21 -September -2018 - 00:58
Welcome, Guest
Username: Password: Remember me
Tales of the Old Republic is the place to post stories you have written about your character or others, either based upon roleplay that has occurred, or an entire side-story to events in-game which shed light on other parts of your character's life.
  • Page:
  • 1
  • 2


Erin 2 years 2 months ago #16140

  • Margo Faulkner
  • Margo Faulkner's Avatar
  • Offline
  • First Lieutenant
  • Posts: 2580
  • Thank you received: 1323
  • Karma: 41
The administrator has disabled public write access.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Braya Yasra, Lucasta, Eskkaar

Erin 2 years 2 months ago #16141

  • Margo Faulkner
  • Margo Faulkner's Avatar
  • Offline
  • First Lieutenant
  • Posts: 2580
  • Thank you received: 1323
  • Karma: 41

First Day

The clatter of cutlery against crockery is well pronounced, as is the smacking of lips. The family chatter, loudly, as the youngest member rises to clear the table. The remaining three express their thanks, before returning to the warmth of words.

The bubble is interrupted, briefly, as a personal comm unit begins to chirp. Erin reaches to her hip, retrieving the item to glance at the caller’s I.D. She rises at once, bounding away from the table and over towards the window, for a slip of privacy. She flashes an apologetic smile back towards the couple remaining at the table, her parents, calling as she moves:

“It’s work, I’d better take it! Go ahead and start on dessert, I won’t be a minute or--- Hello, Pryatt speaking. Captain, yes I… Mmmhm? No that’s fine, I can talk…”

Her conversation becomes indistinct as she turns towards the window. Her parents watch her, for a time, before turning to one another.

“It’s nice for us all to be together again. I’ve missed her so.”

“Mmmm… She has a whole new life, now. I can’t believe our little girl is all grown up already.”

“It seems like only yesterday that these two were bickering over the remote.” She turns her gaze from one daughter, her eldest, at the window, to look upon the younger currently loading the potwasher.

“Hah! Well, there’s time yet.” He chuckles, giving his wife’s hand a squeeze. They sit together in near silence, sharing only a murmur now and then, as they reminisce over fond memories spent raising their family.

Eventually, Erin returns, slowly pacing towards the table. She remains quiet, turning the comm unit in her hand, her focus elsewhere. Her Mother peers up at her, concern beginning to line her features.

“Erin…? Honey, is everything alright?”

“I… Yeah… My transfer. They’ve accepted my transfer…” She blinks, her own words seeming to lend truth and understanding to her situation. She perks at once, a bright grin marking her features. She sets the comm down on the table, giving a little ‘whoop’ as she repeats, before bounding excitedly about the room, embracing each and every one of them.

“They’ve accepted my transfer! The Captain found an opening at the main headquarters in Seven! I-I start next week!”

The quick march of two pairs of boots sound out, winding through the busy offices of CSF-7 H.Q. The heart of the sector, this was where the action was. This was where differences could be made.

One pair moves with long strides, heavy and purposeful. The other lags behind, though only because their owner stops and starts, gazing about herself in wonder, before hurriedly attempting to regain her composure in the presence of her new commanding officer.

“...and you’ll find all your access codes transferred before the end of shift. If you need anything before then, Goriene at the front desk can help you out. Of course, you could always ask your new partner, but…” He trails off, not particularly dwelling on that point. He turns suddenly, leading the pair between a few free standing desks and towards the line of offices on the south facing wall.

“Oh! I have a partner, already?” She beams, thick with enthusiasm as she hurries along after her leader. She pants ever so slightly, dazzled by the hustle and bustle, and surprised by the pace. Quite a change from the local offices she’s used to.

“You’re at the hub, now. The calibre of alerts you’ll be responding to is far above what you’ll have been used to at fourteen and twelve. Everyone works with a partner, here. Everyone. It’s simply not practical, or safe, to be working any other way.”

“That’s great! When do I get to meet him?” She shuffles aside, moving as others pass them by from the opposite direction. Again. And again. She is jostled by the traffic, though the waves part instinctively to allow the man ahead of her to pass without a word.

“Her. Right now. I’m taking you to her office… I suppose it’ll be your office, too, from here on in. Hopefully you’ll stick it out longer than the last one…” He mumbles something to himself, speaking again before she can register his words and question them.

“You should be well suited for each other. The constable and yourself have already met, that’s one of the reasons we chose you for this posting. We’ve had a little… difficulty finding compatible matches in the past.”

“Already…?” She slows to a stop, puzzling over the Lieutenant’s words. Dread fills her, as the pieces fall into place.

“... Ohhhhh, no. No, no, no, you can’t--!” She jogs after him, stepping in front of him to bar his entry to the room he aims to enter.

“Sir, you can’t mean Faulkner, surely? You can’t! I can’t! Please, Sir, there has to be somebody else. Anybody else!” His withering gaze sets upon her, before rising to something just over her shoulder. She cringes, visibly wincing as the familiar voice sounds out and she turns, slowly, to confirm for herself her fears.

“I agree with her, Lieutenant. I don’t need a partner, especially not this one. I can function perfectly well without. Better, even. If you expect me to--”

“Enough!” He cuts off her protestations, well expected by now. He raises a hand, jabbing an authoritative finger towards each of them in turn.

You know the rules by now. Nobody works here without a partner. No exceptions. If you don’t like it, I’ll send you back to one of the local stations where you can spend the rest of your career in litter and traffic. And you need to understand that this is the only vacancy we have. Now… I’m going to get back to work, and the two of you are going to figure this out. Understand?”

The pair of them stare at each other in silence. One seethes, the other sags.

“Good. I expect to hear no more of this.” And with that, he turns and marches from view, leaving the two women alone.

Margo turns, exasperated, though resigned to her fate. She heads back to her desk, intending to continue her work in silence. Erin remains in place, shuffling her feet awkwardly. Suddenly, she switches, reaching deep into her seemingly endless reserves of enthusiasm and good cheer.

