as tall as the heavens rose, he wondered what else was going on in the Galaxy tonight. . .
[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]