Star Wars OPEN The Kingdom

IC: Jim Palso
Crew Cabin, Hunk of Junk, Hyperspace


Winterkill’s eyes bulged and his lips curled, his visage turned into a twisted mask of cold murderous hate as a hiss escaped his gritted teeth. His hands clenched into fists and he felt the syringes in his hand. He saw a flash of himself stabbing ‘Jim’ in his eyes, the syringes going deep into his brain for having mentioned the one thing that would set Winterkill into a frenzy.

"Winterkill," Jim started, "What did I----oh..." Jim breathed the last word as he made sure his hand were clear of his holsters---but he made sure his left side draw across his front (reserve draw to the right hand) was able to be easily reached---as he finished with, "...Sith."

Palso wouldn't hesitate to splatter Winterkill's brains all over the back wall. Call it abstract art with a touch. But he also didn't want to do that.

The nagai bit down on his tongue, tasting blood, then lept backwards, making distance between himself and Lasso, even as he threw the would-be weapons on the floor, as if they were poisonous snakes who suddenly burst into flames. Winterkill backpedaled until his back hit the wall, he kept his hands from reaching anything and looked straight ahead.

Jim kept his hands to his sides and lazily raised half way in the air. Not because he didn't care about the situation, but because if Winterkill didn't get his head together, Jim would have to become an artist really quick and the flexibility to move quicker overrode the desire to make Winterkill feel safe at the moment.

Don't make me do it! Jim thought as he stared the alien down, Don't make me do it!

The nagai’s breathing came in ragged gasps as he looked to Jim, forcing himself to see his fellow ‘Merc’ instead of his most hated enemy. Winterkill had almost killed Palso on a primal reflex.

How could he have forgotten?.

“If I knew you were going to ask me that, I would have told Billy to aim for your head.” He almost spat.

"Yeah," Jim replied in equal distaste, "Well its been over a year, Winterkill! Not since we first met! And boy, was I tempted to blow your brains out all over---"

“Don’t move. Don’t speak. Give me a moment. It'll pass…and we both... get to live….”

Winterkill took a deep breath, then released it with a long exhale, as he methodically forced himself to come under control.

Jim looked over at Tora Senshi standing there, staring into the crew cabin with his intense and unnerving solid blue eyes. Palso lowered his arms slowly, glancing to Winterkill, then stared down the lightsaber ninja, "What you looking at, Blue Eyes?"

The black clad ninja said nothing---as he apparently always did---and just turned and walked away. In the distance, Jim could hear Billy asking him what the noise was all about. Without hearing the ninja speak, Billy apparently seemed content to not check on the disturbance and after a few long moments, Jim made sure to close the crew cabin door this time, then stared down his friend & comrade for a long moment, before softening his stance and look.

"I'm sorry," Palso replied. He shrugged, "I forgot...about the memories," Palso sighed and sat down on the bottom bunk, looking at the floor for a long moment---as if he was looking at something. Jim started whispering what Billy had said about the Prophecy of the Living Force, "Mythical kingdoms and stories will be changed forever. Those left will understand the sacrifice of those gone. Across the skies, knights will remember their tales in those days and teach others."

Jim paused, looking at the floor, thinking. He repeated the whole passage again, before focusing on the last line and whsipering it again, "Across the skies, knights will remember their tales in those days and teach others."

Jim looked at the floor, his facial expression starting to change from confused and thoughtful to understanding as he repeated the whisper, "Across the skies, knights will remember their tales in those days and teach others."

He looked up at the nagai and cursed, "Well Sith!"

Palso didn't wait as he jumped up and hobbled to the door, hitting the control button on the door and not waiting for it to slid open as he forced himself through. He hobbled towards the cockpit---where Tora Senshi ("He") stopped him cold, standing in front of the cockpit access corridor and in between both the crew lounge and crew cabin in the main corridor. Jim stared the ninja down, looking into the man. Jim could feel something, as if the ninja was peering into his very soul. Jim felt uneasy, but something clicked just then and he said under his breath, "How did you know what I was thinking?"

Palso was ready to fight his way to the cockpit, but instead the ninja just stepped aside quietly. Palso looked at the humanoid long and hard before hobbling his way to the cockpit. Why was he just letting him go?

"How, how are you doing, Cap----" Walking Library started, but Palso interrupted him.

"Get us out of hyperspace!" Jim blurted.

"But, sir, if we exit---"

"Now!" Jim ordered and as he reached for the cockpit controls himself, and then yelled loud enough for the whole ship to hear, "TAKE THE SHIP!"

Jim pushed the hyperspace lever forward and braced himself as the light freighter snapped out of hyperspace, throwing the young gunslinger into the back of the pilot's seat with such force that he connected with the metal body of Walking Library on the other side with a thud.

"Ouch," Jim breathed and as he collected himself, he looked back to see the ninja withdrawing his Tac-S-1 Strategic Katana Sword and waiting for any would-be attacker (and how the heck hadn't he moved during the sudden reversion from hyperspace???).......


************


"Where you going now?" Billy looked up from the card game---again and this time annoyed---as He just left. Billy shook his head, "That's right," the mercenary breathed, "Not allowed to speak," he shook his head and looked across the table to Havah Jeth, "Well partner, you've been rather silent on the matter of not killing me which," he tapped at the cards on the table with his finger, "Is your debt now."

Just then Billy heard a ruckus and that blasted Corellian yell loud enough to wake the dead!

"TAKE THE SHIP!"

Billy looked at Havah Jeth for a long moment, the two men seeming staring each other down on who would act first.

"Oh hell!" Billy exclaimed and went for his blaster pistol---but just then, he was jerked violently upwards and outwards and sprawled out on the game table and cards, before being just as violently pushed backwards into the bench seat moments later as the light freighter exited hyperspace with little warning.

Dazed from his head impacting the back of the bench seat, he lazily reached for his blaster pistol again and pointed it outwards as he got up and walked around the table unsteadily as his vision was blurred still (but getting better) and he looked around the crew lounge.....


TAG @greyjedi125 & @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Flying Officer Rick Johnson
Pilot Quarters, Darkest Night, orbit around planet of Javin


Some time later....


Rick Johnson slipped into the darkebed pilot quarters for Bad Love Squadron with as much stealth as a pre-teen slipping back into their parent's house after curfew. Not that he had any experience with that or anything.

As usual, the 11 other members of the squadron were in various states of habitation. Some were sleeping in bunks, others were reading books, drawing, or watching movies on their datapads (with ear plugs in) in their bunks, while at least two others sat at the central community table watching the local holonet news with the volume down very low. Major Pérez was over by the kitchen warming up a late night snack, the only place in the quarters with a dedicated light source on at the moment.

"Late night, Flying Officer Johnson?" Héctor asked from the kitchen.