“Well… It could be worse, I suppose! At least we don’t have to go through all the introductions and… We’re both a little older, now, we can just start over! So… how’ve you been, Margo?”

“Faulkner.” She replies. A moment of silence passes, as Erin waits for more. When it doesn’t come, she sidles her way over to her new desk, set face to face with her new partner’s.

“Faulkner, then. What’re… you working on?” More silence meets her, as the young and irritable redhead works away at her console. Erin waits, contemplating more questions, reaching for more avenues. Eventually, with a sigh, she takes another few steps towards Margo’s desk. She places both palms atop it, leaning down a little to make sure she won’t be ignored.

“Look. I’m not happy with this. You’re not happy with this. It doesn’t matter, does it. This is a damn good turn in my career and I’m not going to let you ruin it, just because you don’t know how to play nice with the other kids. So just… come on! At least give me a chance to show you whether I’m any good at this.”

Margo stares up at her from her desk, her fingers falling still. Erin feels a cold tingle work its way up her spine. Oh, hell… she probably should have thought this through…

“You’re right.”

“I am? I-I mean… I am!”

“Here.” Margo rises from her seat, heading over to a filing cabinet set against the wall behind her. She opens the second drawer, lifting out a handful of datapads. She sets them down in front of Erin, who lifts the first one at once. She scrunches up her brow as she looks through the file list… pages upon pages, seemingly endless reports.

“What’s this…?”

“That’s all the background of the case I’m working on. If you want to help me, you’ll need to read through it all.”

“But there’s… this’ll take me…”

“Yeah. So you had better get started, hmm?”

“Alright… Alright! I can do that! Bit of light reading, eh? Pfff, we’ll have it solved in no time, right? Right? C’mon, I’m gonna need a little caf if I’m pulling an all nighter. Y’can show me where the canteen is.”

“I’m not going t--”

“You don’t have a choice! I don’t have access codes yet, so you’ll need to mark up my drinks. You want me to read all this, I’ll need my caf.”

Margo returns a scowl, but she does at least round the desk and step towards the door.

“I’m going to make this work, y’know… Thanks for givin’ me a chance, yeah?” Erin steps up alongside her, giving her a playful nudge with her elbow. Margo takes a beat, a blink, parting her lips for her response.

Her response, be it scathing or supportive, is interrupted as a young officer unexpectedly steps into the doorway. He lifts a holocamera, snapping a shot of the pair as they chat. He chuckles away as both of them look over at him in confusion, in varying shades of distaste.

“Little memento for your new partnership, Faulkner! I’ll stick it on the wall with the others… if there’s any space left!” He chuckles away to himself, wandering off down the hallway. Margo remains quiet. Her gaze drops, suddenly embarrassed.

Erin, sweetly, misses the point altogether. Either that, or she pretends to.

“That was nice of him.”

Margo looks up, meeting her gaze, altogether perplexed.

“Mmmm…? No, he… You’ve missed the p--”

“Yeah, I think I might have to have that for my desk... Meet you in the canteen, alright?” And off she bounces after the photographer, not waiting for whatever Margo might throw at her.

Constable Margo Faulkner. Not quite the first day Erin was expecting. On the brighter side... It could be worse…

... Right?

Last Edit: 2 years 2 months ago by Margo Faulkner.
The administrator has disabled public write access.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Braya Yasra, Lucasta, Gloridenis Rexicalus, Emrys, Eskkaar

Erin 2 years 4 weeks ago #16312

  • Margo Faulkner
  • Margo Faulkner's Avatar
  • Offline
  • First Lieutenant
  • Posts: 2580
  • Thank you received: 1323
  • Karma: 41


“6 months!?” Margo jolts in surprise as her partner appears in the doorway to their shared office. Erin marches her way across to her desk, dumping her gym bag atop a stack of unfinished paperwork.

“6 months we’ve been partners and, all this time, you didn’t think to mention that we were part of the same fencing school!?” Her expression, her posture, her tone, as well as her words. Everything about the young blonde announces the incredulity of the matter at hand.

Margo, by contrast, remains unmoved. Monotone.

“You didn’t know. You’re quite accomplished. It was a welcome surprise. A refreshing challenge.”

“All this time! All this time it’s been you behind that mask. How can my great nemesis turn out to be you!?” Erin gestures wildly, in the approximate direction of Margo. She reins herself in at once, running her fingers back through her short, tousled hair. Slowly, as she comes to terms with the great revelation, her expression changes.

“Your great… what?” The stoic, monotone façade falters as confusion takes her.

“… Doesn’t matter. The point is… the point… is… wait a minute, this is fantastic! We can-- We can train together, share advice, posture, spar. We see each other everyday, it should be easy to arrange extra sessions.” Erin’s wild gestures return, this time miming out a daring, one sided display of swordsmanship. Her accompanying smile is dazzling, somehow childlike, lifting the room at once with her sudden good cheer.

“No, no, I don’t think--”

“Oh, come on! I’m easily the best competition you have there. Your only real rival, ah? Surely. Surely it makes sense for me to be your fencing partner.”

“I… suppose you might have a point…”

“Mmmhm! And! And… if we’re stuck on a case, we can always talk it over while we’re training. Exercise invites inspiration, right?”

“That… Alright, that does sound like an intriguing proposition. I’ll agree to it. Just to see how it goes, mind. I’m not saying that this is a permanent arrangement.” Margo finally agrees, if somewhat begrudgingly, to Erin’s proposal. She sits back in her seat, lightly drumming her fingers against her lower lip. There might be some merit to this afterall…

Her concentration wavers, as she casts her mind towards the upcoming tournament. Erin came close to beating her, last time. Training with her would be an excellent way to -- her train of thought is interrupted, as Erin reaches over to grasp her by the sleeve.

“C’mon, then! If anything of yours has rubbed off on me, it’s that there’s no point in procrastinating!” She averts her gaze from the pile of needy datapads on her desk. Okay, so perhaps it hasn’t quite rubbed over yet. She takes a few steps back, slinging her gym bag back over her shoulder and standing ready in the doorway, her grin wide and honest.

