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Trykon
ComNet Sage
 
Trykon
 
[VE-DJO] Dark Jedi Warrior
[VE-NAVY] Rear Admiral
 
Post Number:  3611
Total Posts:  3754
Joined:  Feb 2011
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 20, 2015 2:26:42 AM    View the profile of Trykon 
Rafe Daringer scrambled through the undergrowth toward a thick-trunked evergreen, straining to hear any sound of his pursuer over his own huffing and puffing.  He half-ran, half-pulled himself around the huge, rough-barked cylinder, and then went as still and quiet as he could manage.  He was still breathing pretty hard, though, and he silently admonished himself for getting so out of shape.  After maybe half a minute his pulse began to slow, but still there was no sign of the creature that had been chasing him.  Rafe decided it was worth risking a look back toward the way he’d run.  Slowly, he craned his neck out from behind the tree.

He instantly regretted it.  Some bushes very near the tree were shaking in the way bushes do, when they are being pushed aside by an animal on the move.  But just as it looked like the monster would emerge, the leaves suddenly stopped rustling.  Rafe was being stalked.

On instinct, the former Imperial pilot decided it was time to force a confrontation.  He was tired after the long pursuit; he thought it better to face what was coming with as much energy as he could muster.  He stepped out from behind the tree, and yelled a challenge: “Come and get me!”

A shrill shrieking noise answered, from behind the bush.  And then the creature charged forward…

...and Rafe counter-charged, scooping up his fourteen-month-old nephew in his arms, accompanied by wild peals of laughter.

“Ack!” he cried, and chuckled along with the youngling.  “You got me!”

The boy squealed delightedly, and ran his tiny fingers over Rafe’s face.  The man smiled broadly at the ticklish sensation, and the chubby little digits wormed their way into his mouth.

“Okay,” Rafe mumbled, extending his arms until the youngling’s hands could no longer reach him.  He made exaggerated spitting noises, prompting even more laughter.  “Let’s go find your mama, huh?”  Rafe lifted the toddler up and switched his grip so the boy was horizontal, facing forward and down.  He began to make a keening sort of a wail: his best impression of twin ion engines whining their way through an atmosphere.  And then he ran back toward his sister’s house, adding an occasional laser cannon sound effect for good measure.

Willow was still leaning against the fence that ringed in the backyard, when they emerged from the wooded area behind the house.  She smiled when she saw them, and waved.  Rafe waggled the “TIE fighter” he held above his head in response.  The TIE, for its part, giggled maniacally.

“You have fun with Uncle Rafe?” Willow asked, when her son was finally set back on his unsteady little legs, in front of her.  An inarticulate “Hyah!” was the enthusiastic answer.

“He’s a regular AT-AT, Will,” Rafe said, tousling the youngling’s thin, wispy hair.

Willow Daringer raised an eyebrow.

Rafe grinned.  “All-Terrain Attack-Toddler!”  His grin grew wider as his sister groaned.

“Come inside, already,” she told him with a shake of her head.  “You got a message.”  She took her son by the hand and turned to go back into the house.  Despite her much-longer legs, it seemed like she was having to rush to keep up.

Rafe lingered outside for a moment, frowning.  “Who would message me here?” he said.

“What?” Willow called from inside.

Rafe went in, and walked over to his sister’s holoprojector.  “Who would message me here?” he repeated.

“Well, who knew you were visiting us this weekend?” Willow called from the other side of the living room.  A very purposeful game of peek-a-boo was underway.

“Nobody,” me muttered, and played the message.

“Lieutenant Commander Rafe ‘Daredevil’ Daringer, this is a recall order.  All Vast Empire Navy personnel are hereby ordered back to Rheagant System, ASAP.  Rendezvous timetable and coordinates are attached.”  The hologram of a crewman on some far-off Imperial ship or installation dissolved.  The projector blinked, to indicate there was a text attachment associated with the message that had just ended.

“Rafe?” Willow said uncertainly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “I thought… but if this is real... ”  He looked up, and made eye contact with his nephew.

Something in his expression made the toddler burst into tears.
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Heliwer117
ComNet Member
 
Heliwer117
 
[VE-ARMY] Senior Sergeant
 
Post Number:  451
Total Posts:  463
Joined:  Feb 2011
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 20, 2015 6:15:25 PM    View the profile of Heliwer117 
Almost as soon as he arrived on board the Star Destroyer, Heliwer had been shepherded all over the place. Vama took off once he was clear on board, and as much as he was looking forward to seeing old faces, he felt disappointed. The Weequay was a very good fighter and equally talented pilot, someone the Vast Empire might have benefited from having. Still, she had her own things to do and he had his. For now, he turned his attention to the open door leading into the lounge he was directed to, and the scrawny footman or doorman or whoever he was that was in front of it. He seemed to notice the larger man and held out his hand. He seemed to either be a freshly minted recruit or some kind of officer who had survived through having the brownest nose of any other out there, both prospects being equally as annoying.

“Excuse me, sir,” The little man said. “But I need you to hand over your weapons.”

Heliwer raised an eyebrow and looked past him into the large room. “Did you ask them?”

“Well not every single one of them but-”

“Yeah no. Maybe try again on some other shmuck.”

“But I-!”

Nudging the guy to the side, Garrath finally entered the lounge area, and was moderately surprised to find what basically amounted to a full blown cantina, equipped with bar, tables, and booths. There were quite a lot of people he didn't seem to recognize, and they seemed to be doing an awkward dance of finding people they knew to talk to. Some of them anyways. Others kept to themselves, which he couldn't blame them being a couple of years since seeing anyone else. Scanning around, he could see Havock over with another girl. It was hard to tell but they seemed to be getting along well. He and Hav weren't really close, but at the least she earned his respect. Meant that there was at least one person with a senior enough rank that he could bear taking orders from.

As he extinguished the butt of a cigarette and lit up another, he noticed Karash in a corner also surveying the area. He gave the former medic a friendly wave before walking over to the bar for a drink of his own. Odd as it was, Karash was the only Raider he felt on equal enough terms with, though it was probably more putting up with the ex-trooper because the job demanded it as he always seemed apathetic. Even so, he looked forward to talking with Karash again, especially to find out what he had been up to since Heliwer had left. One shot of whiskey later, he finally rested his gaze on a blonde woman sipping on probably an ale over in another corner of the lounge. She was quite small, and maybe seemed to be making herself seem smaller like she didn't want to talk to anyone in particular, at least not now. A big bag rested by her feet filled most likely with her stuff, and as she seemed to be compilating something, he noticed from where he was that she had a light scar on one of her hands. It was no one he recognized, no one from Raiders at the least, but he felt a little compelled to talk to her. Probably because as much as he wanted to talk to Havock or Karash, he too felt a bit awkward being at this sudden reunion, and he felt like he owed it to try and be a bit more social. As he walked over towards her, she seemed to notice him and shuffled a little at her table. Trying to put her at ease, Heliwer gave his best attempt at a warm and friendly smile and sat to her left at the table.

“I would have liked it if they gave us nametags or something and put us at assigned tables so that we don't have to awkwardly look for people we know to talk to.” He chuckled, trying to make her feel more relaxed. “Don't worry, I don't bite. Hell I don't know who you are.”

“Why are you talking to me then?” She asked. She didn't seem to be overly annoyed, but Heliwer had learned from his experience with Havock and Jaenna to be careful around Vast Empire women.

“Hey, I just wanted to talk, alright? Don't know too many outside of my squad so thought I'd try and be friendly. I'm Heliwer. What's your name?”

The woman paused a moment. “It's Helena.”

“Well, Helena, how did you wind up here?”
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Dusk
ComNet Member
 
Dusk
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant
 
Post Number:  441
Total Posts:  458
Joined:  Mar 2011
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 20, 2015 6:28:47 PM    View the profile of Dusk 
Jacen's freighter and droid escort softly touched down on the deck of the SSD. Standing up, the Sergeant looked to his second in command. "PD, do a double check on everyone. Make sure they're all combat ready, just in case. Once you're done with that, come find me."

The man made sure to show he had his locator active on his arm. With a nod, he made his way to the loading ramp and walked out on the expansive deck. An officer hurried up to him, datapad in hand. "Welcome back sir, we just need you to check in here than head to the aft lounge to meet with everyone else." The man held his datapad out, which Jacen punched in his credentials. "Very good, sir. I trust you know the way?"

"I do."

The former squad leader checked his weapons, which caused the officer to start to say something but think better of it. Jacen began the short trek to the lounge. As he traveled a sense of calm descended on his mind. It'd been years since setting foot on a functioning Imperial Vessel, and seeing everything working as it should, naval men running about doing their jobs, it lulled the man into a comfortable state. His euphoric thoughts were interrupted by an underlying sense of dread, 'What if they're all dead? What if they all died back on Corellia? I don't know what happened after we got separated, what am I going to do if I'm the only RAIDER left?' This train of thought continued as he entered the lounge and went straight to the bar. He sat down, SCOPE armor clacking against itself, he removed his helmet and placed it on the bar as he flagged down the bartender.

"What can I get ya?" The gruff man asked.

"You got Green Stuff on tap? I haven't had a good drink in ages."

"Got it."

The barkeep turned as Dusk sank against the bar, massaging his temples. 'Seriously man? You're a gorram STORMTROOPER and you're getting anxiety about wether or not some people may or may not be dead. If they are, so what? No one will be around to say how much you frakked up on Corellia, how you probably got them all killed.' He took a deep breath and graciously took the glass of green liquid. He slowly nursed it for a few moments to steady his mind. 'It wasn't my fault, it was a frakking horrible situation we were thrust in. I did the best I could, nothing can change that now.'

Jacen turned in his stool, back in the direction of the door to watch for new arrivals. He took the liberty to scan the faces of those already here. 'Gorram, General Katash is here? I wonder if she even remembers who I am, she's the one that gave me the field promotion to Squad Leader. Did she make the right call? Did I deserve the rank?' He shook himself once again of the self doubting train of thought and continued the check of faces. None stood out, that is, until he saw in the corner of the room a very familiar and very grumpy looking face. 'Karash survived?!? Well, if anyone was going to, it'd probably be him. I doubt he'd want to speak with me, not sure if I want to speak with him either.' Jacen turned back to the door and kept watch, the weight of the slug thrower on his hip brought his mind to it.

'I sure frakking hope I don't need to use that...'
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Smile!!! Tomorrow will be worse.

SL/SGT Jacen "Dusk" Arture/RAIDERS/Wildcard/Phoenix/VEA
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Havock
ComNet Marshal
 
Havock
 
[VE-ARMY] Brigadier General
[VE-DJO] Krath Priest(ess)
[VE-ICS] Intelligence Agent
[VE-VEHC] Brigadier General*
 
Post Number:  2302
Total Posts:  2413
Joined:  Feb 2009
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 20, 2015 8:45:14 PM    View the profile of Havock 
“If I had to guess, I’d hazard you must be Merrick. I’m known hereabouts as Havock. This is Aeos.”

Merrick nodded and gestured to the seats opposite her. “Nice to meet you both. Havock, you’re fellow General if I recall correctly. Can I get you both a drink?”


Ayme sat back against the chair and slowly surveyed the scene unfolding before her. She shook her head at a few of the younger troopers she vaguely remembered as recruits before hell rained down. The lounge looked far more decorative than she would have imagined for a star destroyer, even if it was super.

“So then Havock, what do you think of all this?” Merrick waved her hand in the general direction of the room.

Ayme ran her hand through her short blonde hair and made quick eye contact with Aeos. Her sister was far quieter than she remembered. Her eyes held a sadness and almost fear that Ayme could only imagine had to do with the new family she had left behind.

“Well Merrick, I think this reunion was a grand idea, we should have one every year.” Ayme took a long pull from her drink, draining the glass. She held up her hand to stop commentary on her flippant response. “Sorry. Look I don’t trust any of this yet, seems like a great way to spring a trap. Hey I want to kill the last remnants of the Vast Empire, I’ll just call all of them to one location and blow it to hell, call it a party. If I wasn’t the one about to get blown to bits, I’d be impressed.”

Aeos’ hand that was rubbing her temples suddenly slammed to the table. “Havock, that’s not helping.”

Ayme sighed. “Yea, I’m sorry. Really, to both of you.” Her eyes returned to scanning the crowd. More former troopers and pilots had filtered through the doors. She should have been thrilled that her comrades had survived the battle, yet she found herself growing more and more frustrated. Ayme had searched for anyone, any sign hope that someone had survived. She failed, yet someone had managed to track down a room full of people.

The conversation between the other two women at the table continued as Ayme scanned for familiar faces, when she suddenly stopped finding one sitting in the corner attempting to blend in with the wall. The former Raiders medic clearly had seen Ayme and was trying his best to avoid eye contact and he seemed to be checking his medical supply bag.

Ayme was about to excuse herself to go harass Karash when a Zabrak was brought in loudly in binders to the lounge. The man requested the binders be removed then shook off the guards and walked towards the bar.

As her eyes fell on the bar, Ayme remember that she had an empty glass that needed filling. “Hey I’m going to head over to the bar. Ether of you need a refill?”