"Just out with some buddies from B shift, maintenance, sir," Johnson replied, barely in the quarters and not even a moment after the doors closed, choking off the light from the outside corridor into the quarters.

"I see," the major replied, adding, "You better get some shut eye. Tomorrow will be a busy day."

"Yes, sir," Johnson said and as he went to bottom bunk and started the process of de-clothing down to the basics for rest, he shook his head with a mumble, "Busy day, my arse," Johnson complained to himself, "We'll be sitting in those blasted Pods for hours on in or---even worse---just being scrambled to intercept a bulk cruiser that drifted out of a civilian shipping lane," Johnson sighed, "What I would do for some real action around here, aside from doing...nothing."

Johnson shook his head in disgust. What he would give to have his first real dogfight! Sure, the reconnaissance and escort down to the Sentry Moon had something to remember, but even then, it was still the same-old, same-old. Patrol, escort, reconnaissance; patrol, escort, reconnaissance. After a year with the Empire, he was starting to wonder if he would ever pull the triggers in anger like those recruitment holo vids showed he would? Ignoring his own feelings of worthlessness at what he did for a career choice, Johnson curled up under the sheets and turned to face the wall as the major turned off the kitchen lights and went towards his own bunk.

Must have been nice to fight in the Clone Wars, Johnson thought, At least you had a chance to become an ace pilot then!



TAG @Darth_Elu , @Sinrebirth

 

IC: KX-0N
GenMess One, Darkest Night, High Orbit of Javin

What happened next was something far outside of any subroutine that KX-0N had access to. CDN-23-1 began a song and dance number, and then began actions that could lead to the contamination of food articles. The final act of throwing items about everywhere was the final straw. Swinging the cleaver - broadside - he aimed to incapacitate the haywire cook.

"GenMess One - Initiate Kitchen Lockdown procedures!" it stated loudly. "As for you. . ." turning it found the crowd but not the mystery stormtrooper. Alert level raised. Stepping over the body KX plugged into the data terminal in the kitchen by the freezer. "Security Alert - One Mental Cook needing escort to medbay for medical and psych eval and debrief on dangerous actions in kitchen. Secondary - Unknown Stormtrooper attempting entry into Kitchen harassing said cook refusing to identify, fled scene. Images of both parties included in attachment to report." Stating the form outloud whilst filling it out it knew was a programing glitch from his upgrade. Still it had to be done. Walking away from the link he moved to the kitchen freezer looking at the mess and set to begin inventory check and corrections after imaging the scene.

It would be five minutes before it double checked the special section and discovered the beginning of it's shift protection images did not match the current status of things. Jingle would have to be notified and brought off of being off shift. The criminality status for both CDN-23-1 and Unknown Stormtrooper Lizard would then be elevated.

TAG: @Bravo , @Silvertough

**************************************************

IC: Havah Jeth
Crew Cabin, Hunk of Junk, Hyperspace

"Where you going now?" Billy looked up from the card game---again and this time annoyed---as He just left. Billy shook his head, "That's right," the mercenary breathed, "Not allowed to speak," he shook his head and looked across the table to Havah Jeth, "Well partner, you've been rather silent on the matter of not killing me which," he tapped at the cards on the table with his finger, "Is your debt now."

Just then Billy heard a ruckus and that blasted Corellian yell loud enough to wake the dead!

"TAKE THE SHIP!"

Billy looked at Havah Jeth for a long moment, the two men seeming staring each other down on who would act first. Havah reached down, but instead of his pistol he grabbed the crash webbing hooks on either side.

"Oh hell!" Billy exclaimed and went for his blaster pistol---but just then, he was jerked violently upwards and outwards and sprawled out on the game table and cards, before being just as violently pushed backwards into the bench seat moments later as the light freighter exited hyperspace with little warning.

Havah meanwhile was a little sore in the arms but had been able to avoid any major injury. What happened next was his issue of extricating his hands from their spasmed positions of holding on for dear life. Lifting his flute from his boot he made ready as Billy lazily got up and pointed his blaster in the wrong direction. Looking and aiming around the crew lounge.

With a silent step he stood and moved forward, whacking with the flute at the base of the man's skull. It should be lights out and then he could appropriate the blaster. Next would be to see if it had a broad coverage stun setting or not, if so move forward and try it out on rapid at any shadows ahead. A curiosity test whilst he recited multiple card counting applications for the games they had played as well as the latest flute concerto he had heard. With a body on autopilot actions last meaning - after all, no one would die today it seemed.


TAG @greyjedi125 & @Bravo

 

IC: Chief Navigator Selef Vicxavier
Hanger, XQ1 Platform, edge of the Unknown Regions

Selef looked out from the interior edge of the mag field, his cigarette half the size it once was as he took another long drag off of it and exhaled the smoke, watching it bounce off of the mag field and curl back into the hanger bay. The smoke temporarily clouded his vision of the Unknown Regions that lay before him, a truly beautiful & terrifying sight less then 10,000 meters away. Its pure mass escaped his normal vertical vision and dwarfed the space station completely in all directions.

"Sir," said one of the pair of Imperial Navy Commandos.

Selef turned his attention to the pair of lightly armored look-alike stormtroopers. Elite members of the Imperial Navy Trooper corps, these specially trained guardsmen were oftentimes confused with stormtroopers for their armor. Posted only on the most sensitive of areas for the Empire's security, the presence of these commandos told anyone everything they needed to know: the Empire had an interest here and security was a must. Posted out here on this remote space station on the edge of known space before the Unknown Regions, told everything anyone needed to know: the Empire wanted to keep an eye on the Unknown Regions.

"Yes?" Selef asked.

"Sir, you're passed the yellow safety line," said the same trooper.

Selef looked down and smiled thinly, "Oh, yes, yes I am," he stepped back the few steps it took to correct his stance and looked up at the troopers, "Better, gentlemen?"

"Yes, sir," the same trooper replied and the pair moved on.

Selef watched them go before returning to the mag field and taking a few steps over the line again. He smiled at his little rebellion as he brought up the bottle of brandy he had in his other hand and took another swig of it. "By the moons of Gozgo," he cursed under his breathe after the swig. He looked back for a moment, seeing the pair of commandos disappear behind the Sentinel-class Landing Craft and 3 TIE Scouts that were receiving extensive special upgrades for his mission ahead of him, the dozen technicians and 10 droids working as fast as they could to get the work done; he shook his head and turned back to the mag field, taking a drag of his cigarette as he looked upon the beautiful of way before him: dizzily lights, moving shadows, and shooting comets across it all (to name a few), "We're about to embark on a top secret mission into the Unknown Regions and we're concerned about yellow safety lines. Go frost yourselves."

They were behind schedule. Something that made Selef uneasy. He would have to make up the time, which meant taking risks. But the Empire had deadlines and he, as an Imperial Officer, would meet the deadline....