Margo holds up her hands in return, her gaze glancing about the room to her own desk, to the currently deactivated wall display. “Now isn’t the best time. I’ve got a lot of work to finish up here. Best case scenario; I’m going to be here all night.”

Erin pouts theatrically, but shrugs her shoulders. It isn’t unusual for Margo to linger around the office long after her shift. “Alright, but I’m gonna hold you to it. Catch you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Alright.” Comes the reply, as Erin wheels about and bounces away down the hall. She makes it most of the way to the lift before a call from the last office on the line reaches her ear.

“Hey, Erin!” Beslitt. One of the younger officers, still as full of enthusiasm as she is. She wanders in, parking her arse on the corner of his desk as she has done a hundred times before.

“Hey, Bes! What’ve you got for me?”

“Here. Better half of my firaxan slider. Couldn’t finish it, figured you… might…” His sentence trails off, no longer necessary, as Erin snatches up the sandwich and begins stuffing it into her gob. She mumbles something unintelligible, before pausing to swallow. Gesturing towards his desk’s inset display with the slider in her hand, she tries again.

“Lemme guess. Sportsnet?”

“Yup! New league starting at the end of the week. Hopin’ to get tickets to the final but… if it ain’t the Ogres, what’s the point?” She smiles in agreement, but busies herself with finishing her tasty donation. Beslitt takes the slim opportunity of silence to fill, nodding towards her gym bag.

“Training tonight?” She nods away, still chewing.

“Mmmhm… Mmmm, yeah! I was hoping to drag Faulkner along with me but, well, you know her. She’s got a stack of reports to get through.”

“Oh, yeah. She’d write a report about writing a report if she could. I can’t believe you’ve stuck it out this long!”

“Ahhh, she’s not so bad, once you… IF you can get to know her.”

“Nah, well…” He nods to the gym bag once more. “... I suppose you have something in common.” She stuffs another bite into her mouth. Despite the obstruction, she responds, as his attention turns back to the little screen on his desk, and the upcoming fixtures.

“Yeah, I guess we--” Movement catches the corner of her eye. She turns, her mouth still stuffed, to catch a fleeting glimpse of the redhead striding her way towards the exit.

“... I guess we do…”
Last Edit: 2 years 4 weeks ago by Margo Faulkner.
The administrator has disabled public write access.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Lucasta, Gloridenis Rexicalus, Dyston, Eskkaar

Erin 2 years 3 weeks ago #16313

  • Margo Faulkner
  • Margo Faulkner's Avatar
  • Offline
  • First Lieutenant
  • Posts: 2580
  • Thank you received: 1323
  • Karma: 41

Stuck With Me

Erin leaves the final few bites of her sandwich unfinished, dropping it back into the wrapper before sliding herself off of Beslitt’s desk. It doesn’t go unnoticed, as she steps over to the still open door and peers out into the corridor.

”You feelin’ alright, Erin…? It ain’t like you to leave food… or to not bite my hand off trying to get to it!” He laughs away to himself, which fades away into a nervous chuckle as she doesn’t return the expected response.

”Huh…? Oh, no, I’m just…” She eyes the corridor once more, just catching sight of the floor counter above the lift. Lobby. Her attention lingers here for a moment more, before she remembers herself and her sentence unfinished.

“...Uh… Watching my intake. I’ve got a… A dress I want to fit into, for the Ball next month.”

”Oh! I didn’t think you’d be going to that! I mean, it’s never really seemed like your kinda… Hah, and here I thought you were going to say it was for your training regime. Drutt was a hardass when it came to policing, I can’t imagine what he’s like to have as a coach!”

Training regime! That’s a much better explanation. Drat, why didn’t she think of that? She feigns a chuckle or two, slowly backing out of his office. She needs to get away. Quickly.

”So, uh, are you going with anyone? I mean, I wanted to ask you but, like I said, I didn’t think you’d be going, so I didn’t think to ask, but, yeah, I mean, if you’re interested maybe you’d like to go with m--”

”Ohhhhh, I’m sorry, Bes. There’s already someone I kinda wanted to…”

”Oh. Right, yeah. I mean, it’s no big--”

”Yep. Good. Glad you understand. I gotta… Sorry, I gotta go, I’ll catch you later…!” She calls the last few words back to him, already jogging her way to the lift. Poor Beslitt. She’d rather have had the time to let him down properly…

The triumphant ’Ping!’ announces her arrival in the lobby, and Erin jogs her way through surprised colleagues as she makes her way towards the door. She comes to an abrupt stop beside the doorman, hopping from foot to foot as she scans the streets just outside.

”Ah, Constable Pryatt, a pleasure to see you this evening. How may I be of assist--”

”Hey, El-Seven. I need to leave my gym bag with you for a little while, okay? Did you see Faulkner come through here?” The protocol droid takes Erin’s bag from her, bending at the waist to stow it beneath the little desk.

”Indeed, ma’am. Constable Faulkner left just a few moments ago, after having me check a sector address for her.” The overly friendly voice of the mechanical doorman floats up from beneath the desk, its owner still bent awkwardly to push the gym bag out of sight.

Erin leans over the desk, grasping the console’s display and twisting it around to face her. She takes a quick glance at the information still on screen, before making a swift exit.

”And when should I expect you to-- Oh! Oh I see.”
Last Edit: 2 years 3 weeks ago by Margo Faulkner.
The administrator has disabled public write access.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Lucasta, Gloridenis Rexicalus, Dyston, Eskkaar

Erin 2 years 3 weeks ago #16316

  • Margo Faulkner
  • Margo Faulkner's Avatar
  • Offline
  • First Lieutenant
  • Posts: 2580
  • Thank you received: 1323
  • Karma: 41


The taxi speeder comes to rest at a crossroads. The headlights cut through the low-light of the evening, illuminating a whisper trail of fog. After a few moments, the passenger emerges, turning her collar up against the cold. The night air is chill, and damp, and her gaze nervously follows the taxi as it makes its departure.

