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| SRCA FILE #02417 |
|---|
| BASIC INFORMATION |
[FULL NAME] JAMES DEMETRIUS KNIGHT[ALIAS] RANGER KNIGHT[AGE] 29[SPECIES] HUMAN[FACTION] SECTOR RANGERS[RANK] RANGER |
______[GENDER] | ______[HEIGHT] | ______[WEIGHT] | ______[HAIR COLOR] | ______[EYE COLOR] |
___[CURRENT LOCATION] | ___[STATUS] | ___[FORCE SENSITIVITY] | ___[CLEARENCE LEVEL] |
[ASSET SUMMARY]
Blaster, Comlink, Standard SR Ship
[BIO]
The street was dark, the rain was heavy. Strangers went this way and that, into alleyways, out of pubs, across the streets. A single dim street lamp lit the corner James waited on. Just out of the light, away from prying eyes, he sat leaned against the corner of a tall structure just under an awning that protected him from the heavy downpour. His hands were buried in his trenchcoat pockets, hidden from view. In his hands he held a listening device, controlling a small mic he had thrown near a door that blocked off an alleyway further down the street. Through his earpiece he could hear the rain pattering near the the locked door. His blaster was tucked under his left arm, in a sling holster next to his badge.
“Someone’s gotta show up eventually…”, thought James.
Though he had been waiting hours, Ranger Knight had grown great patience in the last 6 years. They always screwed up, it was in their nature. Sooner, later, it was all the same. The one thing he knew was true about criminals was they were great at getting caught. He enjoyed counting, in the beginning. It was still new, it was still a game. Time and time again he got his man, and after a time the number became troublesome to remember. He had never imagined the amount of ill-willed individuals that roamed the galaxy, and when his number continued to grow so quickly, he became afraid. The fear he held was not for himself, as that was something that had long passed. It was a fear he took the burden of carrying for the rest of the galaxy. The galaxy of helpless people that become prey to these individuals, often refusing to acknowledge the existence of the crimes occurring around them on a daily basis. He feared for their lives, for their safety, and for their wellbeing.
Someone approached the door. “The hour is late, aren’t you tired?”, they said as the slat at eye level opened. The door opened, and they entered.
That’s what it was, he had realized, the day he almost said frack it all. That was what kept him going. He refused to let the wolf at the door into the pasture. No matter how hard it became on him, or on the ones he loved. Whether his crusade demanded his life, or simply his dedication, he didn’t care. The wolf would not be allowed to enter. He had been 23 when the Sector Rangers had commed his division head on Correllia. They had looked over his service record, and were highly interested. One-hundred convictions in 2 years? Impressive.
“The hour is late, aren’t you tired?”, said the next patron some 20 minutes later.
Great at getting caught, all of them.
He gave it another 20 minues, then started over. Removing his hands from his coat pockets and pulling his trenchcoat tight, he walked into the rain towards the alleyway door.
“The hour is late, aren’t you tired?”, Knight said confidently.
The eyes through the slat squinted at him, but the door swung open. Stepping into the alleyway he glanced around. The alley was completely empty, save for a door some thirty feet in over which a single light swung slowly in the rain. He walked over, mumbling instructions and directions quietly into the comm attached to his coat collar. He opened the lone door, stepping through and pulling it closed. It was warm inside, and the room was large and filled with guests. Patrons walked in every direction, perusing the goods of the black market hub. Slaves, weapons, pets, chems, cybernetics, even lightsabers. An entire warehouse of goodies being sold. It took him a few minutes, then he spotted him. The man who ran this fine establishment, a tall Duros named Borno. Borno’s back was turned, so Knight started towards him. He closed the distance putting his trigger hand on his weapon, ready to draw as he grew closer.
How did he know? They always seemed to know. Borno turned as James got within a few feet.
“Ah, my favorite Ranger, James Knight”, Borno said with an insidious smirk, “I’m so glad you could make it. I’d have thought you would be smarter than to wear the same old coat again. Do you really think I haven’t briefed my men about you?”
Before he could answer he had at least 10 blasters pointed at him.
“C’mon now Borno, you may have briefed your men about me…”, said James. There was a loud bang as the all doors into the warehouse burst open and security personnel poured into the room. Borno’s smirk disappeared instantly, his face turning to anger as James finished. “…but what about the other fifty security officers you pissed off over the years?”
[KNOWN ASSOCIATES]
NONE KNOWN
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