TBC
( @galactic-vagabond422 for reference)

 

Saraali Deatar IC:
~Corridors, Darkest Night~

It would appear Officer Kya was in full agreement. Well that made things certainly a lot smoother. Excellent!

“I am sure they will fail to meet the requisite standards. But we must give them a chance, perhaps. The Empire does not waste assets, after all. But it is swift, and sure.”

Saraali said nothing to this, but she nodded with genuine agreement. For the time being, she was having trouble sensing anything ‘fanatic’ about the man’s devotion to the Galactic Empire. It was merely following the laws and protocols set down from their superiors. What was wrong with that?

“As we have a direct order to rest up before deployment, I shall do so and head to my bunk. We fly together tomorrow, and I want to be ready to strike down whatever scum we are sent against.”

“Agreed,” she replied simply, “I shall be doing the same in short order.”

“I also need to check over the tech’s work on my TIE. He promised me a video of his maintenance, if only to stop me from watching him do the work myself.”

That was interesting, but then, as the pilot of the starfighter in question she supposed she could understand his desire to make absolutely sure it was up to par with regulations. She herself trusted the mechanics to do their jobs, but with certain individuals not giving the Darkest Night the best of first impressions…

Hm. Perhaps I may have to keep an eye on the mechanics and engineers too, just to make sure they are nothing like Johnson.

“Officer Deatar, if I may excuse myself. I shall wish you a good night, and happy hunting tomorrow.”

She inclined her head in return, “Same to you, Officer Kya. Rest well.”

~Pilot Quarters, Darkest Night~

With that she began to move sharply to where her own bunk in their quarters was positioned and got herself ready for sleep. She was dressed, bathed, and ready to turn in almost no time at all. The only thing she did to draw out the order of rest was to allow herself one last moment of simulation.

Meditation to the outside observer.

She didn’t care whom was doing what as they prepared (with only a slight sense of appreciation for those already sleeping and cool acceptance for those reading), Saraali barely even registered Major Pérez’s presence in their kitchen area.

She was there, in the cockpit of her mind, this time practicing more simple maneuvers but nevertheless practiced for perfection. No dogfighting, but there was still a complexity and beauty to the art of simply just flying.

Her hands were on the controls, she was well situated in her seat, all was accounted for. Her feet were on the pedals, her eyes scanning all about the space orbiting above some generalized planet or another. That detail was of no concern at this time.

In her mind, she tilted to the right and she could almost feel the sensations in her hand as if it were real. Her feet moving in synch with the rest of her body as she accelerated into a hastened patrol.

“Late night, Flying Officer Johnson?”

She showed no emotion, but internally frowned almost disrupting the simulation. Block it out, block it out…And she was fully immersed again as her TIE found itself cruising swiftly underneath the bow of the Star Destroyer.

“Just out with some buddies from B shift, maintenance, sir.”

Fool. Back to flying.

“I see. You better get some shut eye. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

“Yes, sir,” The idiot devolved into some muttering she was thankful not to hear though she caught the very end, “What I would do for some real action around here, aside from doing…nothing.”

Thoughts like that were often drummed up by the reckless and usually incompetent ones. Thoughts like that were often from the ones who got killed. Careful what one wishes for, or something to that effect.

Her meditation now broken, Saraali allowed herself a little sigh as well before quietly lying down and focusing on simply falling asleep. It took a few minutes, but not too long.

Tomorrow would be a busy day.

Tag: Officer Turr Kya, Major Hector Pérez, Officer Rick Johnson, & Other Squadmates
@Sinrebirth @Bravo

 

IC: Trooper Matth'set'peteravrevma (Peter Streets --- DW-418122; "Eyes")
Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night, high orbit over Javin


"Lieutenant," Streets spoke softly (yet his voice carried), walking up from behind the officer by roughly 10 yards to the rear; the sniper had his scout trooper armor on, yet his helmet was in between his right elbow and torso and he lacked his heavier sniper rifle, instead equipped with only his ankle holstered EC-17 hold-out blaster.

After she turned around and he had caught up to her, Streets added, "Ma'am, Second Squad been pulled into security to cover for overworked Imperial Navy Trooper ranks," he paused and looked around, noting only a mouse droid in the far distance down the otherwise deserted corridor, "Word travels that the Master Sergeant is down with a cough, so it'll be just us. I took my time trying to find you, ma'am---per that cough. So we're on a tight schedule and the Security Office has a special assignment for us. I can wait here, ma'am, while you armor up."


TAG @TheSilentInfluence

 

OOG: The below post is a continuation of the following storyline:

• Sep 26, 2019
  
• Sep 26, 2019 (not same post from above date)
  • Replace with: Oct 4, 2019
• Sep 27, 2019
  • Replace with: Oct 4, 2019
• Sep 30, 2019
  • Replace with: Oct 7, 2019
• Oct 8, 2019
  
• Nov 3, 2019

******************************************************************


IC: Lord Alic Tarfa
Landing at Seat of Government Complex & Administrative Building, Jod City, Capital World


Tarfa looked out the cockpit of the Delta-class JV-7 Escort Shuttle and smiled warmly as the shuttle eased in towards the Central Landing Pad, which was deliberately emptied over the course of several hours earlier from various shuttles & transports for his arrival.

"Good," Tarfa said as the small specs down below formalized into more properly humanoid looking Jod, "He didn't give away the capital world. ***"

As the landing struts rested into place, Tarfa was already waiting at the top of the ramp as it lowered, an honor guard of 18 Infantryman (9 per side) flanked the landing ramp in a straight line to either side, their LR-Model 2 Blaster Rifles rested with butt of the rifle to their right foot of their shoulder-width apart stance and the long barrel of the LR-Model 2 pointed out at an angle off to the right; their left hand was behind their backs, while their right hand gripped the barrel of the blaster rifle.

At the back of that line and roughly 5 yards deep was a gentlemen waiting, as well as a woman. Behind them by another 5 yards and spaced to either extreme of the two was a pair of Aristocratic High Guard, equipped with their electrostaff (but no scutum shield). While Tarfa was expecting the honor guard, the gentleman, and the two High Guards, the presence of the woman whom---as he could see wore a white tech coat over an otherwise perfectly reasonable civilian dress of someone attached to the Jod Military Sciences---was a surprise, but one he wouldn't let cross his face as his feet touched the landing pad and he crossed the distance through the honor guard to the gentleman, whom he shared a handshake with.

Lord Gaetano Ferrari greeted his boss warmly, "Welcome home, Director," Ferrari said, adding as he noticed the mark across the man's face and his face furrowed with concern, "A run-in with the locals, Alic?"

Alic ran a hand across the mark that King Alex had given him 3 days earlier with his ring as he slapped him; the director decided against informing his second of the actual events and instead smiled, "A reminder," Alic simply replied, implying with his tone and facial expression to leave the subject alone, which Ferrari did.