”What am I even doing here…” Erin murmurs to herself, turning slowly around on the spot as she gazes down each dimly lit alleyway in turn. ”No… what are you doing here…? Where the heck are you, Margo…”

Her eye settles upon a particular street name, and she steps forward into the gloom. Though the main street was populated, if sparsely, with local residents or passers by… the alley is silent. Empty.

Erin casts her gaze skyward. Or, it seems, approximately skyward. So far below the surface is she, that only the tangled web of a hundred fire escapes meets her eye. She shudders at the sight, jamming her hands deeper into her pockets as she nears the end of the alley, and the junction to another main street.

She steps into the dim yellow of a streetlight, but doesn’t explore any further. She lingers just outside the alleyway, peering left and right, scanning the scattering of people for… anything. Anyone familiar. She escapes disappointment in that regard, but what she finds isn’t quite what she had expected.

Erin furrows her brow, staring hard at a group of men gathered outside what appears to be some sort of bar, or club. Another speeder arrives, depositing yet another two to add to the group. Some of them file inside, welcomed by the doormen. She squints hard from her vantage point, focussing on the gentleman at the head of the party. Didn’t she arrest him last week…?

”You shouldn’t be here.” A voice, suddenly, from behind her. From right over her shoulder. She’d been so focussed on the group, she hadn’t noticed the approach. Erin jumps, only just managing to stifle a yelp of surprise as she wheels around to confront the woman.

”What the hell, Faulkner! You scared the skrag out of me!” Her accusations quickly descend into a hissed whisper, as Margo’s gaze wanders to see if the pair have been spotted.

”You followed me.”

”Of course I did! What the heck are you doing out here!?”

”You need to leave. Now.” Margo takes Erin by the wrist, turning her towards the fastest route out of the street. They haven’t managed a step before Erin wrenches herself free, using the same hand to thrust an angry finger up into Margo’s face.

”Not until you tell me what the hell is going on! I’m not just going to leave you out here in the middle of---” Margo grabs hold of Erin once more, pulling her back into the darkness of the alleyway. She presses them both up against the wall, shielding them from the headlights of yet another speeder as it crawls slowly by. They watch it pass, cheek to cheek, as it too comes to rest outside the club. The darkness hides their prying eyes. To any that come too close, they’d appear merely to be a pair of lovers, snatching a fleeting moment together.

A few minutes pass before Margo moves again. She whispers once more. ”Go home.”, before releasing Erin from her pin. She slips from the darkness, her attention focussed solely on the vehicle just arriving. As she kneels behind a nearby parked speeder, peering through the windows to the scene at the other side of the street, she becomes aware of her partner crouched beside her.

Margo turns to her. Before she can voice, once more, her protestations, Erin begins to shake her head. Another moment passes between them, silently voicing their respective points of view. The lock of their eyes is broken by a commotion across the street. Together, they peer through the windows of their hiding place, taking in all they can. A few snippets of conversation, gleaned without context. A name. A face.

Erin grabs Margo’s arm, hissing. ”He’s coming this way…!”. Margo follows her gaze to the familiar face now approaching from across the street. The pair of them share a moment of panic, glancing this way and that. There’s nowhere for them to slip away to without being seen.

Margo drops to the floor, rolling beneath the parked speeder. She pulls Erin along with her, and the pair lie side by side, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the underside of their previous hiding spot. They both hold their breaths, though only one would care to admit it.

A pair of boots appear, barely inches from Margo’s eye. They linger, for a moment, before a spent cigarillo drops beside them to be trodden into the floor. The speeder jostles as the man climbs into the driver’s seat. Another moment passes before the partners hear a muffled, one sided conversation from within the speeder itself.

”Yeah, it’s me. Are we set to go tomorrow night?... Yeah… Yeah, I know… Someone’s been sniffin’ around, so the boss wants it movin’ soon as possible… No, should be fine, just slip em a couple’ sedatives… Yeah, each… Alright, have em ready, I’ll be there in the mornin’ to inspect em’... With what?... Why, what’s wrong with em?... Nah, I dunno. Keep em if you want, just have the rest ready for… Yeah, tomorrow mornin’. See y’then.”

Silence follows. Only a few moments, before the speeder grumbles to life. It pulls away, leaving the pair lying in the road, staring upward to where the sky ought to be.

The street has emptied, the group having long since retreated within the club. Minutes pass, and the silence persists, broken only by the sound of Erin’s panting as her adrenaline begins to drain away.

Margo is the first of them to move. She sits up, before pulling herself to her feet. She begins her quick march back into the darkness, even as Erin still dusts herself off.

”Hey, wait for--!”

”Go home, Erin.” She strides on a few more paces, before coming to a stop. She turns, her form merely a silhouette against the backdrop of the night. ”We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Just… go home, and get some sleep.”.

And with that, the shadow becomes one with the darkness.
Last Edit: 2 years 3 weeks ago by Margo Faulkner.
The administrator has disabled public write access.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Lucasta, Gloridenis Rexicalus, Dyston, Eskkaar

Erin 2 years 3 weeks ago #16352

  • Margo Faulkner
  • Margo Faulkner's Avatar
  • Offline
  • First Lieutenant
  • Posts: 2580
  • Thank you received: 1323
  • Karma: 41

This Is My Burden

”Come in. Close the door.” The voice, stern as usual, meets Erin the very moment she steps into her office. She starts in surprise, checking her chrono. She’s almost half an hour early herself. She’d intended to use the time to figure out what the heck to say to Faulkner. Hell, the night she spent tossing and turning, awake in bed, certainly didn’t yield any results. How long has her partner been waiting here for her…?

Despite her wandering thoughts, she does as she is commanded, stepping into the modest little office and sealing the door slowly behind herself. She turns to her partner, stood looking over something on the wall mounted display.

”I’m glad you’re here. I think I deserve an explanation. What the hell happened last night!?” Erin puffs up her chest, fighting down the nervous quiver of her lip. Her expression takes on a comical pout, which goes unnoticed.