After she received two negative head shakes, Ayme shrugged and walked over. The only space left available was next to a man with short auburn hair that seemed extremely interested in his brown liquor.

“Hey barkeep, I need another whiskey.” Ayme frowned as the short man next to her visibly flinched.  Her eyes stayed trained on the bartender as he poured her drink. “You okay man, it’s kinda early to be twitchy.”

The man sighed. “Ayme.”

Ayme frowned and her eyes darted to the figure next to her. “Look I don’t know who you are or what file you read but nobody calls me…”

Ayme blinked as her eyes slowly focused on the green star tattoo and eye patch. “Jaenna?”

“Funny thing, nobody calls me that either, heh.” The man took a deep breath. “It’s Jacen now.”

“Right.” Ayme tapped the bar. “Go ahead and make that a double.” Ayme looked back at Jacen then back to the bartender. “Nope just give me the bottle.”
Prefect of the Army
PRF | BGN Ayme 'Havock' Katash | VEA | VE

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Trevor Evenson
ComNet Member
 
Trevor Evenson
 
[VE-DJO] Uninitiate
[VE-NAVY] Lieutenant
 
Post Number:  848
Total Posts:  860
Joined:  Aug 2005
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 20, 2015 10:30:16 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
The landing gear of Trevor's YT-1760 clanged hard against the floor of the star destroyer hanger bay. Auto landing system must need calibration... Trevor thought as he got up from the pilots seat and made his way to his quarters. He grabbed a duffel bag out of a cabinet and loaded a few personal belongings and clothing into it. Reaching into the back corner of his closet, he unhooked the hanger that carried his old dress uniform. He had thrown out all of the old uniforms, save for one. It had mostly seen use in getting himself out of trouble back at the club. He then turned his attention to the dresser, sliding open the bottom drawer and withdrawing a small, leather bound box. He flipped the lid open and inspected the contents; the medals and rank pins still shone, bringing with them a flood of memories.

Memories of friends from years past; some alive, some dead. Memories of battles gone by, memories of missions and successes and failures. Memories of her - memories of Tokijin. He shook his head at the thought and snapped the box closed, tossing it on top of the uniform in the bag. With a sigh he zipped the bag and shouldered it, then strode toward the exit hatch of the Punishment.

“C4, get clearance to stay in orbit above Lotaith, or find somewhere to dock for a long period of time. It may be a while before I need you or the ship, so you might as well power down while you wait. You've got access to the Association funds, if you need them for anything.” Trevor explained, lowering the access ramp. He started walking down it before pausing and returning to the cockpit of the ship. “Almost forgot, can you try and open a holocall with Miss Nona back at the club?”

“Most certainly, Captain.” C4 replied, punching a few buttons on the control console. After a few moments, a small blue holo of Miss Nona appeared on the display.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Evenson?”

“Well, I haven't had any official meetings, but I suspect I'm going to be gone for quite some time. I know the others in the Association won't be happy about that, but they'll survive. You haven't been with us long but you've shown extreme loyalty to me and have always done your job well. As of now, you're going to take my seat at the Association table, until I get back. If I come back.” Trevor said with a bit of a smirk.

“Yes sir. I won't let you down. Can I still contact you if I need advice on anything?” Nona asked, flattening her blouse as she did so.

“I don't see why not, I'll have C4 transmit my new contact details. I'm also going to need continued access to the Association accounts. I don't expect they will see much use other than perhaps some docking fees, but at the end of the day... That's still my money. Keep me updated.”

“Yes sir. Good luck.” Nona replied, then ceased the transmission. Trevor patted C4 on the shoulder and made his way back down the landing ramp. He was greeted by the familiar smell of fuel and burnt metal, in addition to a pair of troopers in familiar, gleaming white armour.

“Commander Evenson. Here is your schedule and assigned quarters.” One of the troopers said, handing him a data card. Trevor nodded and plugged the card into his datapad, inspecting the schedule he had been given.

“Looks like I'm wide open until they contact me for a meeting about squadron placement. You guys still have cantinas on board?” Trevor asked, sliding the datapad back into his pocket. The stormtroopers appeared to glance at each other, before the second trooper spoke up.

“We've got one just a few floors up,” he said. “You're not the first to ask either.”

“Thanks mate,” Trevor replied. He turned to look as he heard engines fire up behind him, in time to see the Punishment turn and begin the slow taxi out of the hanger. Goodbye for now, old friend.

=== Fifteen Minutes Later ===

After finding his new quarters and dropping off his things, Trevor made his way to the cantina the troopers had directed him to. He pushed the door open and let his eyes adjust. Atypical of Imperial cantinas, the joint was dimly lit and somewhat crowded with people in civilian dress. I guess I'm not the only one who got the call back to duty.

He scanned the room for an empty table and his eyes stopped on a blond haired Zabrak who looked vaguely familiar leaning with his back against the wall at a booth that faced out into the cantina. As he crossed the room, he noticed a cybernetic right arm on the ageing humanoid and his memory clicked. He slid into the chair across from the Zabrak and received a sharp glare.

“Do I know you?” He asked gruffly, sitting up slightly in the booth and finishing his drink.

“I think so, slightly. You ran a few loads of spice for me off Nar Shaddaa, if memory serves. Hard to forget an arm like that.” Trevor replied, pointing to the arm as he mentioned it. The Zabrak chuckled.

“I ran a lot of spice on and off Nar Shaddaa. You'll have to forgive me if I don't remember some small time outfit who hired me a couple of times,” he said as he flagged the waitress down with his good arm. “Another round, miss.”

“Make it a double and bring me the same thing.” Trevor added, grabbing a few credit chits from the pocket inside his jacket and tossing them onto the waitress's tray. She nodded and swept off towards the bar.

“You play hardball, I see. Name's Sam, formerly and possibly presently of the VE Army. You?” Sam said.

“Trevor Evenson, Navy. More recently one of the founding members of the Krayt Association of Nar Shaddaa. That name familiar?” Trevor replied, stretching his long frame in his chair. The waitress returned and dropped the drinks on their table. Trevor took a sip and had to hold back a cough – it burned.

“Oh, I remember. I guess you weren't that small time then. You guys basically had your own little sector of that planet under control. What was it I moved for you?” Sam asked, downing half his drink between words.

“Spice, mostly. It's funny though, whenever we used you we had slight discrepancies in what was shipped and what was received. Never a lot, just a couple hundred grams here, a few hundred there... Wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”

“No, no idea at all.” Sam replied with a sly grin. Trevor shook his head and laughed, then raised his glass for a toast.

“To crime.”

“To crime.” Glasses clinked and both men downed their drinks. This stuff hits hard and fast... Trevor thought and shook his head. “Where's that waitress?”

“I don't see her around, I'll just grab another round from the bar. My treat, since you can't seem to afford your own spice anyway.” Trevor said as he pushed his chair out and stood up.

“Screw you, man.” Sam said with a chuckle and a wave of his hand. Trevor laughed and pushed his way over to the bar. The cantina seemed to becoming more crowded, all the seating space had been taken and more people were standing where they could. He squeezed his way up to the bar, accidentally bumping the woman to his left, causing her to slosh her drink onto the counter.

“Hey, watch it nerf herder!” She blurted, shoving Trevor with her elbow and throwing a glare at him. Her head was shaven and she looked as if she'd already had her fair share of drinks. Trevor shoved her back with his shoulder and raised his hand to get the bartenders attention, but the woman pushed his hand down and turned to face him. “Frak you, man. Are you deaf? I said watch it!”

Trevor's mind whirled with retorts he could use to put the drunk back in her place, but as he looked her over again, he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Her clothing was unremarkable and she wasn't in uniform, but she seemed strangely familiar. It took him a moment of eye contact to place her. There's no way. It can't be. It honestly can't be. Is that really...

“Toki?”
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Helena
ComNet Member
 
Helena
 
[VE-ARMY] Senior Sergeant
 
Post Number:  502
Total Posts:  508
Joined:  Jun 2008
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 21, 2015 11:28:34 AM    View the profile of Helena 
The room was slowly filling with people as her eyes darted across the room. She breathed a deep sigh as she slumped back into her chair. Taking another sip of the ale she had in her hand, she was rudely interrupted by a strange male. She allowed him to take up the seat, but she clutched her bag between her feet nervously. ’Who the hell is this now?!’ He had asked her name, something she wasn’t used to answering but continued anyway a little cautious of the man.

“If we all had name tags, it would be like speed dating” Helena replied, her cheeks turning a rosy colour and her eyes averting to the ground. She twiddled her thumbs before returning back to the conversation.

“I had a message and orders to meet people here. I suppose it has been 6 years since I left the Corps... “ Taking a deep breath she continued. “I’m Helena Leucine, former assistant squad leader of Wraith and Black Jack, and Squad leader of Raiders. Yes, before you say anything, I got around.” She sighed, waiting for the man to have a chuckle at her. She wasn’t proud of the fact she didn’t have a permanent squad, nor the fact she had moved around so much she didn’t have many friends, but that’s the way it was and she couldn’t exactly change it. She also couldn’t change the memories she had of missions with all the squads. Each had their own specialities and each had their own personalities, which Helena enjoyed but there was nothing like having friends you’d had for years around you and nothing changing.

She looked towards the gentleman to study his features. His ice blue eyes were the most striking, not to mention the scar running down his face. It didn’t look fresh, or that’s what the former medic thought. His arm was also striking due to the fact it was cybernetic. Helena broke her stare as she took another swig of her drink. She didn’t want to seem like she was staring the man down but he was unfamiliar to her and she was unsure of his business here.

“So, Heliwer was it? What exactly are you doing here?” She asked, twirling a strand of blonde hair around her fingers, intrigued. 

Helena gazed around the room, she noticed Havock at the bar with someone else. She knew Havock would know her but she was unsure she would actually want to talk to her after she left. Hav seemed to be in much more of a higher position than when Helena departed, and rightly so. She was so hard working from what Hel could remember. Maybe Helena’s time was the right time to leave. They say all things happen for a reason and maybe it was right she took time out when she did.

Placing a hand under her chin, she rested her head on it, her eyes averting back to Heliwer’s,
awaiting his reply.
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TRP/SSGT Helena/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE[ES2][GRP][GRP][ES1][SCA]
StarFruit
ComNet Member
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant First Class
[VE-DJO] Uninitiate
[VE-ICS] Assistant Intelligence Agent
 
Post Number:  798
Total Posts:  798
Joined:  Jan 2009
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 21, 2015 1:32:30 PM    View the profile of StarFruit 
Silence had fallen all too quickly for him to be comforted by it. For the last few years silence had been his friend, his confidant, where he went to hide from everything else. But the silence that enveloped he and the General that sat next to him, nearly cradling the bottle of whiskey, made his skin crawl. It was something that he knew he couldn't escape from despite how his entire body screamed with the dire need to get up and run back to his ship and flee the fallen Vast Imperial system as fast as he could.

Like that'd do any good. He sighed and leaned back on his stool as he tip the last half of the liquor from his glass down his throat. With a gentle cough he slowly turned to look at Havock, who was apparently already staring at him.

"What?" he asked, his voice curt and rough, though behind the tone one could pick out the still slightly feminine trill to his voice.

The General quickly shook her head. "Nothing, nothing. Just... It's been a long time." Finally, her grip on the bottle of whiskey loosened and she tipped the contents into both of their tumblers, filling them nearly to the brim. "A lot has uh. A lot has changed."

He watched her pour the whiskey as he scratched the scruff of his cheeks with an absent mind. "No kidding." Gingerly he took his tumbler as she slid it towards him and with one gulp he drained half of the liquor.

How in the world could he explain himself to the woman next to him? Where would he begin? He abandoned the army, and in turn, her years ago and the first time they see each other again it happens to be while they're surrounded by other previous brothers in arms. From what he had seen a lot of those who had trickled in from the corners of space had taken the time to clean up, find their old uniforms, and don the colors of the Empire as they had done so many time before. Jacen hadn't even taken the time to shave his face, let alone find the uniform and armor that he, at one time, looked at with a respect he didn't know was possible to lose.

A second gulp drained what was left in his tumbler and as he set the glass back down on the bar he turned to face Havock fully. "I imagine you have a few questions." It took a handful of awkward moments for him to speak, the time between when he turned to her and his first word filled with an almost pained look as his lips curled at the corners in reaction to the mental battle going on within his head.

Almost instantly Havock shot the side of his head a glare. "One question really."

Jacen could feel the burning sensation of her gaze branding the flesh of the shaved side of his head. He almost didn't want to answer. "And what question would that be?"

Silence settled for a moment as the General poured the both of them another generous helping of whiskey. Havock drained hers in one gulp as Jacen sat with his glass gripped in a tight hand. As soon as he heard her glass slam back down on the bar he knew he was about to get an earful. Before she even began to speak he flinched.

"Where the hell have you been?!" Her hazel eyes burned into the side of his head, narrowed to daggers, daring him to face her.

He didn't want to. He didn't want to turn and look at the face that he was so used to seeing with a smile or full of a loyal Trooper's determination. Instead, he knew, that the moment he turned to face her that it would bring him a kind of pain he hadn't felt in a long time. It was a pain that he was hoping to be able to get away from for good, so why did he go back to the very place he knew he'd end up having to face that pain again?