"Time heals," the lord replied and adjusted his stance to include the woman behind him as he extended a hand towards her, "Director, I want you to meet----"

"Miss Shawn," Alic interrupted him, taking a step forward to extend a hand towards the shorter (5'5) blond hair, blue eyed & athletically fit, mid-forties woman, "Business or pleasure?"

"Business," Miss Shawn replied, shaking Alic's hand, then adding, "Always business, Director. And its Naval Captain, Commander Grade Shawn."

Alic smiled, "I see that my recommendation to the Navy Reserve Force reached the right ears."

"My performance, director, not your recommendation. The Navy promotes based on skill, not favors."

"Depends who you talk to, depends on that answer," Alic replied with a knowing smile.

Ferrari coughed, drawing each of their attention, "So, ah, I see we know each other," he said nervously.

"Unfortunately," Shawn replied.

"Well," Alic added with a sigh, "If it wasn't important, they wouldn't of sent you," he looked to Ferrari, "You couldn't of alerted me?"

"It was last minute, director," Ferrari replied.

"I surprised him," Shawn replied, adding with a smile of victory, "As he was walking out here."

"You surprise a lot of people," Alic replied dryly, then added, "Inside, shall we?"


TBC
OOG:

*** Babylon 5 reference

 

IC: Lord Alic Tarfa
Nearing Mountville, Central District (Administrative District), Capital World


The cold and colorful autumn season hadn't yet given way to the frigid winds and desolate landscape that the Bastion Mountains had become known for in recent years. Here, as the steam locomotive struggled up the mountainside, the colorful landscape was a reminder of one of the most romanticized places in the Central District and one that was also the envy of all in the Big Ten Regions on the Capital World: Mountville. Mountville was a place of iconic beauty and, as many would say, the heart of what it meant to be a Jod.

"Who was she?" Lord Gaetano Ferrari asked, while the two sat in the passenger car. Aside from a handful of spaced out citizens, nothing was unusual about the arrangement, other then the HRI Home Guard agent who sat quietly a few seats away and on the opposite side of the train car, pretending to read the local newspaper. He was their armed escort, but one who was to keep a low profile; Ferrari had been against such tactics, utilizing the civilian network to move about as Tarfa preferred to do. Besides putting civilians at risk (if they were attacked), there was the increased risk of being open to attack without a secured transportation route, the increased risk of civilians, unauthorized persons, and spies hearing their conversations, and the added delay in travel. Ferrari was a fan of utilizing the Military Office of Civil Government Assistance, which was what it was there for, because of all of those reasons. But, Tarfa had always countered his views with it was always better to know the environment and people on a personal level, then to simply fly over them, and he would always added that---for a spy---it was essential for such interactions with the people in order to understand the constantly changing world & universe around them. As far as Ferrari was concerned, that's why you had agents to do that work and report back to you; but Tarfa was old school and too hands on for his own good.

When it was his time to take over command of the House of Royal Intelligence, Ferrari would ensure that he utilized the MOG to its fullest capabilities and use the agents they had to do the job they were supposed to do: gathering intelligence on the ground, freeing up management to focus, as Ferrari would say, more important matters. Until then, however, he was loyal to Tarfa, even to his own death.

"For someone as skilled as you," Tarfa cited his protégé as he looked out the window at the landscape, "Your question shows a great lack of understanding," Tarfa turned to face Ferrari across from him, "I'm disappointed, Gaetano."

The rebuke hurt and his face must have shown a wrinkle of his own disappointment in himself (even though he was known as a man who could shield his emotions very well from all), as he looked away in shame. "I'm sorry, Director."

"You should be," Tarfa cited his Second Officer of Royal Intelligence as he turned back to the window and the beauty outside, "I have trained you, shown you, and cautioned you despite your impulses to be mindful of everything. To known everything and know everyone. There is no excuse for a person in my position or yours to not be expected of such minimal requirements. I will not retire, Gaetano, until I am confident in your ability to master these things."

"Yes, director," Ferrari replied, looking at the man who looked out the window still.

"When you appreciate why I take these long train rides---that I learn much more by listening, seeing, and reading within the populace, then I do simply flying over them and reading reports----then I may be inclined to give thought to the hope that you may be learning something from me. Until then, however, I will expect you to find out who that young lady was. I will not tell you. This is where we will begin, from the start, again."

"Excuse me, Lord Tarfa?" Ferrari replied, shocked at what he had just heard.

Tarfa looked coldly at his protégé and raised an eyebrow, "You disagree, Lord Ferrari?"

Ferrari shook his head, "No---no, sir, I don't. Just disappointed in myself."

"As you should be. And as am I," Tarfa replied as he turned his attention back to the mountains, now seeing the distant train station in between Mountville and a castle as the train started leveling out from the climb up the mountain towards a flatter area where they would stop, "But I will remain true to the words I spoke and we will begin for another three years until I consider retirement again. Word by word, action by action, lesson by lesson will be repeated," Tarfa sighed, "Maybe Lord Smith will be a better example to you than I on the expectations of our profession."

"Lord Smith?" Ferrari asked, confused as to the meeting.

As the train came to a stop, Tarfa straightened his clothes after he got up, "If Miss Shawn's information is to be believed, then the Foreign Diplomatic Office & Services Agency will have information that is vital to me. And Lord Smith and his family have a rich history of serving both the HRI and DIDA. Such relationships come with networks and information outside of normal channels. And while I am confident in my own sources and channels of communication, Lord Smith's specialty is the Outside Galaxy. And a specialty that we will need to rely upon in this circumstance."

As Tarfa and Ferrari departed the train, the HRI Home Guard kept to the back of the departing crown from the train, ensuring he was close enough to intervene, but far away enough as to draw attention as a bodyguard.



TBC

 

IC: Flying Officer Rick Johnson
Pilot Quarters, Darkest Night, orbit around planet of Javin


Rick's eyes opened.

To darkness.

He looked around, noting the quietness of the quarters. He looked upwards and to the corner of the bunk bed frame, where he had placed a small digital clock.

23:12 hours.

He groaned silently. He still had 48 minutes until Midnight and 18 minutes until the alarms went off for the quarters. Regardless of time, there was no point in arguing over 18 minutes with the galaxy. Its not like it or anyone in it was going to listen. Sighing and rubbing his eyes, Johnson went about his routine of getting ready. It wasn't long before others started waking up, either in similar fashion or because their alarms told them to.


***********

TIE Pilot Ready Room


Johnson had a smile on his face as he settled into the soft bedding of his bunk bed in the Pod. While on the top bunk here, he wouldn't complain.

"Well," he said with a yawn as he was stuffed into the little bunk with his flight suit on, his harness & helmet beside his bunk on the floor, "Not as comfortable as my quarters bunk, but it'll do. Night gents and ladies!"