”Shut up and come here. We don’t have long to talk.” Margo speaks, curtly, her gaze not once leaving the interlinked diagrams she so closely inspects.

Erin takes a breath, ready to protest the rudely given instructions. She snaps her jaw closed again, words unspoken, stepping over to Margo’s side. She turns her gaze, from her partner to the display; a tangled hierarchy, thick with additional annotations, case numbers and evidence logs. She stares for a while, taking time to digest the information, before her attention finally settles on a holograph, somewhere towards the top of the pyramid.

”I knew I recognised him! That’s the guy we brought in last week. Speeder-jacking, wasn’t it? He was carrying an unregistered blaster.”

”Mmmhm. He walked the next morning.” Margo folds her arms, still gazing up at the web forming between the faces on the wall.

”What…? How is that poss--... What is all this?” She gestures widely, towards the carefully collected information now before her.

”It’s a network. Something simmering below the surface.” Margo glances to Erin, then back to the display. She reaches up, pointing to each of the interconnected faces in turn. ”Trafficking. Prostitution. Narcotics manufacture. Murder. Arms smuggling. Not limited to, but these seem to be their areas of expertise.”

Erin furrows her brow, squinting hard at each of the holos in turn. ”So, our guy’s a people trafficker…”. She mulls the matter a moment longer, before her face relaxes slightly. She turns back to Margo, her eyes wide.

”But this isn’t our case. This is… this is way above our level.”

”It isn’t anybody’s case. It’s like… it doesn’t exist. Like they don’t exist. I want to know why. I want to stop them.”

”That’s why you didn’t tell me about it. Why you wanted me to leave last night. You wanted to keep me out of…” Erin trails off, her words replaced by a wide grin as she peers up at her companion. She leans a little closer, giving Margo a gentle, teasing nudge with her elbow. Her tone, equally as teasing. ”You care about meeee…!”

Margo stares at her in return, bewildered. She gives a little huff, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. ”I care about getting this done properly.”

”Pffffshh! You can bluster and kerfuffle all you want, but I know the truth. Stuffy old Maggie cares about what happens to her partner…!” Erin continues to grin, though her focus has switched back to the display. Her tone carries a lyrical quality to it, and she’s clearly relishing how uncomfortable she’s making her colleague feel.

”What did you just---”

”Well you said I wasn’t allowed to call you ‘Margo’.”

”I’d rather you didn’t.”

Erin pouts, over theatrically. She folds her arms, mimicking Margo’s own stance. Her tone adopts a childlike quality, as she continues to playfully tease her partner.

”Well, I’m still gunna.” She flinches, as Margo turns suddenly to face her. She reaches up, attempting to redirect the conversation before her companion destroys her entirely.

”Maybe we should focus on this, yeah? Who’s this guy?” She stretches high, pointing to the empty space at the peak of the pyramid. Margo peers upward, before shaking her head, somewhat defeatedly.

”Head of the network. The leader.” She glances over to Erin, who peers back at her expectantly. ”That’s all I know.”

”Huh… okay, well… Maybe we can put pressure a little lower, see what happens. Do you have enough to bring any of these guys in on?”

”Almost. It needs to be airtight, or whichever of them we pull will just walk again. Especially as I don’t know where…” Margo trails off, not wanting to voice what she truly fears.

”You think they’ve got someone on our payroll, don’t you.” Erin searches Margo’s expression, and is met only by a quiet little nod. ”Alright. Then we keep this just between us. For now, anyway.”

The pair lapse into silence, both studying the wall display. A little time passes before Erin voices a realisation, reaching up to point at the familiar face from the night previous.

”Last night, when we were under the… Didn’t this guy say he was coming to inspect goods for removal this morning?”


”And you said he’s a trafficker? So that’s people, then? He’s moving people?" Erin breaks away, moving quickly back over to her desk. She bends over her inset console, fishing around in her jacket for her access card.

”I kept a note of his speeder’s I.D plates. If we flash ‘em over the system, we might be able to find him right now. We can head down there and stop this move from happening.”

”No. We can’t."

Silence falls between them once more, as Erin struggles to comprehend. She’s still bent over her console, as Margo turns about to face her, her expression solemn.

”Whadd’you mean ‘We can’t.’?”

”If we reveal our hand too soon, then this…?" She gestures back to the months of work displayed behind her. ”This will all be for nothing. Yes, we might interrupt this deal, but we’ll lose our advantage. We’ll lose our opportunity. The web will withdraw beyond our reach and, him? He’ll be out within the week, because we won’t have enough evidence to pin him to whatever we find down there.”

”Whatever we find down there?” Erin rights herself, slowly stepping around her desk to bring her once more face to face with her partner, if a few paces apart. ”You know exactly what we’re going to find down there. People. Ten? A hundred?”

”We can save a hundred right now…” Margo takes a breath, blinking hard. ”... Or we can wait… and save ten thousand. Possibly more, if this extends beyond the Capital.”

Erin takes a step closer, then falters. She runs her fingers back through her hair, clearly agitated and no longer able to tame herself.

”What!? What the hell kind of choice is that!? How can you make a decision like that? How can you be so… so…”

”So cold!? Go on, say it! You really think I haven’t heard it all before?” Margo clenches and unclenches her fists, her breath growing ragged. ”How can I make a decision like that? I can’t. It’s impossible. It’s impossible.” Her body trembles. She blinks hard, again, her eyes glistening in the early morning light.

”But what choice do I have…? There isn’t one. There isn’t a choice. It’s an illusion. You think I haven’t been here, all night, wrestling with this? You think it isn’t going to claim another piece of my… of my…” Her words fail her. Her hand, instinctively, comes to rest over her heart. The hard façade has slipped and, just for a moment, Erin manages a glimpse at the woman hidden beneath.

She takes a step to close the space between them, pulling Margo into a reluctant embrace. She hushes, soothingly. ”It’s okay, Maggie. It’s okay.” As she whispers, she feels her companion give in, sagging against her.