With a sigh he slowly turned his seafoam eyes to her. "I've been around."

He knew it was coming: the palm and fingers of the General's hand collided with the side of his head. He barely winced, despite the sting of pain, and continued to look at the woman who had just struck him.

"That's not good enough. You left years ago. You left the army, you left your fellow Troopers, you left me and all you can say is that you've 'been around'?" Havock's voice began to gain volume and Jacen looked around to see whose attention had been captured by her voice if not the slap moments before. "I know you were listening in on he channels, I know you know what happened. That we all ended up fleeing. I've thought my friends were dead for so long and you didn't even try to reach out to me. You, of all people, know exactly how to find anybody you want to find and yet... Nothing."

It would be a lie to himself if Jacen were to say that her words didn't hurt. He did know what happened. He knew that everyone fled or scattered or died. He did have the means to find anyone, he could have found Havock and explained things, answered questions, make sure she was still alive in the first place. But he hadn't. He hadn't ever even made the effort to reach out.

"I couldn't bring myself to do anything. I was caught up in my own shit, Ayme." He quickly drained his own tumbler of whiskey and turned to look at her again. "But I'm back now? I guess? And I'm sorry."

"You know that will never be good enough," she said with a steady glare.

Jacen nodded slowly. "Oh yeah, I know. But it's what I got right now." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he looked around. "Hell, I barely know what I actually got right now. One moment I'm doing my thing, next moment they decided it was a good idea to let me back on an Imperial SSD."

"Are you saying you're a threat to the Empire?"

"I'm saying I'm a threat to your mental health."

"If that ain't the truth I don't know what is." Havock took a deep breath and poured the both of them another full glass of whiskey.

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Heliwer117
ComNet Member
 
Heliwer117
 
[VE-ARMY] Senior Sergeant
 
Post Number:  452
Total Posts:  463
Joined:  Feb 2011
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  RE: Revival
December 21, 2015 1:45:49 PM    View the profile of Heliwer117 
As Helena talked to him, Heliwer could easily tell that she was maybe a bit more nervous than anyone else at being here, and though he could hear her well, her voice had a quiet quality about it. He couldn’t help but crack a cocky grin when she mentioned about how if everyone had nametags “it would be like speed dating” and blushed, and let off a small chuckle at her getting around the squads, his natural reactions to stuff like that. Internally he hoped he wasn’t coming off as weird to her. Aside from being rather attractive, she was actually interesting. He hadn’t heard a lot about what happened before he came into the Vast Empire himself, and considering the way things were seeming to shape up, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try and know a few more people than before.

Taking a drag on his cigarette, he noticed that she was looking him over, probably gauging him, sizing him up. Couldn’t blame her for it. He was a large stranger who started up a random conversation with her, and though she didn’t seem uncomfortable, she did seem wary.

“So, Heliwer was it?” She asked him, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her fingers. “What exactly are you doing here?”

She seemed to look past him at the bar at someone else, but returned her attention to him as she rested her chin in her hand and looked into his eyes with her own hazel ones.

“Bit of the same as you I guess.” He sighed, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. “Got a message about a big ol’ reunion and I couldn’t pass up that opportunity. It’s been three years since I left, and that was more on my accord than everything going to hell. I just ended up getting tired and took leave for a while, then that shit happened at Corellia and basically meant there was no way I’d be coming back soon.”

He chuckled slightly and puffed a couple small clouds of smoke out of his mouth. “Raiders, huh? I was a Senior Sergeant in Raiders when Joamer was the Squad Leader. Interesting bunch we were. Sometimes I miss what happened back then, the trouble we got into and the scraps that always found us. It was exciting.”

The cigarette was now down to a tiny stump, the end glowing softly like embers while his arms came back down to rest on the table. Gently he laid his hand out palm up towards her and gave her a teasing smile. “Hopefully things get a bit better this time around. Who knows, might end up on the same squad as a pretty young lady. One can hope so, eh?”

Helena seemed to blush at his comment. ”I hope to be in your squad too.” She immediately seemed like she didn’t mean to say it out loud and turned even more red, politely excusing herself to get up for a refill. She seemed to forget about the bag she had between her feet however, and one of her feet had gotten tangled up in the straps, causing her to fall over. Fortunately for her, Heliwer was rather quick on his feet and managed to wrap his arms around her and keep her from faceplanting into the ground.

“You ok?” He asked, the smaller woman held close to him. She took a few moments to compose herself and nod quickly, again her cheeks flushed pink. He gently let go of her and gestured to his seat. “Maybe you should sit for a little bit longer till your legs catch up to you.”

Heliwer extinguished the remainder of his cigarette and looked around as he started to pull out another to light up, and noticed Karash once again. He frowned a little, feeling like he owed it to at least say hi, so he turned his gaze back towards Helena’s hazel eyes. “Gotta go say hi to an old friend really quick. Maybe later we can get together and go drinking or something.”

“Y-yeah, alright. Thanks, by the way.”

Smiling at her response, the large trooper got up and began to head over to the former medic, adjusting the DC-X strapped to his back and ensuring that his new nicotine stick was alight, and leaned up against the wall right next to him.

“Well if it ain’t Karash. How you been old buddy?” He asked with a grin.
TRP/SSG Heliwer/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
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"Any problem on Earth can be solved with the careful application of high explosives. The trick is not to be around when they go off." - Valkyrie


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Tokijin
ComNet Cadet
 
Tokijin
 
[VE-NAVY] Master Chief Petty Officer
 
Post Number:  258
Total Posts:  258
Joined:  Sep 2005
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 21, 2015 9:06:51 PM    View the profile of Tokijin 
Sadreen kept her head down, and walked fast, trying to get to the cantina. It was difficult with so many people around, but it was easy to pretend the ground was more interesting. It was too much. The smells, the sounds; everything was the same. Everything she had spent two hard years trying to forget came rushing back.

Did she have a bag? She didn't remember if the message had any further instructions besides coordinates. Sadreen had been so worried about finding alcohol she hadn't bothered to consider anything else. Had she left it on the shuttle? The lift sure was taking it's damn time. This long for three floors? Her foot was tapping anxiously, arms crossed over her chest.

There was another protocol droid in the lift with her, silently waiting for its floor. It needed the floor one higher than her's, but it's presence still made her feel awkward. Do you need to make small talk with a protocol droid? How much do they report? Do they record everything? Why were its feet blue? The doors finally opened to the right floor, signaling her release.

Sadreen practically fell through the doors trying to get out. Her breathing was slightly elevated, and she was about ready to sprint down the hall. The explosions, and the blood were all coming back. The memories were all coming back. The battle of Lotaith, pirates on a small ship out at sea on some forgotten planet. The burning smell of the ship that was somehow clean at the same time.

It was too much. She wanted to be back on Fahren Rina, working in the ship yards, moving crates of goods and working until her body was numb with exhaustion. What she had back there wasn't fancy, but it kept her mind occupied, and her body moving. Where was that bloody cantina?

She had been following the signs, and Sadreen could finally see it. She forced her breathing calm and slowed her rapid pace. Bartenders were usually much more receptive when you didn't look pitiful and desperate.

Sadreen sat down at the bar, a spot with two empty stools on either side of her.

"Double whiskey, on the rocks, please." The bartender nodded as she fished her credit disc from her pocket and placed it in front of her. "Start a tab for me." He took the disc and replaced it with a glass. Sadreen wrapped her hands around it and instantly felt herself calm. One sip was all it took to slow her rapidly beating heart. The chaos inside was replaced with the warm, sharp feeling as the alcohol went down.

Glass still in her hands, she glanced around. There weren't many people here at the moment, and no one she recognized. She took another drink and started to run her hand through her hair before once again remembering it was gone. Why had she cut it off again? Had it been burned off at some point? It was difficult to remember, but she missed it now as the cold air of the cantina made her shiver. Maybe there was a vent nearby? She started to look around for the source of constant cold air, glass to her lips.

"When did that happen?" She got a drink of nothing but melted ice, the whiskey gone from her cup. She signaled the bartender with a raise of her empty glass, and he turned to fetch her another.

It wasn't long before her forth drink was set down before her. The bartender was starting to give her the typical questioning glance, not sure if she'd be the problem drunk during his shift. Sadreen didn't care that much. The smell of whiskey was in her nose. She preferred it immensely to the natural smell of this ship.

It was easy to stop the memories now, and she laughed at herself as recalled her flight to the cantina. Was she scared of a couple protocol droids?

“Whassat??” Sadreen almost did a 180 trying to find the source of something shiny she had caught in the corner of her eye. What had that been? Her eyes went wide as she looked around. Holy crap, when had all these people arrived? She quickly turned back to the bar, realizing people were now sitting on either side of her.

Sadreen pulled herself in tight, trying to make herself small. She could almost feel the men to her right and left, too close for comfort. It made her skin crawl and her hair stand on end. The closeness made her shiver, and pulled at the collar of her shirt. Everything felt too tight and her shirt suddenly felt three sizes too small. She needed another drink.

The bartender was about ready to give her his “time to sober up” spiel as he gave her what would probably be her last drink. She went to bring it to her mouth, already ignoring the man when she felt a jolt. Why was her drink on the bar? She looked to her right as her brain made the proper connections and it clicked into place.

Some blonde bimbo had just spilled most of her drink. "Hey, watch it, nerf herder!"  Oh, it was a guy. She shoved him away, trying desperately to reclaim her lost space. Now her skin felt three sizes too small. She felt him push back with his shoulder as he tried to get close enough to call the bartender.

Sadreen grabbed his arm and made him face her. Frakin' bimbo was too frakin' close. “Frak you, man. Are you deaf? I said watch it!” The look on his face was strange. He seemed neither angry or offended like she had anticipated. They usually always tried to push back with her.

"Toki?" Sadreen sputtered, and started laughing.

"No, not here, man. I'm not Toki. My name is Sadreen. Piss off, I'm drinking." She turned away from him, back towards the bar and tried to rescue what was left of her drink.

"No." His stern voice accompanied a hand on her shoulder as he tried to pull her back towards him. What the frak was up with this guy?

"Hey, if I look like someone you know, it'll cost extra. I ain't about to get called the wrong name for my usual fee." She was entirely joking, but that kinda shit usually turned them off enough to get them to leave her alone.

"What the frak - no, Toks, it's me. Trevor." Bells went off in her head. The big ones. The monumental bells that made everything stop. She stared at his face and really looked at him this time. The last couple drinks went sour in her stomach.

Sadreen Naysiri punched this man in the face.

It wasn't a good punch by any means, not in this close of quarters, or this intoxicated, but she gave it her all.

"Frak you! Leave me alone, you fraking creep!" She had caught his chin, which probably had hurt her more than it hurt him, and she would certainly feel that later in her hand. She slammed the half-full whiskey down on the bar, and slid off her stool. "Frak this." She half stumbled, half ran away from him, trying to give herself some space from every gorram asshole in this place.
MCPO Tokijin/mSSD Atrus/Defensive Fleet/VEN/VE (=*A*=) (=*SA*=) [BWC] [VC:B] [CBV] [MC1]
THX1138
ComNet Member
 
THX1138
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
 
Post Number:  528
Total Posts:  549
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Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 21, 2015 11:04:56 PM    View the profile of THX1138 
Therex sat back in his chair as his ship came in for a landing. Apparently a bunch of his old "army buddies" were meeting at a bar nearby. He hadn't heard the names he was hoping to hear most, but Terre left him years ago, so he wasn't planning on running into her for as long as he could. Shaking her face out of his head, he checked the flight computer. He was just about to touch down on the Star Destroyer.

About goddamn time...

Thankfully his old clearance still held even after these years. Standing up, he donned his coat once again, scoffing at the end dragging slightly on the ground. His posture had failed, and he had put on some weight.

Fucking Faska and his men made me soft.

As soon as the ship touched down, he strolled down the ramp and gave the massive hangar a once over. Not much had changed since his old days, but from what he heard, the fleets were getting some nice upgrades soon. Grabbing the nearest deckhand, he pointed at his ship.

"Nothing fancy with that old girl," and before letting him go, he added, "Say, would you happen to know where some old-timers from the good old days may have gone?"

Once the man had given him directions and scrambled off, Therex debated his next action. Did he really wanna be back? What if he didn't know any of them? What if they had forgotten him?

Probably would be best they forgot who I was.

Sighing, he made his way to the door of the bar and hung there for a second. Memories of old bar fights and romps with his squads came flooding back. Some good, others not, and some he really wasn't sure which parts were true. Chuckling lightly, he took a step in and almost jumped when he heard a voice call his name.

"Hey! It's Therex! I thought he died..."

OOC:
Shitty story / Piss poor word count, but I needed to catch up. RL has me moving an office building across town so my time is limited.
"He has his orders, and when a Chiss accepts orders he carries them out, period."

Smile for death

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Maze
ComNet Novice
 
Maze
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant
 
Post Number:  36
Total Posts:  38
Joined:  Apr 2008
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 22, 2015 5:07:21 AM    View the profile of Maze 
OOC:
Posting this from the Maze account, as I still can't access the eviscares one. Hopefully that'll change.