Keth Dotch shook his head as he sat at the community table, a warm cup of coffee before his face as he sipped on the warm liquid, "We can only hope, Flying Officer, you can fight as well as you can sleep."

"I can, Captain!" Johnson replied from the bunk, "You've seen my skills!"

"Training and combat are two different subjects, Flying Officer."

"Thanks...." Johnson replied, his ego and pride sounding defeated.

"You'll get that first shot in anger, Johnson," Keth replied, "I promise you."

"Yeah," Johnson replied, sounding even more defeated now, "At this rate, it'll be ten years. Getting some shut eye!"

Keth sighed from the table, shaking his head. He understood the young pilot's desire to prove himself, but he also understood the realities of an empire as big as the Galactic Empire: there may well be a chance Johnson never saw that shot fired in anger. He knew a few guys, even some army grunts, who never got that angry shot. But the captain had to keep the man's spirits up. It would come...some day.

Maybe.

The pod was shared jointly with the rest of Third Flight. For the next---Keth checked his watch---9 hours, twenty minutes, and thirty-three seconds, they would be stuck (most likely) on an boring assignment. This wasn't his first trip doing this, so he quietly sipped his coffee, waiting.

It was strange, then, when he felt the sudden push of the engines as the star destroyer started moving about ten minutes later.

"Strange," he muttered to himself as he listened softly, not hearing any notifications put out on loud speaker or, when he checked his comlink, any alerts to a similar affect. He waited a few minutes, wondering if it was a slight orbital adjustment (which would make sense), but when the star destroyer's engines kept pushing harder & harder and seemingly gaining speed, he knew something was up. He could understand the lack of notification if it was just an orbital adjustment; but it was Imperial protocol to address the crew if the starship was breaking orbit completely for a new posting outside their immediate operational zone. When he felt the sudden jump into hyperspace several minutes later, he really knew something was up---it was one thing to miss an overhead announcement throughout the ship, it was something completely different to blow the overhead announcement, the comlink alert, and even skip a technician running to tell the TIE scramble unit that they were changing postings (which would be expected, since they were the first line of defense and a easily deployed picket line to possible threats).

There was one exception to Imperial protocol on a post change....and it didn't sit well with the TIE Pilot: needed military secrecy.

Something was indeed going on.



TAG @Darth_Elu , @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Flying Officer Rick Johnson & Captain Keth Dotch
TIE Pilot Ready Room, Darkest Night, hyperspace


"Sir? Standard protocol states we should be updated as to a deployment... is this... standard protocol aboard the Darkest Night?"

"No," Keth replied, shaking his head as he threw his head back and finished the rest of his coffee, putting the mug down, "We're breaking protocol."

Keth stood up and turned around to activate the Pod-to-Pod intercom device on the wall and grabbed the corded comlink device that popped out of its holder device and keyed it, "Major," Keth spoke, the commanding officer's voice on the other end answering, "Yes, sir, its Dotch. What are---" there were more words that couldn't be clearly heard over the distance, but Keth was nodding to every word, "Yes, sir. Understood, Major," there were more words from Major Héctor Pérez, then Keth finishing with, "Yes, sir. Crystal clear, sir. Dotch out."

Keth keyed the comlink off and stared at it a long moment before sighing and returning it to the wall device and turning around to see the rest of the Pod, "Gather around the table. Everyone. And will someone get Johnson up? His snoring is annoying."


TAG @Sinrebirth , @Darth_Elu

 

IC: Elena Shan
Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night, high orbit over Javin

Elena turned around when she heard Eyes address her, and started to talk to her about being security for the overworked Imperial Navy ranks. She smiled a little, happy to finally have something to do and nodded at Eyes after he finished talking. "Alright. Thanks for letting me know eyes." She thought about Animal for a minute, and was glad his hangover was being was being covered up for now. "I'll go grab my armour." She turned and walked back into the barracks, grabbed her gear and went into the fresher to change. It was a little hard, because of her one arm being covered up from her previous injury, and she winched as she finally managed to get everything on. Elena grabbed her blaster pistol, which would be the only thing she would be able to effectively shoot and put her helmet under her arm as she walked back out to where Eyes was waiting.

"Let's go and see what they want us to do." Elena told Eyes quietly. She motioned her head. "Lead the way." She told him with a slight motion of her head. "I'll be right beside you."

Tag: @Bravo @TheAdmiral

 

IC: Natalia Markova
Darkest Night

Her eyes swept over the room, quickly taking in all that surrounded her. A touch screen was along the the wall, it would be simple for her to slice into and get whatever information was held within. However in her one interaction with the man running the investigation, he wasn't one to use technology. There could be information on there but, it wouldn't be anything useful. She would have to get through the door. A code pad was simple enough for her datapad to get through but a hand scanner was a different issue. A thought came to her, a small hope. Looking around the room she searched for something that could create some dust. Under the conference table was something that could do, and expected of a man like Richter, a pencil. An old outdated writing implement, but it would suit her needs. Finding a sheet of flimsiplast she used her finger nails to separate the shell around the graphite core. Exposing the gunmetal grey center of the pencil the quick thinking slicer removed her belt using the edge of the buckle to start shaving off the solid core of carbon. She worked as fast as her hands could move getting a nice pile of carbon dust on the sheet of flimsi.

Once she had enough she gingerly folded the sheet to hold the collected dust in and brought it to the the handscanner. This was a long shot but it was all she could think of. Turning her head away she took a deep breath and let it out over the mound of carbon dust spreading it over the plate of the scanner hoping that whoever used it last failed to wipe it down, and that the carbon dust would stick to the oils left behind. If this worked the code lock would be nothing...

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: Winterkill
Hunk of Junk

He was hunched over and placed a steadying hand on his head. The nagai chuckled dryly at Palso.

“Blow out my brains….?” He scoffed aloud.

’So why didn’t you?’ He thought somberly.

Did the gunslinger even realize that doing so would have put a quick end to their presumed ’importance’ in regards to whatever fool’s quest they were in? Billy would have every right to space them like useless junk and keep the ship as a memento, if that were the case. Thankfully, it was not.

Failure at Blaster Speed.

It did have an amusing ring to it, just like a holo-novel.

It was no surprise that the space ninja shadowed the cabin’s doorway while peering in. Winterkill ignored him as he began to rise and compose himself. His ‘episode’ was passing and he felt more or less collected enough to speak with his ‘trigger happy’ friend. Anything to get his mind off what had been said before. As expected, Palso did not disappoint.

Winterkill nodded in honest acceptance of Jim’s apology. They were professionals and there were no hard feelings between them. They had been through too much together and saved each others lives more times than they could count. No matter the circumstance, they were stuck with each other.

For better or for worse. Not unlike now.