”You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”
Last Edit: 1 year 4 months ago by Margo Faulkner.
The administrator has disabled public write access.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Lucasta, Gloridenis Rexicalus, Dyston, Eskkaar

Erin 2 years 3 weeks ago #16364

  • Margo Faulkner
  • Margo Faulkner's Avatar
  • Offline
  • First Lieutenant
  • Posts: 2580
  • Thank you received: 1323
  • Karma: 41


”... and what’s this!? That’s number five coming up on the outside! Number five, the Ogre’s new rising star, Thurbrand Coop! He’s going for the take….! What a collision! He’s got it! Look at that leap! Here he goes! That’s Coop, going for the score, and the first point of the match…!”

The tiny little corner office is crammed full, all eyes on the wall display ready for the outcome of this particularly tense match. They jostle, shoulder to shoulder, all clad in the matching grey and yellow of the Coruscant Security Forces. They wince together. They hold their breaths together. They cheer as one.

”Go on, my son!”
”He’s done it!”
”YES! They won’t come back from that!
”Ogres rule!”

Erin lingers towards the back of the cluster, laughing along with the celebrations. She cranes her neck, weaving left and right to see over the shoulders of some of her larger co-workers. They cheer, again, pouring drinks and clashing mugs together in messy, over enthusiastic toasts.

The racket soon simmers down to an excitable babble, in which the young woman eagerly partakes.

”No, no, the way I see it, we can hop the wire and take the skytram all the way.”

”A’you mad? You wanna take the skytram to see the Ogres play the final… at home!? That thing’ll be packed! Everyone’ll be headed there!”

”Well, what’s the alternative?”

”Gruun has an airspeeder, doesn’t he? We can all squeeze into that! Maybe even flash the lights and take a few shortcuts…?”

”Flash the… We can’t do that!”

”I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

”Uhhh… I don’t think we’ll all fit in Gruun’s airspeeder…”

”We’ll be fine! Erin here can sit on my lap.”

”Hah! I’d rather sit on the roof!”

More laughter erupts. The group descends into yet more excited chatter. Erin folds her arms, rocking on her feet as she grins at them, as she gazes at them. Eventually, her gaze wanders, as the subject matter diverges into topics a little too testosterone fuelled for her taste.

The thunder of feet is her first warning, a set of boots clunking down the corridor at a sprint. She hears it, though the others don’t, too engrossed in their banter. She turns a little further, catching a fleeting glimpse of Margo as she passes by the open door. Erin’s eyes widen, and she sprints after her, bare instinct lurching her into action.

”Erin? Erin! Where’re y’goin…!” The call goes ignored, trailing away behind her as she barrels down the corridor towards the lift.

She comes to a sudden halt within the lift itself. As she turns, she smiles wide with realisation, spotting Margo holding the doors open for her. The redhead withdraws her hand, and the lift begins its descent.

”So, what’s the word?”

”The warrant came through on the tower. I flashed his plates already. He’s over at the cargo-port. The best chance we’ve got of catching him with something incriminating…”

”Is to snag him when he first gets home. You still sure they don’t know we’ve got his home address?”

”Mmmhm. Here, you’ll need this.” Margo hands over a blaster, still in its holster. Erin’s blaster, specifically. As she takes it, she glances down to see Margo’s already strapped securely in place. She was expecting trouble, and she was expecting Erin. The poor young woman isn’t sure which of these to focus on. As she reaches for her holster, she also reaches for the latter, and in doing so feels her spirits bolster.

Erin nods in thanks, strapping her weapon in place. With a little luck, this’ll go smoothly.

The pair finish their elevator ride in silence, checking their equipment, as well as their breathing. They come to rest at the garage and, with a ’Ping!’, the doors slide open. Margo leads the way, marching quickly and purposefully across the landing area, with Erin in tow, still fiddling with the strap about her thigh.

Margo comes to a stop beside a speeder bike, her own, immediately swinging her leg over and beginning the ignition sequence. As the repulsors thrum to life, she turns, her expression steely and determined.

“Are you ready?”

Erin repeats Margo’s action, swinging her own leg over and settling into the rear half of the seat. She grips the machine with her thighs, slipping her arms about Margo’s waist ready in anticipation of the upcoming, likely sudden, acceleration.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”
Last Edit: 2 years 3 weeks ago by Margo Faulkner.
The administrator has disabled public write access.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Lucasta, Gloridenis Rexicalus, Dyston, Eskkaar

Erin 1 year 11 months ago #16461

  • Margo Faulkner
  • Margo Faulkner's Avatar
  • Offline
  • First Lieutenant
  • Posts: 2580
  • Thank you received: 1323
  • Karma: 41


“Still no sign?”

“No. Nothing yet.”

Margo lowers the macrobinoculars, giving the tower block opposite another once over with the naked eye, before clipping the small device back in place beneath her speeder’s main control panel.

The pair of them still sit straddling the vehicle, now parked upon the corner of an overlooking rooftop. Erin swings her left leg over to join her right, flexing her feet out a little.

Margo glances back at her, over her shoulder, before returning her gaze to the inset display to check the time.

“It could still be a while, you know.”

“Hmmm? Oh, I know. That’s alright. I was just…” She trails away, unintentionally, peering over the edge of the building as she swings her legs.

“Something on your mind?” Margo makes some fine calibrations to the speeder’s settings. A reliable little thing, though swift and agile, she’s had it for a long time now.

“Dresses.” Erin responds, wincing at once. The filter between her brain and her mouth seems to have a fair few gaping holes in it.

Margo looks back over her shoulder once more, before twisting at the waist to look upon her partner properly, her right hand bracing herself on the saddle between them as she does so. Her expression says it all, grasped by her confusion.

“... What?”

“Oh! No, I meant---” Erin flaps her hand to the redhead beside her, as if to swat away her previous statement. She peers upwards, to the sky, her eyes following a few wisping trails that climb towards the stars masked beyond.

“Are you going to the annual ball? It’s only a couple of days away.”

Margo rolls her eyes, returning to her task. “I don’t dance.”