"I am alive you bloody womp rat! Let me out of here!”, the detainee yelled, his voice amplified by the trooper helmet.
But apparently, his captors weren’t having any of it.
“Ah… sithspit!”, he muttered, and with a “thunk” kicked against the wall.
Maybe the plan had been stupid. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. If they wanted to, they could court martial him for it.
But it had been too long. Too long since Dar-Soocha, too long since that night in the tiny apartment. Too long since…
Evis shook his head and yelled out again:”At least give me back my lungblasters, you moisture farmers!”
But still, no response. He knew what they were doing, or at least he thought he did. They didn’t know him, and for them, his ID hadn’t checked out.
Well of course it hadn’t. He would’ve been appaled if it had. So now he was sitting in the brig, on a military vessel, being guarded by two Privates, and hoping, that someone who knew him was still alive.
And by now these privates were trying to break him with the old “you’re nothing, and we’ll treat you like it” routine. After that it would either be an interrogation or a beating, depending on whether the two idiots could get an NCO to interrogate him, or not.
Either way, this would be a long day. Slumping down in the corner he smiled a bitter smile and thought to himself:”Well…that’s imperial hospitality for you.”

Outside of the cell, the two troopers on guard duty were watching the monitors, trying to make sense of what their captive was yelling. The younger one spoke first:”Maybe he is telling the truth, you know? Maybe he really is D’kaleth al Bek.”
“Al Bek is dead. Can’t you read a simple record?”, chuffed the older one, himself a mighty and wise Private First Class.
“But who should he be?”
“Someone trying to infiltrate the ship? Probably got a slicer to get him the ID.”
And with the sudden realization that they could’ve just arrested a big security threat, the two of them fell silent for a moment, dreaming of medals, promotions and, as any trooper would, booze.
Speaking with quite some more enthusiasm than before the PFC finally broke their dreamy silence:”We should probably get a confession out of him before we tell somebody.”

The door of the brig opened with a hiss, two stormtroopers standing in the doorway, looking in, exploiting that terribly effective moment to its fullest. “Oh crud… here comes the beating…”, went through evis head, before they went at it.
Of course he could’ve fought back, could’ve prevented one from grabbing his arms, and the other from tearing down his old helmet and start pummeling him. But it wouldn’t help. They’d just lean into him more. Bring out the prodders and the other nasty things they had at their disposal. They would get more people, would not only try to get him to admit who he really was, as they were doing now, but take revenge on him.
They would get more people… now there was a thought…
For a moment he took the beating. Answered the repeated question of “Who are you?!” with his name and his identification number. And then… he snapped. He threw himself into the wall with the Private still standing behind him. Wriggled himself free, and lunged at the other soldier. Normally, he would’ve gone for a knockout, a kill maybe. But not this time. This was to bruise their egos enough to go running for help.
So he shoved them around for a bit, giving them a quick kick to the crown jewels, smashing heads into walls and all that. And after the two soldiers had worked themselves up into a fury, he gave in again.
Now they were angry, and that anger had to go somewhere. Well… it mostly went into him, and Evis winced, as even through the cracked and blemished white armour he was wearing, it hurt what they did to him. But then, after an agonizing 15 minutes they stormed out of the brig, and he really hoped that now they would be radioing in an officer or NCO to assist with the difficult prisoner.

OOC:
And here we go. Aeos, Merr, your turn.
Jester Squad
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Aeos
ComNet Sage
 
Aeos
 
[VE-ARMY] Captain
[VE-DJO] Dark Jedi Warrior
[VE-ICS] Pirate Overseer
[VE-VEEC] Engineer
 
Post Number:  3068
Total Posts:  3141
Joined:  May 2005
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 22, 2015 6:15:42 AM    View the profile of Aeos 
OOC:
Toks, Trevor, Merrick, Starfruit, Havock, please let me know if I did anything that was weird for your characters. Trev, Toks, hope you don't mind that I butted Aeos into that little reunion there, though I'd try and do some interaction with the navy


She kept an eye on Havock who disappeared off to the bar for another drink and subsequent conversation with a fellow seated on one of the stools. Around them, the familiarity of old faces and nostalgia was in full swing marked by laughter, scuffles and hugs. She eyed the Brigadier General seated across her.

“General, we’ve actually met before.” She muttered taking another swig from her glass.

Merrick cocked her head in confusion at this, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized Aeos in detail.

“I was Jesters’ Squad Leader?” Aeos continiued.
Was she that unmemorable? She had a squad blindly follow her on charges of treason to infiltrate an underworld of drugs and gangs. Her thoughts flashed back to Dar Soocha. She lost a good man on that mission.

“Well, I’ll be damned…” Merrick said with half a smile growing on her face. She lifted a glass to Aeos.
“Of course I remember, I had to book off leave only to be working undercover with you guys. That was one scary mission.”
“Yeah, things were definitelty too close to comfort.” Aeos agreed.

It was quiet for another few moments before Aeos broke it.
“I’m in agreement with Havock however crassly she put it in regards to our current situation. And besides that, it would be a damn near miracle if they can pull of re-establishing the Empire. “

“How come so?”  Merrick asked. She gestured for a refill and turned her attention back their conversation whilst the rowdy atmosphere around them was increasing in volume.

Aeos regarded Merrick with  a frown. The Brigadier General probably already understood the facts far better than she would, granted the woman was several paygrades above her on the roster.

“General, excuse my impudence, but you know what I’m speaking about. “ Aeos replied.
“Humor me Captain.”

“ Look, I’m a simple soldier who did grunt work in the mud with other soliders. And now I am a farmer’s wife still working in mud, but stil, the facts of our circumstances are obvious. We lost a key battle that cost us the war. Our forces scattered.” She paused to take another swig of the golden liquid.

“I don’t know what happened, but it should have been easy to recall and unite back on our key planets, yet we didn’t. It made me wonder about the stability of the Council’s hand. We’ve lost key points across the galaxy, spaceports, planets, territories. Places that generated income in order to finance our wars.  Even if we manage to retake some of those points, we will need to re-evaluate the damage of the infrastructures and physically rebuild  them.  Our currency has crashed, and right now we are too vulnerable economically.  Additionally, if my memory serves correctly, we had  a protocal  on all our facilities to to self destruct all systems containing our records in events like these, however, the damage of hundreds of  administrative drives self-destructing around the same time is collosal.  Not to mention our stocks crashing, or the loss of  our wares. We are not even a skeleton of our former glory right now, and it will take years to reach that form again. “
Aeos leaned back in her stool, resting her drink on her knee.

Merrick quirked  a bemused eyebrow at Aeos.
“You’re not afraid of running with your thoughts, are you?”
“I tend to forget to contain them General. My apologies if I was out of place. “

Merrick shrugged and beckong Aeos to lean in to hear her as she did.
“Your formality is killing me. As far as I’m concerned, right now in this moment, we’re just two women having a drink, neither wearing a uniform or a badge.  While we always inspiredblind loyalty among our ranks, I wonder whether our culture of complete autocracy is what hurt us so much in the end.  The Republicans are fools, but there are some things we could stand to learn from them.

The volume of their conversation has dropped to a hushed intimiate level. They both understood the risk of having a conversation like this. It was borderline idealogical treason, and Merrick could afford even less than Aeos of having that stigma following her, should she wish to continiue her duty with the  Vast Empire.

“But Captain-“ Merrick withdrew away from Aeos, her voice pitched back to its normal alto level.  Vaguely Aeos heard the sound of slap following  by rising voice levels of someone shouting.
“This not the best of conversations to have in public, but we should sometime or another have it again and ho-“

“-what happened. That we all ended up fleeing. I've thought my friends were dead for so long and you didn't even try to reach out to me. You, of –“ Someone was shouting, and was clearly doing a good job of inviting the rest of the Cantina to eavesdrop in on it.

Both their heads spun to where Havock was standing shouting at another man.
Aeos frowned sensing the emotional distress from Havock.
“I better go see what’s up there. Another drink?”
Merrick nodded and Aeos got up.

The cantina was fast becoming crowded with Imperials and she pushed her way through the smoky space of people to where Havock was seated now, still in the company of the man she slapped earlier.

“Everything okay?” she queried, pushing herself in-between their personal space, facing the man with a frown.

“Get off your horse Aeos, everything is fine.” Havock scoffed into her glass.

“Hi there, I’m-“

“Aeos, I know.” The man replied with half a smirk on his face as he scratched the stubble on his chin. Aeos frowned, retracting her extended hand from him.

“And you are?”

He smirked again, his one visible eye glinting in the light.
“Jacen. Havock and I have history. You would know, you regularly saw us screaming at each other.”

“The only person I know that was seeing Havock was…..Star, you kidding me. That you?” She was stunned as she studied the man closer. Even though the voice was deeper, the skin scruffier, not to mention some very obvious other features, she could see it; the cheekbones, the jawline, the slump of the shoulder in certain positions. She had spent many nights with Havock and this man playing sabaac and simply conversing about upcoming mission tactics. Back then he went with a different identity.
“It’s good to see a familiar face.” She started awkwardly.

She could sense Havock’s energy, which was as uncomfortable as hers. What Jacen had done to her, has left deep marks on Havock and Aeos had no idea how one would even begin to mend that bridge. Her presence was definitely not helping.

She turned her back to Jacen, and squeezed Havock gently by the shoulder.

“You want me to stay?”
“Sithspit no Zee, it’s awkward enough as it is just seeing you, not both of you.” Havock muttered bluntly. Secretly relieved Aeos nodded and left the two to try and sort out through what she suspected would be a hard conversation to follow.

She was walking towards to Merrick when she turned on her heels back to the bar again.
Frak, forgot to get the drinks.

It was at this moment that a woman almost fell into her arms as she was stumbling backwards away from another man. Aeos caught the woman by her arms, and helped her re-orientate her balance, barely noticing the help. A blond Navy pilot was zooming into their position, babbling at a mile away while rubbing his cheek which was a bit red. Aeos pushed herself in-between them.

“Stand down, it’s okay.” He muttered grabbing her by her shoulder.
“I can’t do that Sir.” Aeos said, extending one hand behind her and grabbing the auburn haired female by the collar.
“Stand down, we’re friends.” He said again, his icy blue eyes meeting her own blue eyes.

Aeos frowned and shook her head.
“I’m sorry Sir, she’s clearly not in a state to confirm that right now, and I unfortunately refuse to walk away, even though I want to. I simply do not trust males chasing drunk females in a bar. I hope you understand.”

He was seething, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. Aeos could see the frustration mounting in him.

“Trevor, the name is Trevor if you could bother tell her, I’d be much obliged.”

Aeos nodded stiffening her hold on the woman before swinging in and lugging an arm around her own neck.

“Let’s go get this sorted out.”

“Frak off, frak off.” She muttered through clenched teeth. Aeos increased her grip, half-dragging the resisting woman towards the door.
“I’m not drunk. I just need to get out of here” The woman muttered in a desperate voice.

Aeos paused in her step and stole a glance at the woman’s face, more particularly her grey eyes. They were bloodshot, but not glazed as it usually went with inebriation. However, fear was rolling in waves off from her face through her body along with sweat dripping from her neckline.

She immediate let go of the woman who righted her stance staring at Aeos suspiciously who pushed her by the small of her back towards the door.

The blast of fresh air, and the empty corridor was a welcome relief for both of them.

“I’m guessing your issues are with people, not so much the drink.” Aeos mused. Personally, it looked more like an anxiety attack than anything else in hindsight. Half the Imperials in there came from some form of deep-rooted shit, so she wasn’t going to bother to inquire even.

“Both, but more with the first than the latter.” 
Aeos raised her eyebrows bemused at the honesty and turned to her.
“Look, I don’t think either of us give a damn about who the other is, but I’ll leave this with you; whatever shit it is that you’re going through. Sort it out, we don’t have the luxury of compromising our dignities in public with the Empire. People see it, and they abuse that weakness.”

The woman scoffed and turned her back toward Aeos  walking away.
“And go talk to Trevor, whoever the frak that is!” Aeos called after turning back to enter the cantina again. She shook her head questioning why she even involved herself in that fiasco. It was clearly none of her business.

The noise level exploded as she entered through door again, the smoking intoxicating her. It’s been years since she’s had a smoke, and she was badly trying to resist having one again.

She plopped herself down next to Merrick again who slid over a glass of Correllian ale.

“You took your sweet time and I had to go get myself.” She chastised Aeos who only scoffed in return.

“You’d think that being Imperials, these hooligans could handle their liquor with more class and at least be on form. We’re not on some space-port. This unbecoming.” 

Both women grabbed their drinks as an oncoming body crashed through their table onto the floor.
Aeos sighed and drank from her own glass.
One of the speaker comms in the cantina crackled to life with a high pitch, silencing the rowdy noise down to a decent level before it continued with it’s announcement.

“If either Brigadier General Merrick or Captain Aeos is onboard, please report immediately to the brig. Brigadier General Merrick and Captain Aeos to brig.”

