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Author
Topic:  Consequences
Ibram Tyrol
ComNet Marshal
 
Ibram Tyrol
 
[VE-NAVY] 2nd Lieutenant
[VE-VEEC] Journalist
 
Post Number:  1088
Total Posts:  1563
Joined:  Nov 2007
Status:  Offline
  Consequences
May 24, 2009 10:10:03 AM    View the profile of Ibram Tyrol 
OOC:
This post deals with the in-story execution of Korant 'Flyboy' Borshan's character.

Flyboy was recently kicked out of the Navy and the VE for inappropiate behavoir towards a fellow female pilot. Whilst his actions weren't nessecarily malicous - I beleive he was simply a bit of a naive fool - the VE has strict policy on treating female members with the utmost respect.

The 'execution' is not nessecarily a direct result of his actions - it fits in with the current Viper story and is being used as a stepping stone for a future story. The in-story reasons for Flyboy's execution also differ from the RL reason he was kicked out.

Please remember that we are all here to have fun, and whilst in-chracter (and who knows, maybe even out-of-chracter) relationships with female members is allowed, it takes two to tango, and trying to force the issue borders on sexual harrasment.

This story will be locked. Any questions, please direct them at myself, or a member of the high command.


Ibram liked the rain. Specifically, he liked being inside when it was raining. The sound of water pitter-pattering off of a secure and non-leaky roof had always made him feel secure and safe, although that was always a relative thing growing up in the poorer districts of Yaga Minor.

He had seldom been to the capital of the Vast Empire. Lotaith was the centre of everything, yet home to very little. A policy of separation meant that the various armed forces had their headquarters else, leaving Lotaith to be populated by the politicians, the merchants, and the aristocracy. It was the beating administrative heart of the entire empire, and as wet as a Quarren's den. At least, the capital city was anyway.

Also called Lotaith, the principle city was located in the temperate northern continents, where it was prone to rain more often then the rest of the planet. Despite his fondness for rain, Ibram couldn't help feel that the northern continent was being rather selfish in hogging all the weather. The sunny western tropics, for example, were probably devastated at not being able to experience such pleasant weather.

Ibram sighed, and took another look around his surroundings. He was in an open courtyard that made up the entrance for the central administration buildings in the capital. A symbol of the local power structures, and of the Vast Empire itself, it feature large columns with plinths featuring inspirational figures, past leaders, and national heroes. The entire complex was walled, although the courtyard was bordered by various buildings and outhouses, and of course the main gate.

At the top of the courtyard sat the original city hall, itself a monument to the VE and then history of this planet, with a flight of wide steps leading up to old oak doors flanked by statues of old-era imperial honour guards. The building now acted as the central library, and the only public area of the complex. Ibram was on a raised platform just in front of the steps, standing under a temporary field shelter from the army's supply stores. In front of the platform was a single mast, made out of light durasteel, supported by struts, and only ever set up on rare, and grim, occasions. Tied to the poll was the slumped figure of a man dressed in a prisoners uniform. Ibram was thankful that he had a cowl over his head.

At the front of the platform was a podium, where Grand General Talon was giving a speech to the crowd that had gathered. They were kept some ways from the podium and the slumped figure by riot barriers and members of the local police. Ibram wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying, although he knew it had to do with peace and security, or dark times and desperate measures, of justice... he had heard it all before, after all.

Ibram looked around at the other people who were with him on the podium. There were officials and important peoples from all corners of the VE. Standing next to him as Gschlecc Atrasin, CO of Nazgul Squadron. He had spotted Captain Denethor, their Wing Commander, along with the newly appointed Tactical Officer, Lt. Commander Arturus. Even Marshal Cosmic & General Rizzit from the Army was present. There were also a lot of spooks from Naval Intelligence about, as well as several government officials. There had been a rumour that even the Supreme Moff himself was going to turn up, although  from Ibram had heard he rarely showed for anything these days, instead preferring to rule from his mansion up in the hills.

This is a spectacle, he thought to himself for the upteenth time.

Ibram believed in punishing wrongs, he believed in justice and the natural order of things... but he also believed in dignity, in forgiveness... in appropriate force. He remembered when he had said as much to Captain Denethor...

-----------------------------------------------------------

“But sir, he's only a kid.”

Captain Denethor didn't over up at Ibram as he read through the file in front of him.

“We all must live with the choices we've made Lieutenant. Young or old, man or woman, human or alien... for the good of the Empire.”

Ibram would be rich if he had a credit for every time he had heard someone say that, and that, and that would be just from the last week.

“With all due respect sir, I'm just as pissed as Naval Intelligence is. I was on that mission too you know, but... this isn't right.”

Captain Denethor still didn't look up, “Perhaps, but we've been lenient on traitors in the past. Some say too lenient. It ends here.”

Ibram stood up in disgust from his chair, and turned his back on the older officer.

“I understand sir, but like this? He's just a young, naïve fool who's watched too many spy vids, and he gets made into some symbol? To make a point?”

“Regardless of the... necessity of the punishment, the decision has been made. It's no longer in my hands Lieutenant, this has gone all the way to central.”

Ibram cursed. This was just what they need. Bumbling aristocrats with too much money, no sense, and an inflated sense of their own importance.

“Frak central sir, they're just doing this for show.”

That made Denethor look up. Ibram almost cowered on the spot.

“I'll pretend you didn't say that Lieutenant,” he started slowly. “I understand your angle on this, but I suggest you keep your emotions in check lest they be... misinterpreted. This incident has already started a witch hunt, I suggest you stay out of the search area. Am I clear?”

Ibram leaned back against the wall, defeated.

“Yes sir...”