Winterkill’s expression remained unreadable as he listened to Palso work things out in his own mind as he spoke aloud. It became clear that he took this prophecy seriously.

This part of the job was above the nagai’s pay grade. He was much more efficient at dealing with more mundane matters.

He watched and listened, just in case Jim needed something repeated back to him verbatim, but that didn’t seem to be the case, as the gunslinger appeared to uncover something hidden in the prose.

“Well Sith!”

Winterkill knew what that meant. He followed Palso out and saw the already injured man was about to get himself maimed or killed by picking a fight with the space ninja. Maybe they could still be useful for whatever, even if parts of them were missing?

Of course, Winterkill tensed and was ready to jump in, but the space ninja simply stepped to one side, quite unexpectedly. Winterkill eyed him with great suspicion, but nothing came of it.

Very strange.

The nagai followed, but did not let his guard down. He didn't trust these people. With good reason.

Next they ran into ‘walking Library’ and true to form….

“Get us out of hyperspace!” Jim blurted.

“NOW!” he demanded when the droid began to protest.

Protesting droids. That was always a warning sign.

In a blink of an eye, Palso reached the ship controls and lurched them out of hyperspace.

“TAKE THE SHIP!”

Winterkill had to rely on his reflexes and acrobatic techniques in order to keep himself from being plastered against the ship’s bulkhead. Palso had collided with the droid, but the nagai was already rebounding off a wall, careening towards the space ninja, fully intent on kicking him full force on his back with both feet.



Tag: @Bravo, @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Sergeant First Class Adrias Stark
Army Quarters (Joker Platoon), Darkest Night, leaving low orbit over Javin to high orbit

Adrias bit back a retort Yeah, yeah, mom, I get it… he was still cranky from the interrupted… meeting, yes, it was simply a meeting with the Lt. but duty usually calls at most inconvenient times.

********************

He got ready pretty quickly and headed towards the area where he had been told. Adrias had to consult his helmet HUD for the directions, after all a Star Destroyer was a flying city and it was easy to get lost. He had never done such inspections as he usually had been stationed planetside, but it sounded straightforward enough.

Face and JC were already waiting for him, so he just nodded a greeting to both of them. He listened to the instruction and did not like the idea of being crushed in this place, but that was part of the job. “Lead the way then.” he tried to sound jovial enough.

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: Trooper Matth'set'peteravrevma (Peter Streets --- DW-418122; "Eyes")
Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night, high orbit over Javin


"Let's go and see what they want us to do." Elena told Eyes quietly. She motioned her head. "Lead the way." She told him with a slight motion of her head. "I'll be right beside you."

The chiss nodded, "As ordered, ma'am," he put his helmet on and was off; the two walked in silence for some time, before the blue skinned humanoid broke that silence, "How are your injuries doing, Lieutenant?"

The pair stopped at a turbolift, waiting for its services, as were about a half dozen other crew members.


TAG @TheSilentInfluence

 

IC: Elena Shan
Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night, high orbit over Javin

Elena followed Eyes, following suit as he put on his helmet and putting on her helmet as well. It was a little awkward with one hand, and Elena hoped she didn't look foolish.

She tilted her head at his question before she spoke, "I think I'm lucky I didn't lose the arm." Elena told him before she laughed a little. "I'm doing better now that it's all wrapped up Eyes. Hopefully I'll be back to normal in a week." She paused. "How are you feeling Eyes; about what happened? You can speak freely. This is just between us."

Tag: @Bravo

 

IC: Unit Command Office---main access via attached Naval Conference Room (Unit)
Level 15, Darkest Night, high orbit over planet of Javin (Imperial port)


The hand scanner blinked red---then green---stuttering between a decision to accept the forged finger print. It blinked red, then green, again in as many moments and then a solid stayed green. The access to the door pad was easier for the thief and soon the door opened, showcasing a very sparsely decorated office. Only the bare bones was in the office, with a simple Clone Wars-era photo on the work desk of the now Imperial security chief (it showed him and three gray uniformed bridge officer clones---he had served with aboard a starship during the final year of the war---all standing for the photo in front of the bridge windows while in hyperspace). No other items to explain his personal pursuits. Like Gotz Richter's mind, the new Chief of Security's office was structured, effective, and did away with any non-essential items or tasks.

Although there was a green plant in the corner by the desk.

Despite the back wall behind his desk still showcasing a computer across the wall, under the desk proper were three locked filing cabinets still utilizing old paper records. The locks looked simple enough, simple key locks. Nothing too complicated.

But, something was off about the office. Its darkened interior had only the back wall computer controls and viewport to the left allowing any light, one from technology and the other from the bright distant stars.

Something was lurking in the darkened office. Or, at the very least, in there and making sure itself was not seen. But the office was too quiet. Too dark. Too...

Perfect.

It was the perfect environment. The question was---as the steady standby power remained steady, only to be alerted to full activity by motion within the room---would the lurking Moon Moth Espionage Droid be noticed? It hid in the green plant well, its programming being simple enough: do not stop any intruder, simply deposit its "eggs" as tracking beacons onto targets. Gotz would follow-up accordingly.


TAG @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Trooper Matth'set'peteravrevma (Peter Streets --- DW-418122; "Eyes")
Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night, high orbit over Javin


She tilted her head at his question before she spoke, "I think I'm lucky I didn't lose the arm." Elena told him before she laughed a little. "I'm doing better now that it's all wrapped up Eyes. Hopefully I'll be back to normal in a week."

"Good," the sniper replied, as they followed the crew members onto the turbolift. Luckily, their helmet-to-helmet communications were secured and the outside world couldn't hear them; to the others sharing the lift with them, the two stormtroopers were quiet. As the lift started moving, Eyes added, "I find it ironic that for the best soldiers in the galaxy, their forcing us to cover security rotations---even forcing our wounded into duty. If anyone else with the Navy Troopers so much as got a paper cut, they'd be out for a week with benefits. Your people still confuse me, even after being among them for two years."

"How are you feeling Eyes; about what happened? You can speak freely. This is just between us."

"About Javin?" Eyes shrugged as the turbolift came to a stop and some of the crew members pressed passed them to exit. The doors closed with only two crew members remaining and the two stormtroopers as the lift continued, "It is what it is. The enemy we engaged were cowards. But such tactics should be expected by the lawless. How about you, Lieutenant? What are your feelings are the subject?"


TAG @TheSilentInfluence

 

IC: Elena Shan
Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night, high orbit over Javin

"It must have been hard, to leave your home." Elena said after Eyes told her about his confusion about the situation at hand. She shifted to the side as one of the others sharing the turbolift got a little too close for her comfort, even if it was a little ways away from her. "I imagine the Empire is a vast change." She paused for a moment, thinking for a moment that it was strange at least, out here; for the Empire to send wounded back into the line of work so quickly. "Even if we don't agree with the Empire sending wounded into possible combat situations, this is pretty low risk." Elena told him. "It's not like were on the front lines." She frowned. "And the Imperial Navy still has strick regulations even if we don't see it. My brother is a TIE pilot over on Dantooine."