Aeos and Merrick glanced at each other with confusion written across both faces and got up.
“Wonder what the hell this will be about.” Merrick wondered out loud.
“Beats me.” Aeos replied just as confused.

http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Aeos
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Merrick
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Merrick
 
[VE-ARMY] Brigadier General
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Post Number:  647
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  RE: Revival
December 22, 2015 8:26:54 AM    View the profile of Merrick 
Merrick didn’t have the slightest clue where her uniform had ended up after everything that had happened. She’d retired from the army pretty abruptly, gone to work for the ICS and then shipped out to keep an eye on Osk for Fury without taking much more than her weapons, a few sets of civilian clothes and her pet nexu with her. Thinking about where all of her other possessions might have ended up was strange. Likewise, it still struck her as odd every time someone referred to her by her old rank, too, dressed as she was in common attire and with far from Corps approved weaponry on her person. She waited for Aeos to ask a crewman for directions to the Brig, and followed the younger woman to the turbolift. She’d also been contemplating the history the two of them shared. Many of her memories had been lost – or blocked – for the past several years. She preferred to worry about the present and future than dwell on the past, but forgetting that particular mission with her beloved Jester squad was nigh on unforgivable. Of course, there was good reason her mind had chosen to forget.

She realised Aeos was talking to her. “Sorry, say again?”

Aeos looked at her this time. “I said, what do you think makes us special?”

Merrick shrugged and yawned. “Maybe they were listening in on our conversation earlier.” She smirked and leaned back against the lift’s wall.

Aeos tried to control her features but couldn’t hide the worry. “That’s not helping.”

Merrick smiled and tried her best to look apologetic. “Time to find out.”

The lift doors opened and the two women got out, scrutinised by a trooper and two crewmen, each trying to look busy at their stations. Merrick approached the trooper. “Sergeant, we were summoned without an explanation. General Merrick, Captain Aeos. What’s the problem?”

The trooper compared their faces to the console in front of him – presumably their records and credentials – and invited both women to follow him down the corridor to a holding cell where two more troopers were on guard. They saluted uncertainly while the sergeant explained. “The scum in there claims to know you, both, and demanded to speak to either one of you. We interrogated him for a while but that was all he would say.”

Aeos looked at Merrick, who shrugged. “Well let’s see him I guess. Dismissed.” The sergeant returned to his station but the privates waited outside while Merrick and Aeos went into the cell. A tattered looking trooper lay before them. His armour had seen better days, and not just because of the boot marks inflicted by the pair outside. He sat up and stripped off his helmet as soon as he realised Merrick and Aeos were there.

“Am I ever glad to see you two!” He stood up but, noticing Merrick’s hand go to one of her blasters, kept his distance.

Merrick and Aeos exchanged a glance once more. Aeos was shaking her head. “No, it can’t be. You’re… dead. We had a funeral and everything.”

Merrick let her hand drop from the blaster. “We kinda buried an empty casket there Aeos… couldn’t go back for him after how things went down, remember.”

Aeos nodded numbly and stared at the man before her. “But… I was there… he died. Who are you really?!”

Merrick stopped Aeos from slamming the former trooper against the bulkhead. He held up his hands and stepped back. “It’s really me, Ae, it’s Evis. I’m so sorry I didn’t come back.”

Aeos turned and left the cell. Merrick crossed her arms and frowned at the man before her. “Do you know what your death did to the squad? Not to mention you missed a beautiful funeral, even if I do say so myself. Time to prove you’re you, and tell me where the hell you’ve been. If I don’t believe you, I will leave you with your two friends outside, let them finish what they started.”

He nodded and sat down hard, toying with his helmet while he gathered his thoughts.
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Maze
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Maze
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant
 
Post Number:  37
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  RE: Revival
December 22, 2015 10:08:14 AM    View the profile of Maze 
They made an odd pair, him in his abused armour and a definite non regulation stubble, Merrick in her civilian clothes.
“Merr, you most probably won’t believe me, but hey, you didn’t have me shot already, so I’ll stretch my luck a bit further.”, Evis said weary, punctuating it with a bitter chuckle.
And there it was, the famed arched eyebrow of Colonel Merrick. She was pissed, and one wouldn’t have needed to know her to read that. Hands at her hips, legs spread at shoulder width, she was radiating tension.
“Try your luck then, punk.”, she barked, her hand fiddling with the safety of her blaster.
“Ok. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you everything until I have been debriefed, or you order me to.”, he began, and then, not wanting to keep that story in any longer just went on, “Before Dar Soocha, I had been briefed on the possible need for a deep cover operation. I guess HC picked me, because I had enough gang experience. But even though, I was left in the dark. The guy who killed me, I think he really meant to, and the spooks just jumped on the chance.”
He glanced at her nervously, then at the camera, hoping that Aeos was still watching the feed, that her curiosity was still getting the better of her.
“Ae, I know you are watching me. I don’t have a lot of stories to share with Merrick, but with you… we both know there are some. Dar Soocha, you stole my flask. The one with the Jester scraped into it. I chased you. And afterwards…”, he choked for a moment, going back to a memory that had been with him in many of the long and lonely knights after Dar Soocha,”well you know what happened at the end of the chase… you… me… low gravity… the cards… Verkun coming round the corner…”
He couldn’t finish it. Didn’t want to. Not even in front of Merrick, who was smirking already. What had happened had been more than innocent. But the weight of nostalgia had made it into more for him.
Before he could speak another sentence, the door hissed open again. And with the glare from the outside lights Aeos strode in, 1.6 Meters of rage. Merrick was still turning around when she had already crossed the distance to Eviscares and slapped him.
“I cried for you! You slug! I thought you were dead!”, she yelled, and Evis saw, that she was getting for another swing. But just when his former squadleaders Arm was extended all the way back, Merrick caught it, saying with her usual glacial calm: ”Don’t, Captain. But I take it that you are now sure its him?”
He shot her a thankful glance, wondering if what he was seeing was the empathy that Merrick normally kept tucked under her uniform.
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RK
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RK
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
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Post Number:  818
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  RE: Revival
December 22, 2015 12:43:28 AM    View the profile of RK 
The stench in the bar was unbearable as always, the concoction of death sticks and puke always wafted up from the floor. Ryan wiped the sweat from her brow and sighed heavily, trying to ignore it and waste it away in her drink. The meeting was supposed to be an hour ago, and the seller hadn’t shown, as usual.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” A voice said from behind her, she spun in her chair slowly, hand slowly moving to her hip blaster. A woman stood there just staring, at this point life seemed like a dream.

Removing her hand from her blaster she stood up and smiled sheepishly, seeing Havock in a place like this wasn’t unexpected,  seeing her alive was more of the shock. “I thought you died….”

“That makes two of us.” Havock smiled, kind of. “Seems your quest for an antidote isn’t going to well.”

Ryan sighed under her breath, “Yea, was supposed to meet a contact here, but got stood up; beginning to think the dang thing doesn’t exist.” She gave a deep breath and pulled herself back together, trying to shake off the memories. “Besides, It’s not all bad, free drinks are nice every once and a while.”

Havock laughed, “I’m sure, sorry we couldn’t get you any back on Pariah, it was a mess of a situation.” She sat down across the table. 
“So what are you doing in this neck of the woods?” Ryan sat directly across from her, took a sip of her drink.

“Lotaith, RK.”

The words sparked floods of memories, every mission, every early morning, late night, and horrible meal all came flooding back. She hadn’t heard about the planet-that-shall-not be named for years, let alone anyone call her by her call sign. “No, seriously, why are you here.”  She hoped it was all a dream, but something inside told her it wasn’t. She knew one day the old Empire would regroup, but after six years the thought seemed absurd.

“As serious as it gets.”

“I thought they had destroyed everything, there was nothing left.”

“Who knows, a lot has changed, but until 5 minutes ago I thought you were dead as well.”

RK sighed heavily, this changed everything.

“Listen, I don’t know if they’ve contacted you yet, or what. If not I’m sure they could still use your help” Havock took a sip from her drink, set it on the table and leaned back. “If you want to come, I’ve got room.”
RK looked up slowly from her glass; she had been twirling it totally oblivious to the world, trying to process everything. “I don’t know, I still should keep looking, who knows the next meet…"

“If they haven’t had it yet, they aren’t going to.”

She was right, and RK knew it. The research had been destroyed years ago, and the search was in vain, what happened on Pariah was the start of something new, and the end to the old. Someday things might be different, but it had been too long. It was time to move on. “Okay, I’ll think about it, but right now I need to tie up a few loose ends.”

“Fair enough, “ She stood up as she handed RK a datachip. “If you change your mind or decide you want to reenlist, here’s the meeting coordinates.
RK took the ship, slipped it into her jacket pocket and smiled. “Thanks, Havock, and I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Havock nodded and headed out of the bar.

RK took one last sip of her drink. Time to go home.
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"I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you." -Byran(Liam Neeson), Taken 2009

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[This message has been edited by RK (edited December 22, 2015 1:02:04 PM)]
Havock
ComNet Marshal
 
Havock
 
[VE-ARMY] Brigadier General
[VE-DJO] Krath Priest(ess)
[VE-ICS] Intelligence Agent
[VE-VEHC] Brigadier General*
 
Post Number:  2307
Total Posts:  2413
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Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 22, 2015 2:00:44 PM    View the profile of Havock 
"Are you saying you're a threat to the Empire?"

"I'm saying I'm a threat to your mental health."

"If that ain't the truth I don't know what is." Havock took a deep breath and poured the both of them another full glass of whiskey.


Ayme stared into the amber liquid trying to comprehend how her life could become so confusing in such a short amount of time. The imperials kept filtering in, slowly filling the lounge and Ayme knew it was only a matter of time before she would be called into a room so she could be brought up to speed. Then they would brief everyone else and life would return to normal. Whatever normal was anymore.

“Your thing.”

Jacen frowned and turned slowly. “What?”

Ayme lifted her glass to look into the liquid from eye level. “You said, you were told about this reunion while you were doing your thing. What is that exactly?”

“Nothing.”

The glass came slamming back to the bar sending a spray of liquid to the surrounding area. “I tell ya what Jay. I’m doing my best, I’m trying here, but if you don’t want to talk to me just say that. I’ll go, and you won’t have to worry about talking to me again.”

The sea foam green eyes hardened then looked away. Ayme sighed and turned to leave the bar only to be stopped by a soft voice that seemed to cut through the growing ambient noise.

“Spice, drugs, whatever, I made sure it got where it needed to go. So yea the thing we fought about most is the thing I do for a living now.” He finished the words bitterly with a scoff before drowning his glass.

Ayme took a moment to swallow all the anger she felt. She leaned against the bar and filled Jacen’s glass. “Jay I…”

Aeos approached suddenly startling both former troopers as she pushed between them, angling her body to face Jacen.

“Everything okay?” she queried.

“Get off your horse Aeos, everything is fine.” Havock scoffed into her glass.

“Hi there, I’m-“

“Aeos, I know.” The man replied with half a smirk on his face as he scratched the stubble on his chin. Aeos frowned, retracting her extended hand from him.

“And you are?”

He smirked again, his one visible eye glinting in the light.

“Jacen. Havock and I have history. You would know, you regularly saw us screaming at each other.”

“The only person I know that was seeing Havock was…..Star, you’re kidding me. That’s you? It’s… good to see a familiar face.” She started awkwardly.

Ayme looked between her sister and her former partner. The tension was clearly felt in the air. Zasati had always been a protector of sorts, she practically pulled her hair out trying to keep Ayme from getting herself killed.

“You want me to stay?”

“Sithspit no Zee, it’s awkward enough as it is just seeing you, not both of you.” Havock muttered bluntly.


Aeos looked relieved as she walked back to the table with Merrick. Ayme watched her go then turned back to Jacen. “I have no right to tell you how to live your life Jay. I lost all those privileges when you left, just remember, you lost them too. Keep the bottle, I’m glad your not dead. If I’m the reason you’re hiding at the bar, don’t. I want to say hello to friends from our squad that I thought were dead, you should do that too. “

With that Ayme walked away. She walked away from the person who had kept her sane while at the same time driving her mad. It was time to move into the future and stop looking at the past. An announcement requested the presence of Merrick and Aeos so Ayme made her way over to her favorite medic.

“Heya Karash, got enough medpacks with you for me to sit and have a drink?”


OOC:
Not much just keeping up with the convos
Prefect of the Army
PRF | BGN Ayme 'Havock' Katash | VEA | VE

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Karash
ComNet Member
 
Karash
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
[VE-ICS] Pirate Swabbie
 
Post Number:  412
Total Posts:  424
Joined:  Nov 2008
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 22, 2015 6:41:26 PM    View the profile of Karash 
The place was now full of former military figures of one sort or another. Many of whom were vaguely familiar to Karash, though he could only actually remember a select few. He had been especially keeping his eye on one or two of his former comrades; he had recognised Aeos was stood with Havock before his former Squad Leader had made her way to bar and begun assaulting random people. As he narrowed his eyes Karash thought he recognised the poor fool who had been hit by Havock but decided that it could not possibly be who he thought it was. Sat close to the bar was another of his former squad mates, Heliwer, from what Karash could remember he could just about tolerate the man. The former medic also recognised the woman Heliwer was with but could not quite remember her name.