“Yes you do!” Erin reaches over suddenly, playfully cuffing Margo on the back of her shoulder. “You and I fence together, remember? You can’t have footwork like that and have me believe that you can’t dance.”

Margo grumbles to herself, though doesn’t yet cease her pointless task. “No… I didn’t say that I can’t dance. I said that I don’t.”

“Ah. Right. So, you won’t be going then…?”




“Oh, well… Uh… I was thinking that maybe you might want to….? Y'know.” She trails off again, turning her head to peer at her companion.

Margo’s shoulders still, as she interrupts her calibrations. She turns once more, to meet her partner’s gaze, and is met by a shrug, and a sweetly inquisitive smile.

“Hmmm…? Oh, right. Wait… you mean…?”


“Right. Okay. Uh…” She pauses, her lips still parted. Finally, she takes another breath, her brows peaking. “Well, I guess I--”

An urgent chirping from the speeder’s console interrupts her, and grasps their collective attention. Margo checks the readouts, whilst Erin peers across to the tower opposite.

“There, the black one. Is that him?” She swings her leg back across the speeder, shuffling into position, before trying to peer over Margo’s shoulder to the display.

“Mmmhm, confirmed. Let’s go.” The speeder flares into life at once as Margo takes the controls, grasping tightly and settling her feet back into place. Erin’s arms loop about her waist as the pair ready themselves for what comes next.

“Right here with you. Let’s do this.”
Last Edit: 1 year 11 months ago by Margo Faulkner.
The administrator has disabled public write access.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Lucasta, Gloridenis Rexicalus, Dyston, Eskkaar

Erin 1 year 11 months ago #16471

  • Margo Faulkner
  • Margo Faulkner's Avatar
  • Offline
  • First Lieutenant
  • Posts: 2580
  • Thank you received: 1323
  • Karma: 41


“Drop me off on the roof.”


“No, look! He’s got a full line of speeders up there. If he slips by us, we’ll lose him. Drop me up there, and you head down. Pincer.”

“I don’t like this. We shouldn’t split up.”

“You were going to do this by yourself, remember?”

“... Alright.” Margo pulls upward, bringing the speeder alongside the rooftop. Erin swings her leg over and hops down, running her fingers through her fringe as the wind whips about her. She turns, stepping backwards away from Margo as she waves a short goodbye, and offers a thumbs up.

Margo nods to her in return, watching her partner jog away towards an access point. She leans to the left, easing the speeder down away from the roof and towards the main landing pad. She powers down, hopping quickly from the vehicle and striding purposefully into the lobby.

Her footfalls sound out against the polished marble flooring, echoing about the foyer as she marches towards some sort of reception desk. Behind the desk, a man rises from his seat to meet her. His arms barely fit within his shirt sleeves. His neck bulges from his collar. His bald head is criss crossed with scars. He’s certainly not like any receptionist she’s ever seen before..

“Constable.” He smiles, his voice too low and gravelly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I have a warrant to search these premises.” She produces her I.D, the warrant papers flickering into holographic form just above. “I need you to step aside, please.”

The hulking behemoth leans forward, studying the information offered to him. He shakes his head, slowly. “There must be some mistake. The name you have listed… That man doesn’t live here.”

She frowns, hard, shaking her head. “You know that isn’t true.”

“Now, now… How about we just get the judge on the comms and get this… this little mixup all straightened out.” He reaches for a comm unit, as she steps to the left, heading for a stairway behind the desk.

“I haven’t got time for this.”

The clerk moves to block her path, towering above her, his frown deep enough to rival her own.

“Step aside, or I’ll have to detain you for obstructing a security officer in their duties.” She reaches for her blaster, resting her hand against the grip, though not yet drawing it. His eyes drop to take note. Her eyes raise to see the additional goons filing in from the stairwell to block her advances.

“Try it.”

She raises her hands, submissively, slowly backpedalling her way across the lobby. The man sneers as she turns, quick marching her way back to the speeder.

Margo reaches for her comm unit, patching swiftly through to headquarters.

“This is Faulkner one-five-four-nine to H.Q, requesting backup at Kleffin tower, corner of six and nine. Assistance required for execution of warrant, suspects in obstruction. Over.”

“Reading you, Faulkner. I thought the Kleffin warrant was going to---”

“I took it. Send a squad. Now.”

“The Captain isn’t going to like---”

“Is it going to take an officer down before you move your ass on this.”

“...Alright, alright. I’ve got… two units in your vicinity. En route.”

She cuts the channel, switching hurriedly across to a second one.

“Erin. It’s a bust out front. I’ve got a couple of units en route, but the suspect definitely knows we’re here now. Keep your eyes open for evidence we can trace, but stay away from a confrontation until the others get here.”

She waits, her comm returning quiet static. She raises the unit again.


Margo waits, and receives still no return. She replaces the unit, swinging her leg back over the speeder and pulling quickly away from the landing pad. Within the foyer, the oversized receptionist watches her go, turning slowly to reach for his own comm unit.

“Put me through to upstairs…”

Erin slips into the penthouse suite, stepping across the hallway, slowly and quietly. She passes by a number of doors, peeking briefly inside, before entering what seems to be some sort of office. She looks over the computer screens, reaching into her belt for a datastick… before her gaze lands upon a datapad on the desk. She picks it up. As she looks over the data, she smirks. It seems her job has already been done for her…

A sound causes her to turn. Footsteps, voices, somewhere in the suite. She steps back out into the hall, readying her blaster. A potbellied, middle aged man rounds the corner, freezing when he sees her.

“How the hell--”

“Destris Lokan. I have a warrant for your arrest. Get down onto your knees, and place your hands on the back of your head.”

The man raises his hands, though instead of lowering to his knees, he slowly breaks into a grin. The fingers of his right hand twitch, summoning the cluster of goons stood just behind him. They advance. Each of them wields a blaster of their own, and each of them wears an unfortunately mean expression.

“Oh, skrag--” Erin turns, bolting at once back up the staircase to the rooftop. How the hell did they misjudge this so poorly!?