----------------------------------------------------

Ibram was brought out of his revere as a low rumble emanated from the sky. He thought it was rather poignant that it had decided to rain on today of all days. He wished they had at least provided stools or something... General Talon was still speaking.

“...the price we pay for liberty, for freedom. It may seem harsh - but it's necessary. The Old Republic was a  beacon of democracy, of hope, of unity. Yet they were brought down from within because they lacked the will to do what was they had to do to uphold their ideals.”

The General paused, Ibram thought it was probably for effect.

“When the lives of those you care about are on the line, you do what you can to protect them from evil, from tyranny, from men who cannot see beyond the face of their own ambition! Palpatine was not the only tyrant in existence, but he was the first one to be able to effect the galaxy with his taint.”

The general paused again, and looked down with contempt at the figure tied to the mast.

A little excessive, Ibram mused, to liken the poor guy to one of history's greatest villains.

“As long as we live and breath, we will fight for the freedoms of you the people.”

He spread his arms out to encompass the crowd.

“We will defend liberty, even if it means we have to conquer the whole galaxy to ensure its survival!”

He lowered his arms and stepped back from the podium. A smattering applause and cheers rose from the crowd as the general motioned for the head VENI representative to take centre stage.

It's time, he thought grimly.

The intelligence officer nodded to the execution detail, who stood at attention at the foot of the podium and comprised of a sergeant and 6 troopers from the Navy Marines. The sergeant signalled to his men, who marched smartly into position by forming a line in front of the prisoner. Meanwhile, the Sergeant advanced forward to take the cowl off of the man's head.

Ibram steeled himself for what was to come. It had taken a long time, but he had finally come to terms with what had to be done. It had probably cost him part of his soul in the process, but that was the world they all now lived in. No forgiveness, no second chances. For the Empire.

He watched as the cowl came off to reveal the scared face of Korant 'Flyboy' Borshan...

---------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a long time before Ibram spoke to Korant. The Viper pilot was lying on a bunk in his cell, wearing the overalls of a long-term prisoner. Ibram noticed how his face was a bit swollen, and at how the young man, hell, he wasn't even out of his teens, held his arm like it was badly bruised. Somehow Ibram couldn't bring himself to care.

“Why?” he finally said.

Korant just shrugged, now Ibram wanted to hit him.

“You really thought that nothing bad would happen!? You stupid idiot. You could have died as well!”

Ibram kicked the force field, making his leg vibrate as it hit the ballistic-proof barrier. Korant just shrugged again.

“Well I didn't did I?” He said.

Ibram shook his head and laughed, although without humour.

“You frakking corellians... it's all a big game to you isn't it? All about playing the odds... you really messed up big time on this one.”

Korant didn't shrug this time, but he did speak:

“All they wanted was access to my files. I wanted the extra money, and I didn't think I would ever be given anything that was important anyway... Didn't see what the big deal was.”

Ibram stared at him in contempt, “You idealistic fool. If you had even the basic understanding of how things work, you would have known that from there they could infiltrate the squadron files as well, including mine! No wonder they knew we were coming...”

Korant shrugged again, “Sorry.”

Ibram rolled his eyes, “You're sorry... I trusted you kid. Put my faith in you, let you wear the uniform... now look at you.”

Korant shot him an annoyed look, “Will you stop calling me kid? You're not that much older then me ya know...”

Ibram simply shook his head, “It's not the years that matter Korant... although none of that is going to matter to you much longer.”

Korant looked up at him in confusion, “What do you mean?”

But Ibram was done playing the good guy, done trying to someone who really needed it. Now it was just business.

“Actions have consequences Crewman,” He said as he signalled to man in the black uniform of naval intelligence.

“What? Did you think you would just get a slap on a wrist? A few years in a cell? It doesn't work like that. Not any more.”

Ibram stood back as the VENI Lieutenant came and stood in front of the cell. Now Korant was looking slightly worried.

“Senior Crewman Korant Borshan,” The officer began.

“You have been found guilty of treason...”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

“... of treason against the Empire, Supreme Moff Kadann, and against your fellow pilots. You knowingly, and with intent, exchanged information with known enemies of the Empire, and sought to profit from it. Your actions lead to the endangerment of your squadron, as well as the failure of a mission along with increased tensions between the Empire and our enemies.”

Ibram realised that the man speaking on the podium was the same man who had read this same speech to Korant in his cell. Korant had broken then, just like that. The officer hadn't even finished before the doomed pilot had begun weeping. Ibram remembered the moment where he saw the light go from the young man's eyes, saw him lose hope... funny how death can make someone appreciate the gravity of a situation.

Ibram looked over at Korant as he leaned back against the mast. He wasn't crying, which was something, although you could tell he had. He just seemed to be staring into space. The VENI officer continued speaking.

“By order of the Naval High Command, and ratified by the high council, you are hereby stripped of your rank, and sentenced to death by firing squad. All those present here today, take heed and bare witness: the fate of traitors.”

The officer paused and looked over at Korant, who was still staring into space.

“Do you have any last words?” He said.

Korant didn't answer him, but he did snap out of his day-dreaming. The Officer merely nodded.

“Very well, Sergeant? You may proceed.”

The Sergeant saluted, and turned round to his men. Ibram straightened his back, and his cap, and prepared himself for what was to come.

“Squad! Present Arms!”

Ibram looked over at Korant.

“Take Aim”

Korant looked over at Ibram.

“Fire!”

Korant  jerked, and Ibram once again saw the light disappear from his eyes, this time for good.

You stupid fool.
"Determining the appropiate level of interference in somebody elses war is never a simple matter."

  - Special Circumstances

Second Lieutenant Ibram Tyrol
Viper Squadron
Commanding Officer
We fly, you die

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[This message has been edited by Ibram Tyrol (edited May 24, 2009 10:35:37 AM)]
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