‘This is it, is it? What was left of the once glorious Empire, now look at us. Sat in some bar waiting to asked if we would like to go back to the people who had dumped us. It is pathetic and you shouldn’t even be here, just go.’ Karash felt completely deflated and began to attempt to get up from his isolated seat.

“Well if it ain’t Karash. How you been old buddy?” Heliwer stood above Karash with a grin.

“How have I… Buddy?!” Karash spat his words and remained locked in his seat, seething.

“Heya Karash, got enough medpacks with you for me to sit and have a drink?”

Karash still sat contemptuously staring at Heliwer but recognised the voice without having to look at who it emanated from. Her voice was bitterly imprinted on his memory and despite the fact they had not spoken or seen each other in years Karash knew her attempt at humour was merely masking something else. The fact that she had obviously been drinking just seemed to annoy Karash even more. Despite all this he was still unable to shift his gaze, he was no longer looking at Heliwer but looking through him.

“Aww, I think he is lost for word.” Heliwer chuckled as he spoke.

“There is a first time for everything I suppose, where’s my drink?” Havock attempted to laugh but made a noise that vaguely resembled a sigh. 

“I’ll get us all one, try and coax him back to life.” Heliwer said patting Karash on the back.

Medpacks? Why the hell would I have medpacks? More to the point why the hell would I waste any supplies I did have on you?” Karash spat his words at Havock who faltered slightly as she sat down.

“What’s your problem? Not that you ever actually needed anything wrong to act like a giant…” The former General steadied herself and tried to regain what little composure she had.

“My problem is this.” Karash said as he gestured wildly. “What the hell are we doing here Havock?”

“I don’t know. Where’s that drink?” She said looking longingly at the bar.

“You don’t know?” Karash said exasperatedly. “Well I am sorry, General, but I at least thought you might have known something.”

“Do I look like I am still a General to you?” Havock met Karash’s stare.

“No.” He spoke narrowing his eyes. “But then again you never did. So how do you expect me to tell the difference now?” Karash had to suppress a smirk.

For a moment the two sat staring at each with complete contempt. All of the exterior noise of the place seemed to disappear as they sat angrily looking at each other, both waiting for the other to make their next move. After what was only a few seconds, even though it may have felt like an eternity, Havock laughed in Karash’s now distorted face.

‘Absolutely typical of the bloody woman…’

It was at that moment that Heliwer returned with the drinks, “Here we go.” The gruff man placed them down heavily on the table.

Karash quickly snatched two of the glasses off of the table, “I do not drink and she does not need any more.”

“Thank you nurse but I’ll decide when enough is enough.” Havock pulled one of the glasses out of Karash’s hands and swiftly gulped it down.

“So who was it then?” Karash asked whilst pointing at the bar. “The poor idiot over there who annoyed you.”

Havock stared almost shyly into her glass, “Look again, you know who it is.”

“Oh, so it is her. . . well I suppose him now.” Karash spoke, swirling the liquid in his glass absentmindedly. “I did think as much, there is only one person in the universe I know that gets that sort of reaction out of you.”

For a few more moments the three sat in a sort of awkward silence, no one quite knowing what to say next. In another universe this sort of event would be full of laughter and joy, instead the room was full of scenes just like this one; although Karash doubted that anything could be more uncomfortable than this.

“So, err, Karash… How come you gave up the drink.” Heliwer said attempting to revive the conversation.

Karash looked down at the glass of brown liquid still swirling in his hands, “I didn’t need it anymore.” As he finished his words he downed the drink and winced. “But now I am forced to be with you… people, again I am going to need all the help I can get.”

“Heh, you don’t change.” Heliwer was once again grinning.

“And you better watch yourself, I didn’t bring any medical supplies and from the look of things the medical corps won’t be joining us.” Karash said, once again glaring at Havock. 

For just a moment, it almost felt like old times. Almost.
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Raziel
ComNet Disciple
 
Raziel
 
[VE-ARMY] High Colonel
[VE-DJO] Dark Jedi Primarch
[VE-ICS] Privateer
 
Post Number:  2842
Total Posts:  2873
Joined:  Feb 2001
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 23, 2015 3:59:47 AM    View the profile of Raziel 
Ripples.

They started off so small and yet could spread far and wide. Yet as they because large they became increasingly faint. So for a ripple to spread across the known Galaxy, it had to start as a mighty wave. Apparently Master Skywalker taught the pupils in his new academy that one could either hear the faint ripples or throw the largest stones. Raziel was a listener.

He'd found the nexus of this ripple before it had even started to spread.

He was afforded a view of a twinkling, tight knit cluster of stars from the officer's mess hall. Garbed in tight black robes with no rank insignia in sight it was clear he was not supposed to be here. Yet as he calmly drank his steaming caf and watched the stars no one moved to question him. A young officer entered and moved to sit at his table. From beneath that cowl bright emerald eyes gazed out.

The officer froze in place, a look of consternation spread over his features. The expression gradually smoothed out to be replaced by a distant smile.

“I'm sorry,” he said with a curt nod, before heading off to find another seat. Raziel returned to his hot drink.

There had been no rest, no retirement for him. There never could be. With no cause to latch onto, he'd simply found another one. Piece by piece he'd dismantled the bothan spynet from the inside. Slowly replacing the vast, nefarious intelligence network with connections of his own. There was something deeply satisfying in building a web strand by strand. It was all about influence. You had to find someone's weak spot, a past misdeed or a well kept secret, and use it. Eventually you had the individual tied up in the web. When he tugged on those strands, they would dance to his tune. Anything to keep him focused, keep him busy. Being left alone with his own thoughts was a prospect he could not relish.

Raziel sat and watched the stars, waiting for the next great distraction to begin.



Ooc/ i don't know which star Destroyer Raziel has snuck aboard, but I thought someone might pick me up for a chat down the line.

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[This message has been edited by Raziel (edited December 23, 2015 4:01:40 AM)]
Merrick
ComNet Member
 
Merrick
 
[VE-ARMY] Brigadier General
[VE-DJO] Initiate
[VE-ICS] Senior Company Agent
 
Post Number:  648
Total Posts:  656
Joined:  Feb 2002
Status:  Offline
  RE: Revival
December 23, 2015 6:32:04 AM    View the profile of Merrick 
As soon as she was reasonably sure Aeos wouldn’t hit him any more, Merrick left her with Evis so they could catch up and went to see to the tedious process of resurrecting him. The privates still stood outside the door, and they snapped to attention - sloppily - when she exited the cell. She ignored them and spoke to their sergeant instead, using his console to make some changes to the record she had personally marked as deceased all that time ago. She also muted the sound on the security feed so Aeos and Evis could talk at least somewhat privately. Merrick actually didn’t much care what had happened to Evis in the intervening time, but she was impressed he’d had the stones to return when the call had gone out this time.

Merrick had finished the first stage of bringing Evis back to life, and decided to leave it at that for now. At least he shouldn’t be locked up again for impersonating a dead trooper. Until there was some semblance of organisation, there was little point in doing the rest. She beckoned the sergeant over and ordered that Evis be delivered to the infirmary when Aeos was done with him, just to make sure the Privates hadn’t done him any serious damage in their overzealous attempts at interrogation. It would serve him right if they have, she thought to herself. After telling the trooper to let Aeos know she’d returned to the lounge, Merrick left the brig.

She took the scenic route, meandering through the ship as though she owned the place, and taking the opportunity to peek behind the curtains. Havock’s ‘joke’ about this all being a trap for the Empire’s remnants had echoed her own thoughts on the matter, and she was curious to see just how much of the activity aboard the SSD was genuine. The bustle in the hangar had been an impressive welcome, but she suspected the truth of things lay elsewhere. All the control stations and other important parts of the ship seemed well enough manned, but the majority of the corridors, living quarters, and eating facilities were deserted. Well, it is a massive ship, and we did get our asses kicked.

Bored with her self-guided tour, Merrick returned to the lounge and, via the bar, found herself a solitary seat once again. People had gradually formed into groups, gravitating towards the people they’d spend most of their time with in the Empire’s previous life. She wasn’t even certain she’d ever served with the majority of the people now filling the room with smoke and noise.
AXO | BGN Skyalin 'Merrick' Tel'sha | VEA | VE
[CotE][SoA][CoH]
Trykon
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Trykon
 
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  RE: Revival
December 23, 2015 1:32:10 PM    View the profile of Trykon 
The Imperial II-class Star Destroyer Adjudicator hurled itself through the alternate dimension that was hyperspace, the crackling blue swirls of energy making the ship’s white hull glow indigo.  The ship’s commander, Admiral Zev Trikarian, stood at the command bridge’s forward viewports, staring through the transparisteel to look out at the flashing vortexes of light.  It was a tunnel, and he was being dragged through it, ever closer to a place he thought he’d never see again.  “Lotaith” he muttered to himself, lost in his memories.  “The Vast Empire.”

As he said the words, Zev’s wandering mind was forcibly brought back to the present: he was overwhelmed by the sudden sensation that something was stalking him.  A predatory presence, very nearby.  His blood went cold as he hurriedly turned away from the viewports, but when he saw that the bridge crew was still giving him a respectful bubble of privacy as they went about their tasks, an involuntary shiver ran up his spine.  He couldn’t see any danger, which made him all the more fearful.

It was a familiar sort of fear, though not one he’d experienced in quite some time.  “Raziel?” he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

It was as if he’d conjured a demon, by speaking its name: the presence resolved itself, in his mind.  It was his old teacher, after all.  In the officer’s mess hall, if Zev wasn’t mistaken.

Grimacing, he left the bridge to the officer of the watch, and headed toward the mess.

***

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t really be a reunion, without you,” Zev said, minutes later.

The short, out-of-place figure removed the cowl of his black robes, and turned around.  His familiar features wore an enigmatic smile.  “I thought the same thing,” he said.

Zev shifted his weight, nervously.  He’d always been uncomfortable in the shorter man’s presence.  “You could have just asked for a ride,” he said at length.

Raziel merely shrugged.

“Well, we’re due to revert to realspace in the Rheagant System in a quarter of an hour or so.”  Zev pointedly stared at the chair opposite Raziel, and when the latter made no objection, he pulled it out with as much grace and calm as he could muster, and sat.  “Perhaps we could chat, until then?”

OOC:
Is that what you had in mind, Raz?
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Trykon
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  RE: Revival
December 23, 2015 2:17:43 PM    View the profile of Trykon 
Rafe left his helmet in the TIE fighter, and clambered out.  It was surreal, being back in the hangar of an Executor-class Star Dreadnought after so much time away.  And that wasn’t even the strangest part, he mused, as he watched a technician start to jog across the deck in his direction.  “What am I doing?” he said aloud, taking in the sheer number of people in the hangar.  All of them wore the half-forgotten uniforms of the Vast Empire, marked with the same symbol as his own battered flight suit.

The tech finally reached him; the man drew himself up and saluted.  Rafe found himself returning the gesture crisply, on instinct.  Muscle memory, he thought.

“Lieutenant Daringer, I presume,” said the technician.  Rafe nodded.  “The Officer of the Deck sends his regards, and his apologies; he’s greeting other arrivals at the moment.  I was told to direct you to the lounge.  It’s this way, sir.”  The man strode away.

Rafe sidled into step behind him, clumsily.  Everyone moved more quickly than he remembered.  “The lounge?” he ventured.

“Yes sir.  There will be a proper briefing, of course, but the brass are still gathering, themselves.  In the meantime, most returning personnel are being offered refreshments in an informal setting.”

Rafe’s eyes went wide.  He was grateful the tech was leading, and therefore couldn’t see his surprise.  “Not what I was expecting,” he said softly, “but sounds fun.”

The technician either didn’t hear, or didn’t think a response was required.  After a surprisingly short journey, they arrived.  “The Lounge, sir.  Welcome home.”  And then he was off, hurrying back down the corridor toward the hangar.

Rafe hesitated, before going in.  His “home” was Marzoon.  His apartment.  Willow’s house across town.  His nephew.  This was… his past.  And a past he wasn’t sure he was proud of, either.

Well, you brought them back their stupid TIE fighter, he thought to himself.  At great personal expense, since the damn thing doesn't even have its own hyperdrive.  And they didn’t immediately execute you as a deserter and thief.  So far, it’s going better than expected.

He chuckled, releasing more tension than he’d realized he had been holding onto.  The entire Vast Empire had collapsed: of course they didn’t care if one abandoned TIE pilot had eventually stopped trying to rendezvous with the fleet.  He hadn’t done anything wrong, anyway.  He’d just survived.

He nodded to himself, and passed through the doorway...

...and immediately hesitated, again.  It looked more like a cantina on the Outer Rim than the lounge of an Imperial star dreadnought.  There were many, many beings crowded into the dimly-lit space, and almost all had drinks in their hands.  Puffs of smoke and the clattering sound of dice falling completed the illusion.

“What a I doing?” he repeated under his breath.  If he couldn’t assuage his conscience by turning himself in for dereliction of duty, then he was hoping to find some resurgent Vast Empire waiting to welcome him back as a cog in an invincible war machine.  His nephew needed a galaxy ruled by law and order, not by chaos and terror and endless civil war.