As Eyes turned the conversation to Javin, she nodded along as he spoke. He was right of course, they were cowards to engage that way. She thought for a moment at his question and shook of any shakiness that was starting to creep up on her. It had been frightening, but she didn't want to show it. Instead Elena focused on the turbolift doors. "I didn't know if I was going to make it out of there alive." Elena admitted. "There was so much confusion. I guess it's a good lesson for us all to be vigilant though." Elena let out a sharp sigh. "I will say though, Joker Platoon handles themselves really well. I'm really glad I got re-assigned here." Elena told Eyes honestly. "I was getting a little tired of sitting around Courscant all the time."

Tag: @Bravo

 

IC: Staff Sergeant Rusty Oak
Outside GenMess One, Entertainment Deck, Darkest Night, High Orbit over planet of Javin


"And that's it?" Staff Sergeant Rusty Oak said, looking up from his data-pad; the Imperial Navy Trooper had had a long night thus far and this was just adding to it.

The cook, known as Cook CDN-23-1, nodded nervously, "Yes, Sergeant, that's all. I promise."

Oak sighed vocally as he scratched his head in frustration (his helmet was off and hooked to his belt). If it wasn't bar fights with stormtroopers, it was this. He knew the truth, that the droid---KX-0N---had finally been beaten at his own game. Sure, Jingle may be out some steaks---that wasn't Oak's problem. His problem right now was dealing with a bunch of egotistical stormtroopers who thought they could do his job better than him. He had already written up one pair of stormtroopers down in engineering for superseding orders earlier in the evening from the Security Office. They threatened to go to Brigadier General Alexey Vasiliev and complain (he had dared them to). So far, Vasiliev hadn't connected with Oak's comlink, which told him everything he needed to know.

The Staff Sergeant nodded as he looked up, "Alright Fred. Get out of here. But," he held up a finger, "If I hear anything more about this dancing business, I'm sending you up to medical for a full evaluation. You get me?"

The cook nodded, "A course Staff Sergeant! Thank you!"

After the cook ran off, Oak finished a few more notes on his data-pad, then turned around to Staff Sergeant George Ito. The Imperial Navy Trooper veteran was chuckling quietly with his arms crossed over his chest. He shook his head. "The stuff we get paid to deal with," George looked up, "What do you want me to tell the droid?"

Rusty shrugged, "Something. Anything. I just want to get some sleep. I'll let Jingle know we're giving the droid the fast one to get through the night. I'll buy him a box of Corellian Whiskey and he'll happily forget about it."

"You got it boss," George said, giving the man a play saltue.

"Hey, you're senior here," Oak reminded him.

George looked at his watch and smiled, "One month, fourteen days, three hours, 21 minutes, and---forty-two seconds, I'll be retired. I'm just doing what I'm told, young stuff."

Oak chuckled, "I'll swap with you. I retire and you stay in."

"In your dreams, kid! In your dreams!" George said as he smiled and entered the kitchen.


****************


"Look Kitch-on," George said from across the serving counter, putting his hands up half way to try to calm down the droid, "Whether you want to believe it or not, I'm telling you that those steaks were not stolen by Cook CDN-23-1. His story matches to yours and we have no eviudence to say anything opposite. So what if he likes to dance? Maybe he was just blowing off some steam---everyone has been stressed since Javin, so organics---not droids---will act differently under stress. And further, we don't have reason to believe he would have any motive to spend the next month in the brig. And while the security footage would be helpful," he pointed up to the camera in the ceiling overlooking the freezer's entrance, which was blocked by someone's birthday balloon from a few days ago, "Someone left a pink balloon in front of it and we couldn't get a clear shot over the last twenty-four hours. So I don't have the evidence to say he did or didn't do it. Now, we can contact Jingle and we'll let him know. But..."

George shook his head as he put his helmet back on and strapped it, "...I think you need to review your security protocols. Because whoever did this, they're a smooth criminal and as far as the Security Office is concerned, case is closed without further evidence. We don't have the resources to pursue this matter any further," the Imperial Navy Trooper smiled, "Now, is there anything else we can help you with, Kitch-on?"


TAG @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Aiden Gray
Darkest Night
Holo Theater

It was never a good sign when the personnel that needed to be attending to an emergency were moving slowly, deliberately, methodically and standing to the side. The mood was grim as he looked back at Tech and Business.

"Let's check it out," Aiden ordered.

He flicked a switch on his blaster rifle and the small flashlight built into the muzzle illuminated. Cautiously, slowly, he poked his head into the holo theater and immediately stepped back. He wanted to retch in his helmet.

Graphic was an understatement Aiden thought as he turned to brief the others.

"Make sure your scrubbers are working," Aiden said, "because you're gonna need them. Whatever you do don't disturb the scene. I need your eyes, you two, because this smells of foul play."

Aiden breathed heavily and entered the holo theater again. He wanted to leave the minute he stepped into the room. It was all too much.

Get a hold of yourself Aiden thought as he pushed aside his growing unease.

Tag: @Bravo (sorry for delay in responding I think I wasn't signaled I had a post ready for me!)

 

IC: Lance Corporal Falen Duryn (DW-418177)
Corridors, Darkest Night, High Orbit of Javin

Falen made his way through the labyrinth of corridors with an easy-going smile on his face. Somehow, he had made it out of the Kitchen unscathed, if the lack of alarm klaxons were to be believed. A few passing crew gave him some odd looks because of the bundle of aprons he was carrying, but nothing more than a raise of the eyebrow. It would seem everyone had better things to worry about than a lone stormtrooper walking about in his Class A's.

A reality Falen was more than happy to accept.

Now, all he had to do was deliver the packages to Pack and Sandy, change into his Scout Trooper armor, all in time for the barrack inspection. Falen allowed himself a merry chuckle as he turned another corner.

"Yeah, easy-peesy. Just gotta remember to stay clear of Mess One for a bit..." He muttered, adjusting the load in his arms a bit. "All goes well, and we can pretend these shenanigans neeeever happened.."

Turning on final corner, Falen arrived back in the same corridor where he had originally departed from. If Pack and Sandy were there, great, he could hand the steaks off at once. If not, he could stash them away somewhere for a later date.

Either way, it looked like he was finally in the clear.

Tag: @Bravo

 

Flying Officer Saraali Deatar IC:
~TIE Pilot Ready Room, Darkest Night~

Saraali woke to her alarm, gave a single small yawn, and then proceeded to get ready quietly and swiftly. From there she wordlessly made her way to the Ready Room and took a seat at the table. She could feel the rumble of the Star Destroyer’s engines, which was interesting, but did not remark. Not yet.