She shoulders the door open, sprinting across to one of the waiting speeders. Rather than swing her leg over, she dives behind it, as a blaster bolt screeches over her head. She peeks over, returning a pair of her own to catch the villain in the shoulder. She aims again, her eyes scanning the rooftop for the second goon…

A huge, meaty hand grasps her by the shoulder, throwing her backwards and sending her skidding across the roof. She reaches for her blaster, loosened from her grip, as a huge boot treads down upon the back of her wrist. As she struggles, the lumbering henchman bends to take the blaster from her hand, tossing it over the side of the building to tumble to the depths below.

He releases her, only for another pair of hands to wrench her to her feet. She is turned in his grasp, coming face to face with Lokan as he tightens his hand about her neck, maneuvering her forcibly towards the edge. She struggles in his grip, her spine chilling as she becomes acutely aware of how calm her opponent seems… and how close she is to the edge. She feels the heel of her boot kick out against nothing, as her comm chirps in her ear.

“Erin. It’s a bust out front. I’ve got a couple of units en route, but the suspect definitely knows we’re here now. Keep your eyes open for evidence we can trace, but stay away from a confrontation until the others get here.”

Lokan smiles wide, lifting the young constable upwards, suspending her across the abyss by nothing but the hold he has on her neck.

Last Edit: 1 year 11 months ago by Margo Faulkner.
The administrator has disabled public write access.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Lucasta, Dyston, Eskkaar

Erin 1 year 11 months ago #16472

  • Margo Faulkner
  • Margo Faulkner's Avatar
  • Offline
  • First Lieutenant
  • Posts: 2580
  • Thank you received: 1323
  • Karma: 41

I've got you

Erin kicks her legs, wildly. A motion of futility. Her writhing slows, despite her adrenaline, as the vice grip keeping her from falling also keeps her from breathing.

“You’ll set a lovely example to those not willing to play by the new rules. A lovely… messy example.” He grins, squeezing her tighter still.

Erin’s vision blurs, and darkens. Is he planning to choke her, or drop her? She’s not sure if she has a preference, in this particular case. Funny, the things you think about at the end. Like the nasty bit of green stuck between Lokan’s teeth. Druk… Just when everything was starting to go so well...

She rolls her eyes back, willing herself to kick out once more. Sorry, Margo… Too tired…

Bright red flashes flare to either side of her. Left. Right. One. Two. Blaster bolts, dropping the pair of goons too engrossed in the grisly murder in progress to keep an eye out for intruders. Lokan looks beyond his captive, to the speeder hovering stationary just beyond, and the still hot blaster grasped in its rider’s hand.

“Put her down, Lokan!” She bellows, her voice carrying across the rooftops despite the winds that batter them so.

Erin jolts, kicking her legs once again, Margo’s demands loosening his grip and wrenching her from her stupor.

“... Shoot him!”

He sneers at her, writhing helplessly in his grasp. His gaze shifts back to the redhead, visibly gripped by rage. She’ll kill him, he has no doubt. A good thing he has the upper hand, then.

“Put her down...?” He pauses, if only for the sake of dramatic flair. “With pleasure.”

He releases his grip, letting Erin slip between his fingers and plummet into the skylanes below. The moment passes by at an agonising pace. A hundred thoughts. A thousand emotions. A single choice. She can kill him, or she can try in vain to save her partner.

His sickening grin grows only wider, as he turns to walk free…

Margo reacts, even before her mind has fully processed the scene unravelling before her. She drops the front of her speeder, accelerating directly downward into the spiralling depths below. She glances upwards, or now, downwards, desperately trying to keep her tumbling partner in view. The speeder twists and starts, dashing graceful pirouettes between the dangerous, cleaving lines of traffic in her path.

It is clear that trying to catch Erin is a hopeless endeavour. No thought. Action. She reaches for her grapple line, steadying and steering the speeder with only the grip of her thighs. She readies the gun… before rolling aside, narrowly avoiding a taxi.

She tries again, as the air grows darker around them, as they near the depths and the end of their journey. The winds rage against her at this speed, challenging her aim and stinging her eyes.

She fires.

The speeder ditches, clipping against an airbus that cuts across her path. She wavers, managing to land heavily upon a nearby rooftop. The vehicle cartwheels away from her, splitting into pieces as she, herself, rolls and skids across the rooftop. She rests, her fingers twitching…

A gentle hiss, the sound of the grapple line slithering along the ground beside her. Margo’s eyes fly open as the line reaches its end, secured at her belt, and she is pulled violently towards the edge of the rooftop. She wrestles with it, rolling onto her back, sliding feet first towards the edge. She braces herself, ready to catch her boots against the ledge.

The connection is sudden, and violent, wrenching her to her feet as she struggles to keep hold of whatever dangles below her on the line. She steadies herself, peering over the edge… to catch a glimpse of a grey and yellow uniform.

Margo leans back as she begins to pull, using her own weight as counterbalance. Her gaze reaches the skies, unshed tears still hazing her vision. She pulls. For all she’s worth, she pulls.

Finally, a hand, and she reaches for it, dragging her partner up onto the platform and away from the edge. A slick trail of blood follows behind her, the point of Margo’s line anchored clean through her partner's right thigh.

The redhead drops to her knees, checking for a pulse, checking her breathing, desperate for a response.

“Erin! Erin, I’ve got you. Erin…!” Her voice breaks, ragged and worn. She cradles Erin’s features in hand, her breath catching as she weeps.

Erin’s fingers find Margo’s features in turn, and she murmurs, weakly.

“I’m okay…” The voice is small, but it is beautiful in its message. Margo dips her head, taken by her relief. She rests her forehead against that of her partner as she murmurs again, as the distant sounds of police sirens begin to descend upon them.

“... We’re okay…”
Last Edit: 1 year 4 months ago by Margo Faulkner.
The administrator has disabled public write access.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Lucasta, Dyston, Eskkaar
  • Page:
  • 1
  • 2
Time to create page: 0.224 seconds
2018  First Expeditionary Fleet