But looking out at the rag-tag group of survivors huddling together in the bar, Rafe Daringer didn’t think he’d get that comfort, either.  No quick execution, to join his friends who’d been killed at Corellia.  No return to a noble crusade, to kill his guilt more indirectly.

He made a beeline for the bar.
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Aeos
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Aeos
 
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  RE: Revival
December 23, 2015 6:06:26 PM    View the profile of Aeos 
She was still in shock as the door closed behind Merrick, leaving her alone in the small cramped space Eviscares was being kept in. She fell with her back to the wall, and slid down till she was seated, propping her arms on her knees as she regarded him. The anger was seeping out until nothing but a simmer remained in her gut. He's gotten skinnier since she's last seen him...dead. His eyes had a skittish animation as he met her studying gaze.

"You look like shit. " she said softly.

"You look great. " he replied. She shifted uncomfortably. His silvery hair was greasy with much and his armour cracked and outdated.

"Where the frak were you? Do you have ANY idea what you put the squad through with your death? What you made me and Kami go through?" Her voice was calm, collected and almost queit. She already had her emotional outburst earlier, and now she simply wanted the facts.

"Aeos...I'm sorry. I was under orders above your classification."
"The Prefect personally briefed and debriefed me. He would have made me privy to that information."

"I don't understand. I received my briefing signed by the Prefect." Eviscares muttered in confusion.

"Evis, he thought you were dead. Merrick and I closed your records together. What exactly were you doing there?"

Eviscares slid down on his side of the room to the wall as well, dropping his head in his hands.

"Aeos...I can't tell you. It's classified." His grey eyes met her steel blue ones again.

She fiddled with her hands around her knees, her shoulders sagging in emotional exhaustion at the shock of seeing the old Jester alive. The guilt has nagged at her for years about losing him. She's lost members before, but it hadn't hit home so close before Eviscares. Usually the people died before she got to know them, but she and Eviscares have shared roster history together through several missions and  two squads.

"That a ring?"
His voice broke her quiet reflection and she shifted her eyes to him and back to her wedding band. She nodded.
"You got married." He stated, his voice neutral.
She nodded again and sighed.
"Evi," She started surprised at how easy the familiarity of his nickname rolled off her tongue.

"We barely had time to even acknowledge our attraction....and then you frakking died. You didnt expect me-"

"No, not at all. Of course not. It would be selfish. I'm just surprised." He said shaking his head.

"Come on, let's go get you cleaned up." She said trying to break the awkward tension that suddenly sprung up.  She got up and reached over to him, pulling him to his feet. She tried to ignore the tingling in her hands and busied them by dusting off her pants.

"I think you're in dire need of a change of clothes. And a shower and some medical attention. You're gonna have a couple of shiners in a few hours if we don't apply some bacta strips."

He followed her out, pausing behind her as she turned to the two guards who saluted as she exited the cell.  She stared at them sternly, feeling her Imperial skin slickening back into her psyche.

"The next time you have a prisoner in the brig, you do not take it on yourselves to question him until the appropiate authority has arrived. This was just stupid, and any other times I would have you stripped from your ranks and stationed in the Outer Regions. Think next time." She admonished their still forms still frozen in salute.

"It will not happen again Captain."

"Damn straight. Private, escort Sergeant Eviscares to the medical bay. See to it that he receives the proper treatment for your stupid abuse, and then see to it that he receives a fresh uniform. Afterwards, please escort him to the Officer's mess hall where I will be waiting. You will answer to his beck and call until I relieve you from your duty." She winked at Eviscares who was managing a surpressed smirk on his face at the young Private snapping his heels at Aeos' orders.

"I'll catch up with you in a bit, we can head to the cantina from there. And Evis, it's damn good to see you again." She said as she reached out to his arm an affectionate squeeze. He just nodded in return before jerking his head to the Private to escort him.

http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Aeos
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SM|DJR Aeos|Krath|Shades|Raven 5|VEDJ

CPO_Aeos/(=*A*=)][MC1](=*SA*=)
[This message has been edited by Aeos (edited December 23, 2015 6:10:32 PM)]
Eviscares
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Eviscares
 
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  RE: Revival
December 23, 2015 6:59:13 PM    View the profile of Eviscares 
“Sir, Sickbay is that way.”, said one of the privates, managing to add some kind of apologetic subtext into the simple statement.
Eviscares reply was only an absent minded:”I know Private.”, and while he did indeed know, he couldn’t get himself to turn around, instead staring at Aeos while she left.
She hadn’t known. Apparently the prefect hadn’t known. But he… he had had orders…
“Sithspit”, he muttered and turned around.
When he started walking, the two privates fell into step with him. If it wouldn’t have hurt so much, he would’ve laughed. 10 Minutes ago they wanted to beat him into a bloody pulp, now they were calling him sir, and following him around to take care of him.
“Imperials…”, he thought dismissively and then caught himself. He, D’kaleth al Bek, was one of them. He was an NCO in the Storm Trooper Corps of the Vast Empire, not a leg breaker on Dar Soocha. Not anymore.
Shaking his head, to get rid of the confusion he barked at one of the Privates: ”Private, get me a uniform. If the Paperwork isn’t accessible, radio Sickbay.”
“Sir, yes sir.”, came the prompt answer, and the young soldier was already jogging of to acquire a new uniform from the armory, leaving Eviscares to look at the other one.
“Private, get me some caf, on the frakking double.”
“But… Sir… we’re supposed to escort you to sickbay.”, the Private First Class tried to protest.
“Am I speaking Hutt Private? Move that spindly legs of yours.”, he bellowed, grinning under his helmet. And of course, the old reflexes from boot still worked. Before he could realize what he was doing the private had saluted, turned and moved off.
Which was exactly what Evis had needed now. He slowed his steps to a less painful pace, and continued on his way to sickbay.
Aeos was married. Somehow that surprised him, and wounded him more than he had let on. Not that they ever had had enough time to… frakk, it was against regulations anyhow.
Once again he shook his head like a Nerf scaring of Bloodflies. Then he just kept his head down, which was kind of pointless, seeing as he was wearing his helmet again. One thing had to be said for Imperial Standard layouts for ships. If you knew one ship of a class, you knew them all. So he simply let his feet do the thinking, trying to get used to all the little touches of imperial life again, the bright lights, the air that had been recycled one too many times, all the sounds that made it unmistakable that you were in space even though you couldn’t see it.

Upon his arrival at sickbay he found out, that Aeos must have had called ahead, seeing that there was a corpsman standing by and greeting him:”Sergeant Al Bek, please get out of that suit of armour and present to the medic in exam room 2.”

The examination was more thorough than his injuries would’ve warranted, and he had the distinct impression that the medic was under firm orders to make certain that he was actually ready for field duty, and hadn’t gotten a bomb implanted somewhere. So after a tedious 2 hours of being poked, prodded and punctured, he left the room again, now sporting several small bacta patches all over his torso and his face.

And even though Evis head was still in the clouds, trying to make sense of, well, everything, he had to stifle a laugh when he saw the two privates waiting in front of the exam room, one with a freshly pressed uniform, the other with a disposable cup of now cold caf.

He took both items, and turned on his heels, moving back into the exam room, giving an apologetic shrug to the flustered looking medic.
He noticed two things while he was changing back into his duty uniform. The one thing was, that he needed a shave before he could show his face to anyone above his rank again. The other was that his biological hand still tingled where Aeos had touched it.
This was going to be a really really weird day.
Jester Squad
VE Smoker Association
Excitement abounds
I almost can't wait
Relax, I don't want your baby
I already ate

IronHorseSquad forever in my heart!

TR/SGT_Eviscares/3SQD/2PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/VEA/Tadath[LoR]
Raziel
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  RE: Revival
December 24, 2015 11:07:37 AM    View the profile of Raziel 
Raziel was the blank and empty canvas that was sold for far beyond its true worth. People would look at those pretentious works of art and claim that the viewer looked deep into the emptiness and it reflected what they wished to see. That was very literally the case with the dark jedi assassin. A hollow shell of a man, he skimmed the thoughts and expectations of those around him and simply became what they wanted to see.

It made him the perfect chameleon, able to blend into any setting. Yet at the same time it left him helplessly devoid of any true sense of self. When he tried to contemplate who he really was he soon became tangled in the errant thoughts and emotions of all those he had touched. Somewhere in that tangled web was the remains of what he had once been. Extracting those strands and putting them back together into something that resembled a real person was an impossibly task. Each attempt was grueling, every night was haunted by memories that were not his own. When those around him experienced the most powerful emotions their thoughts were seared deep into his psyche. One of the most powerful empaths in the Galaxy and he was a professional killer. There were few nights now when he did not spend his sleeping hours replaying each murder in turn from the perspective of his victim. He was forced to feel every sensation: the pain he had inflicted upon them and the utter despair as they realised they were at the end of their path.

Wyl still feared that enigmatic teacher who seemed almost omniscient to his eyes. He reflected just that. On the surface there was a facade of a smile that covered an enigmatic, unreadable expression.

“Of course,” Raziel stated, as if he had expected such a proposal. “I decided to head towards the centre of interesting times and this seemed a fitting route. Retracing my own steps… in a way. There is a great deal about to happen. The Republic rattles sabres, yet already parties within their new senate fear another Palpatine in their midst. They push for disarmament of the defence forces, returning military power to member states as it had once been. Yet new threats spring up from the remains of the Empire in all corners.

“So I wonder… where do you think you are heading?” he asked slowly. The corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile as he finished. “Your caf tasted like kark by the way,” he added before the Admiral could reply.

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[This message has been edited by Raziel (edited December 24, 2015 11:09:37 AM)]
Trykon
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  RE: Revival
December 24, 2015 12:21:38 AM    View the profile of Trykon 
Zev Trikarian didn’t rise to the bait.  He knew that revealing his annoyance to the Dark Jedi seated across from him was… unwise.  And so he ignored the dig about the Adjudicator’s caf, and focused on the strange man’s question.

He smiled thinly.  “Since I’ve already relayed to you the literal answer to that question, I’ll assume you want to know what my intentions are.”

Maddeningly, Raziel made no response.  Typical.

“My, but I’ve missed our patter,” Zev deadpanned.  “We’ve always had such a lovely conversational rapport.”  He realized, belatedly, that passive-aggressiveness was still… aggressive.  And so he plowed on, modulating his tone to sound more sincere, and more subservient: “In truth, Master, I don’t know.  Much has changed, in two years.”  He touched his rank plack, absentmindedly.  “Where do I think I am heading?” he echoed, deep in thought.

After a pause, he looked Raziel straight in the eye: “I think I’m heading to the galaxy’s biggest career fair, as a recruiter from the most sought-after company to work for.”  Zev felt emboldened; he’d never admitted that, even to himself.  To share the revelation aloud felt… righteous.  He felt brave.  “Mistress Sharpe has done the impossible, in the Ejj Sector: she has forged a truly Imperial polity, on the edge of civilized space.  And she relied upon me, to help her forge the Second Empire.”  He felt a familiar swell of pride.  He went on: “Under her tutelage, I have learned so much, Master.  Together, we have had more success in two years than the so-called Vast Empire managed in its entire, sad history.”

“Have you?” Raziel interjected.  His tone was gentle, the words pointed.

Zev frowned.  “Yes,” he answered after a moment’s hesitation.  “The Ejj Sector is at peace.  Our people - all of our people, not just the wealthy human males among them - are prosperous.  Senator Sharpe’s political brilliance has restored domestic faith in the government without truly giving up executive powers to the mob, and my forces have compelled our galactic neighbors to respect our borders.  How could a fractured, failed state like the poorly-named Vast Empire hope to compare?”

The question hung in the air.  Zev leaned forward.  “Where am I headed, Raziel?” he asked, dropping the respectful form of address, and using the man’s name.  “I’m headed to Lotaith, as I told you.  But I go, not as an errant child, obeying the summons of a long absentee parent.  I go as the co-Regent of the Second Galactic Empire, hell-bent on bringing as many loyal children of the Empire back with me to my home, to protect them against a galaxy gone mad.”

His inner critic instantly started to dissect his chosen rhetoric.  But Zev ignored his doubts, and forced himself to project confidence in his words, as he waited - with exaggerated patience - for Raziel to respond.
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[This message has been edited by Trick (edited December 24, 2015 12:26:35 AM)]
Raziel
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  RE: Revival
December 25, 2015 6:07:52 PM    View the profile of Raziel 
Raziel's expression gave nothing away as Zev spoke. Dextrous hands tapped out a high cadence drum beat on the metallic table. Yet he turned his head to one side as the admiral spoke of Sharpe again. He wondered exactly what she had been up to since he had headed off into the core to forge his own path.

“Order in the chaos,” Raziel said slowly. “The Republic is already as corrupt and bloated as it once was. They bloviate and sharpen knives as the Galaxy crumbles around them. Politicians more at home in spacious Coruscant apartments than on their home worlds. They take the opportunity to further their own careers without realising what this freedom they feel they have bought has cost their own people,” Raziel said slowly, one eyebrow rising a fraction.

“Interesting times indeed,” he added, a sparkle in his emerald eyes. “There's a proverb about that, I'm sure. Well this will all be very interesting to observe I think. Do you have any better caf machines on this boat?” he asked, looking back out to the cerulean vortex the ship sailed through.