The woman was not one for taking such a central location in the ready room usually either, but felt it might be a wise spot for this occasion. Plus she didn’t want to be anywhere near the idiot who was still trying to nap.

She was among the people who figured it was best not interfere with the little conversation between Johnson and Captain Dotch. Though Officer Kya did decide to remark on the engines first. Saraali was content with this.

“Sir? Standard protocol states we should be updated as to a deployment…is this…standard protocol aboard the Darkest Night?”

Her eyes zeroed in on the zabrak.

“No. We’re breaking protocol.”

Interesting response. At least he confirmed this was not protocol. So what was going on? The woman folded her arms and continued to wait. With that reply, she was certain another explanation would have to be forthcoming soon enough.

Indeed, there went the Captain to call the Major and figure out what was going on. When he was finished, she could feel the palpable uncertainty coming off of him. Busy day, hadn’t they said? Something big was going on after all.

“Gather around the table. Everyone. And will someone get Johnson up? His snoring is annoying.”

Sighing, she stood from her chair with a warning glance that dared anyone to take it from her in the small amount of time she was away from it, then crossed over to the ladder that helped her up to the top bunk the idiot was in.

Well, she had been asked to get him up. And it was urgent. Soooo….

She slapped the man on the side of his face with a backhand. She didn’t do it hard, no reason to…but she may not have done it too gently either. Had to make sure he was awake and all. Almost immediately, she had let go of the ladder’s railing and let herself land on her feet, spun on her heel, and whisked away back to her seat.

Saraali would practically be just sitting down on her chair a little ways away by the time Johnson had even registered what had just occurred. She said nothing this whole time, just allowed her eyes to ask the question on everyone’s minds when she sat back down.

“What’s going on, sir?”

Tag: Officer Rick Johnson, Captain Keth Dotch, Officer Turr Kya, & Rest of Third Flight @Bravo @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Pack & Sandy / Trooper Matth'set'peteravrevma (Peter Streets --- DW-418122; "Eyes")
Corridors, Darkest Night, High Orbit over planet of Javin


"Well, well, well," Pack said, pushing himself off of the wall that he had been resting up against; he held out a hand towards Sandy, hearing a groan from the human, and the ugnaught smiled in pure victory as he felt the credits deposited into his hand. He stuffed them into his pocket as he approached the criminal-in-training known as Falen Duryn, holding out his hands as Sandy walked besides him carrying both tool boxes (their work complete in the corridor), "What did I tell ya? What did I tell ya?" The alien took a smell in of the steaks as he met the uniformed stormtrooper, "The kid's a natural!"

Sandy rolled his eyes at the alien's boasting, "You done already, Pack?"

The ugnaught grinned as he looked at his partner, "No my good buddy. I'm just getting started. Say," the alien looked back to the stormtrooper, "You know, we could use a man of your...talents. You know, some little jobs here and there. Nothing illegal, we promise! Just---"

"---Pack..." Sandy interrupted.

"---some areas that we---" Pack tried to continue.

"---Pack..." Sandy tried again, this time growing inpatient.

"---as mechanics," the alien signaled a hand between him and Sandy, "Can't get into. Like, I would sell my middle sister for a chance to fire one of those T-21 Bla---"

"---PACK!" Sandy all but barked.

The ugnaught turned around to his partner, "WHAT?" The alien replied with a bark of his own, "Can't you tell," he signaled between both him and Falen, "We are trying to discuss business? Where are your manners, good man!"

"Behind you," Sandy replied with a nod of his head.

"Behind me? My manners are not behind me, you terrible, washed up, half rotten mechanic once-upon-a-time excuse," the mechanic had had enough of Sandy and shook a finger at him, "Look human, my manners are always front and center in any conversation. You---on the other hand---need to----"

There was a clearing of a throat and the familiar---and dreadful---sound of a stormtrooper's helmet speakers, "I love steaks."


*****************

Elena let out a sharp sigh. "I will say though, Joker Platoon handles themselves really well. I'm really glad I got re-assigned here." Elena told Eyes honestly. "I was getting a little tired of sitting around Courscant all the time."

The turbolift stopped, "Here's our stop," Eyes said and the two stormtroopers departed, leaving the two crewmembers behind in the turbolift to continue its journey. The pair of stormtroopers walked a few more yards, before Eyes answered, "I hear that Coruscant is the home of your people. The humans. I have been there before, with Grand Admiral Thrawn. Although," he looked at her for a moment, studying her closely through his dark visor (seeing if he could trust her with the limited info he had provided), then turned back to looking out ahead, "That is all that I am permitted to say about my visit," there was another pause, then Eyes finished with, "As for my people, they had abandoned me on the field of battle and left me for dead. I have no feelings about them beyond my abandonment. Thrawn understood where I came from, understood the feeling of abandonment by our people. So he encouraged me to serve the Empire."

There was much more to the story than that. But that's all he would tell her.

"As for Coruscant, I find it---overcrowded. Stale. Dirty. I dislike it. It is a poor pick for a capital world. Although I guess it is so because of its central location for trade & politics within the galaxy. So it has its function, if it lacks in a welcoming appearance. I hear the postings on Coruscant are likewise underwhelming. A vacation tour I hear some troopers say. Although everyone dreads being posted to the Imperial Palace---too many troopers fear messing up in front of Lord Vader or the Emperor. So, as long as your not at the palace, its a cakewalk," he paused, then added, "I would be bored too on Coruscant. I, for one, am glad you are with us."

During a moment of pause in conversation, Eyes' helmet sensors alerted him to the first part of their Security Office assignment, "Ah, here we are," he said as the pair of stormtroopers rounded a corner and a trio of two humans and a ugnaught could be seen, "Our new sniper for Second Squad. I figure he might enjoy---and we might enjoy---all being sniper qualified and talking to each other. A course, we still have our Security Office assignment---but I figured, with your injury Lieutenant---we could use the extra help. Although technically the new guys should check in with the Old Man first," he frowned under his helmet, "These are trying times, especially with Javin recently. I figured you could swing come rank on the Old Man if needed, LT."

As the pair got closer, Eyes could see what the uniformed stormtrooper was holding, "I love steaks," Eyes said out-loud.


**********************************


Pack turned around, frozen like a ghost, to see two stormtroopers, one in normal white armor with a visible hurt arm, while the other one had scout trooper armor.

The ugnaught waved nervously with his fingers at the pair of stormtroopers, "Hi..." he said, adding, "Nothing going on here, Mr. Stormtroopers. Nothing at all."

"Guilty conscience?" Eyes asked the alien, then turned to the uniformed stormtrooper holding the steaks. He depressed a button on the helmet that lifted the face shield and opened up the helmet, "Lance Corporal Falen Duryn?"


TAG @TheSilentInfluence , @Silvertough