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[This message has been edited by Raziel (edited December 25, 2015 6:09:06 PM)]
Avalar
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Avalar
 
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  RE: Revival
December 26, 2015 12:13:12 AM    View the profile of Avalar 
Her finger clicked the button.

“Right.. um... oh, the date,” hazel eyes frantically darted around the room, “well nevermind,” she turned her attention back to the small device in her hand, “This is Makenna O’Malley’s voice journal. I know a lot of people think I’m weird for doin’ this but... well I want ye both to hear about my adventures. That way when we finally find each other again I won’t forget the details.”

The woman’s voice sang in a strange lyrical lilt from some distant planet. Her form was bent over as she sought a comfortable sitting position on the edge of her bed, “So, apparently today there’s some sort of Vast Empire reunion. It’s so odd to think I’ve been brought here right when they’re gatherin’ old forces. Remember when we would use them to deter pirates? But they scattered in the last couple years, not to be heard from....”

For a moment her words drifted off, memories capturing her voice. But the silence was cut as she bounded back into her journal, “So today I’m goin’ to meet a bunch of vets! There are several around here already, but they don’t have the same history that this lot does. Rumors are that they date back to several years ago, closer to when the Vast Empire first came into power! I’m so happy to have been taken on at a time like this. I just know that I will find ye, and we’ll be reunited again, and with a better power in place to keep us all at peace.”

She continued into her recording, voice dancing, talking about the rudeness of the army grunt who had barged into her in the hall, and how good the caf was, oh and the time earlier that day when she got the opportunity to borrow an actual print book from a friend she had made. Life was going well, though she had not yet had the opportunity to fly in any dangerous situations, not that she wanted to, but the thought of how thrilling it would be consumed her thoughts often.

“Anyway, I must be endin’ this. Goin’ to head off to the lounge, see if I can make some friends. I love ye, mom and dad. No day goes by that I don’t think about ye. Until next time,” Makenna clicked the button to stop the recording and set it with the rest of her voice journals. She then straightened, inhaled deeply, and exhaled. New friends. History of the Vast Empire. This was all just too exciting to bear much longer!

She grabbed a couple necessities before stumbling out of her assigned quarters. Her lips could not help but be upturned. There were so many questions to ask. What battles did they fight? What crazy things happened to them? How did they manage to survive when everything seemed to be going downhill? Every question put more bounce in her step. So much to know. So many people to meet.

Makenna bounded into the entrance of the lounge, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, only to be met by a room full of drinking, shouting, and swearing. Yet it did not seem to faze her.

OOC:
Haven't written in about... a year? More? XD If someone wants to jump in on the end of this and interact with her feel free to.
SCPO | Makenna "Avalar" | FM | 175th Aurora Squadron | 27th Phoenix Wing | 2nd Fleet | SFC | VEN | VE

[SoA]  [MC1]  [CC: W]  [DSM] x2  [CBV]  [CC: D]  [CNQST]  [WM1]

TRN | INI Zarya | VEDJ | VE
Trykon
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Trykon
 
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[VE-NAVY] Rear Admiral
 
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  RE: Revival
December 26, 2015 12:48:38 AM    View the profile of Trykon 
Zev couldn’t help but smile.  He still wasn’t Raziel’s equal, in many ways, but the wildly asymmetrical power dynamic that had defined their earliest interactions seemed to have changed.  Zev was no longer an abject neophyte, desperate and scared.  And he sensed that his relationship with Mistress Sharpe - so strong in the Dark Side - had elevated him in Raziel’s esteem, as well.  That’s probably wishful thinking, his inner critic snapped.  You’re still overeager to impress the man.  Obviously.  Zev’s smile collapsed.

“If you’ll follow me to the bridge,” he said, abruptly pushing back from the table, “I’m sure my personal steward could oblige.  I don’t take caf, myself, but Raytchill is used to entertaining Moffs and Admirals, on very short notice; she’ll be able to offer you the best the Adjudicator has on board.”

He extended one arm to indicate the way, and cocked his head in a half-bow.
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Tetrarch
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  RE: Revival
December 26, 2015 11:02:27 PM    View the profile of Tetrarch 
Cathal hated ship duty. When the orders had come to relocate to the Adjudicator, they'd rejoiced. After two days spaceside, they'd sunk back into a malaise. For the ground pounders, there wasn't so much to do. Oh of course there was always essential maintenance and stripping down of equipment to be done and inspections but nothing out of the ordinary. It didn't help that his NCOs were big believers in finding work when there was no work to be done. 

And it wasn't just to do with the mind numbing monotony of it all. He was a forestworlder, born and bred. To be crammed in with metal on all sides and no blue sky, it was enough to drive him mad. The urban combat in the Ejj sector had been bad enough but being trapped inside metal was worse. He was improving at least, he could still remember less than a year ago, his first transit in-system to the Arbiter. That helpless fear gripping at his stomach while their shuttle pilot evaded Rebel fighters. Thank Macha their TIE escort had gotten them there in one piece. Give him good solid ground any day.

He straightened up automatically as he saw a naval rating approach the bridge, the rating had snapped off a salute and the two bridge guards certainly didn't merit that. With the armour, you could just about slouch a little comfortably with practice but he wouldn't want to try that trick too often near an officer. You did get stiff but you learned the tricks for tensing a muscle here and stretching another there.

The Admiral strode out, Swamprat and his fellow bodyguard falling into step behind him as he strode quickly towards the mess. Funny how a few incidents could see your career change. Aostrolla had been a nightmare. Regent Sharpe being shot down first, then a rival Imperial fleet jumping in system to engage them. It had seen a rescue mission be followed right on its heels by orders for an assassination.

A mutinous army regiment declaring for Ysanne Isard, they'd gone in to quell it. Oh they'd had their doubts, but everyone kept quiet. Especially with the officers and NCOs just waiting for the first sign of dissent. His baptism of fire and it had been against former allies. Fighting through the aftermath of an orbital bombardment, Imperial Army troopers holding to the bitter end. Some of the wags had commented how 'It was necessary to destroy the fort in order to save it' for the newscasters that swarmed the site after. Then right down to the command bunker to terminate the colonel's command.

Ugly work. Bloody work. But he'd done his job. So had the rest of Chimera. Considering that job had involved the somewhat delicate operation of executing a rogue Imperial officer, he'd found himself not quite promoted but upgraded. Part of the personal security detail for the Admiral.

Ejj was...pacified and the fighting over with. A time for rebuilding. But they were on the move again. Cathal wasn't political, he left that to the more clued in ones. Usually the coreworlders had opinions on that sort of stuff. A Kuati sensor tech was running a pool on their destination, with odds of eight to one on Coruscant. He'd scoffed at those ones. Still hadn't stopped him betting a day's pay though.

They stood outside the mess while their charge conversed with a figure in robes, unfamiliar to them. Scuttlebutt would have assigned him a dozen different identities by watch end. Still the figure made him shiver for some reason as he and the Admiral made for the bridge. He exchanged a look with his fellow bodyguard, that said it all, keep eyes on.

Something he hadn't trained for made him a lot more nervous than he should have felt. But loyalty had its own benefits. Swamprat did not want to be known as the one who'd let the co-regent of the Second Empire get murdered in front of him. It took a strong effort to stop his finger dancing on the trigger. He'd done that day one out of nerves as well and just succeeded in spooking nearby naval crewmen and technicians. The two seemed to be on amiable terms but it wasn't his job to be relaxed.

Loyalty was worth its weight in gold. From fighting Imperials in Ejj to the rumours circling the ship, Cathal was still struggling to work out which side he was actually on. He'd hunted smugglers back on Coillte, X-Wings had tried to blow up his shuttle, the Imperial Army had fought him on Aostrolla and now they were en route to another system. To fight? Maybe. Who? Anybody. When? Soon. The debates in the mess would have been tossed out of the old Senate with every half arsed amateur political theorist putting his point forward. For all he knew, they were in the Republic now.
[This message has been edited by Tetrarch (edited December 26, 2015 11:03:32 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Tetrarch (edited December 26, 2015 11:16:24 PM)]
StOrMz
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  RE: Revival
December 27, 2015 2:11:59 PM    View the profile of StOrMz 
OOC:
Aboard the as-yet unnamed SSD

The Wookiee commander believed the holomeeting with Trikarian had gone abysmally, so say the least. The conversation started off awkward enough, discussing the near fatal incident Stormz had encountered two years previous. The ensuing numerous surgeries, physical therapy treatments, and constant testing had made a grouchy old Wookiee just that much more rough around the edges. Betrayal had been the underlying feeling since regaining consciousness in a bacta tank, without his once considered friend beside him, assisting him like the old times.

Ph’rranix remained motionless, staring blankly where the Holo had projected earlier, for some time. Thinking intensively. So much had changed in those short two years. Trick no longer seemed to be the person Stormz had remembered. It was like someone had stolen his form, but replaced the personality and the Wookiee couldn’t figure out why.

The entry to the Naval Commander’s office hissed open, as the blast doors subsided, allowing the silhouette of a tall, slender, human-like individual to protrude as she made his way in.

Without the NCC able to make decisions rationally for a period, and the CNO commandeering a formidable taskforce, as it appeared to the Admiral, a new face needed to be in charge. Even if it was a temporary change.

“Admiral, your reports, sir,” a proud, yet femine voice informed.

The recently appointed Chief of Naval Operations, Sol Cortana, was a brilliant woman. One who earned respect as opposed to demanding such things. As one of only a few female officers in her class, she scored extremely high in several fields, the most prominent being naval strategy. She worked hard for everything she received, in some cases harder than necessary in an attempt to overcome the prejudice the Imperial forces had against anything not human and male. Undeterred, her work ethic and ingenuity on the battlefield allowed her admiration by many of her colleagues, including the Naval Commander in Chief.

Stormz looked the reports over, relatively unenthused. He yearned for more battlefield excursions, but was not up to the physical demands yet.

Sol remained stationary, awaiting further instructions, which came shortly as a short bellow relieved her of her current state and let her get on with what she was doing.

As Cortana left the room, she noticed a small commotion down the corridor to the left. Although her next assignment was adjacent to Stormz’ office, she decided to take a moment to try and calm the small uprising first. Hearing it as well, but attempting to block it out, the Wookiee commander continued to review his reports before going about the remainder of his day. As the commotion’s noise grew, however, the Wookiee grew agitated and decided to deal with this issue himself. The heap of mass slowly rose out of his chair, still leery of his not yet perfect balance. He cautiously limped toward the entry of his office, yet as the Admiral passed through, a faint noise trickled into his ear.

Beep,beep,beep in rapid succession and then a large explosion protruded from his office, knocking the Wookiee down and rendering him unconscious.

Slightly deafened by the explosion reverberating off the walls within the ship, Sol took a moment to recover and then rushed back toward the office that her Naval Commander had just left.

“WE NEED A MEDIC,” the Commodore exclaimed while hastening her pace upon the sight of the unconscious Imperial. As she reached the commander, her pace slowed, cautious of another attack.

Shuffling behind her, rather hastily, a group of medics surged past the female officer, and began attending to the Wookiee with great care. The lead medic gently prodded the furry carcass, attempting to find broken bones, open wounds and any immediate foreign objects before softly rolling him onto a hoverbed and whisking him off to the nearest medbay for immediate medical assistance.

Upon overseeing the safe departure of the NCC, she carefully turned back toward his office. Hoping to find the explanation, or at least some clues to the cause of this atrocity. Tip-toeing in, remaining meticulous to not contaminate any possible evidence, Sol made her way to where the Admiral’s desk once sat. It was apparent, from the markings and level of destruction, that the blast had taken place in this location. The devastation left her staring at the wall behind her, where splintered wood from the desk impaled itself.

So enthralled with the recent happenings, Cortana was startled when a hard hand placed itself on her shoulder. “Ma’am,” a semi-robotic voice announced, “we need you to vacate the room so we can run scans and gather evidence.”

The Commodore remained motionless for another moment, then silently turned to exit the room.

Sol frowned, as she exited the crime scene.  The cowardly attack reminded her of the poisoning plot that had struck the Vast Empire's naval high command, years before.  But just as it had before, the Vast Empire would survive.  Her mind raced.  With Ph'rranix so seriously injured, she was the new acting Naval Commander in Chief.  And her mission was clear: find the bastards who had hit the VE on the very eve of their resurgence, and end them.

Run a genetic trace marker analysis, on the combustion residue," she said as she passed the droids, already crowding into the room.  "And when you have the results, compare them to our own personnel database, first."

So help me, she thought to herself, if this was the work of someone who used to work for us... her thoughts trailed off, even as her hands balled into fists at her sides.

OOC:
I want to give big props to Tryk for several things. First being getting my interested in writing again, with his original post in this story. Secondly, he's assisted me with the plot of this since I proposed it to him. Lastly, he assisted me and actually wrote the last portion of this post, as I was out of ideas for it.

So thank you, Trykon. Keep doing what you do.
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[This message has been edited by StOrMz (edited December 27, 2015 2:19:04 PM)]
[This message has been edited by StOrMz (edited December 27, 2015 2:44:54 PM)]
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