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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Jan 10, 2016 21:36:42 GMT -8
Gideon's Command; where there are good Imperials with a pocket full of credits, there is always a cantina waiting for them. The cantina was constructed in honor of the Empire's greatest High Colonel and most devout Imperialist, Gideon Raith. His portrait, extravagant and riddled with Imperial pomp and vigor deserving of his career, hangs at the very center of the bar area. Beneath, a gold plaque reads "In honor of one hell of a soldier! Oorah!" All within the Imperial Strategic Command take time off at the end of their shifts to have a drink or two at this cantina. Stormtroopers, officers and others mingle at the gambling tables or watch whatever sports that were shown throughout the galaxy. There was regular talk and the vibe of the place could release the stress of any bones and relax the worn spirit of any stressed person. |
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Post by Azria Delvardus on Jan 26, 2016 19:30:05 GMT -8
It was late. Azria had just finished her overtime shift. Nearly 0200, the Imperial noted as she looked down at the chronometer on her wrist. She really should have just headed back to her quarters at this point to catch at least one sleep cycle, but she found herself restless and pacing her office instead. It had been a long day overseeing the simulator training of several new crops of cadets. The Imperial had even skipped out on both of the mandatory morale sessions for the day since there was just too much work to get done. On the bright side, she had finally finished designing that new simulator protocol, so she figured she deserved a drink for that much at least.
Striding into Gideon’s Command, Azria walked with a determination in her gait and an air of authority about her. The lighting was dim, but what little remained reflected off her perfectly polished boots. Her black uniform was pristine as always and still appeared freshly pressed as if she had not spent a whole 20-hour shift in it. Her deep burgundy hair was still neatly combed back and twisted into a bun. Not a hair on her head out of place. Quietly, she takes a seat at a cushioned booth in the back and her usual glass of Corellian Reserve is placed before her. Right from her private stocks, it always seemed to be difficult to find this particular brandy, especially since someone saw fit to pilfer the crates she had been transporting on Garqi. Swirling the amber coloured liquid around in the glass, she watches the golden glow of the glass momentarily brighten as the liquid crashes against it. Azria raised the glass to her scarlet red lips to sip, feeling the keen burn on her tongue and throat – a burn that was not wholly unwelcome. She lowered the glass to the table, setting it off to the side. Crossing one slender leg over the other, she props up her holopad on the table before her and continues her work in peace.
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Jan 26, 2016 19:58:40 GMT -8
Seems like you finally inherited father's taste for liquors.
The voice came out of nowhere, since Azria seemed to not be paying attention to her surroundings. This gave the Supreme Commander just the edge he needed to walk up, unnoticed. The Imperial looks down at his red-headed little sister, who had finally left Eriadu, to join his ranks. It surprised Nicademus when he saw her name mentioned within the Imperial Special Training Corps as a recommended candidate for a Commissar's rank. He had been so busy with forming the First Order and organizing her from the ground up that Nicademus, and even their brother, Artemis, had not seen Azria sign up. Nevertheless, her appearance was most welcomed by the two brothers who had not seen their sister in many years since the pair departed Eriadu to make their own fortunes.
Nicademus slips into the booth seat across from Azria, noticing a Twi'lek waitress come up. She bows to the Supreme Commander before asking what poison he wanted. The Imperial calmly taps his chin, pondering on what the Cantina had. The credits and resources at his command ensured that this particular establishment got the best drinks for any Imperial looking to relax. He finally remembers an old drink he had back on Eriadu.
Get me... a Randoni Yellow Plague.
The waitress bows again and walks back to the bartender to put in the Supreme Commander's order. Nicademus then turns his gaze back to Azira who sat across from him. The Imperial exhales slightly for a moment, trying to remember the last time he saw his sister. She was still young and innocent back then, engaged to some bigshot from an influential and well-off Eriaduan family. Clearly he didn't come if the pair had gotten married.
Sorry I didn't come earlier to see you, Azria. Artemis and I were both very surprised but elated to know we were united once more. I wish I had come sooner, but being Supreme Commander either gets you behind a desk, situated in the battlefield, or making charismatic speeches to the public in order to stir that Imperial fervor.
... or nailing a certain female Knight of Ren in his office.
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Harnan Ren
Knights of Ren
Posts: 601
Affiliation: Knights of Ren
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Post by Harnan Ren on Jan 26, 2016 21:00:31 GMT -8
It was late, like, really late, and all that Harnan really wanted to do was sleep, but Atlantia just wouldn't leave him alone, constantly poking him to have a drink with her since they hadn't hung out in ages. Knowing she wouldn't give up, he had agreed to take her to the bar, only to end up with her mouting his shoulders as he stalked the corridors from the Tower of Ren, down to the Gideon's Command. Taking into account the late hour of night it was, Harnan merely donned his standard cloth apparel, opting against needing to wear his armour since they were just going drinking, whilst Atlantia just went sans her helmet, her strange feline tail and ears on display for all to see with her hood drawn back. It must have been one of the strangest sight in the world for any within the bar to see as the two Knights of Ren entered the bar, Atlantia's raised viewpoint giving her a good view of those within, allowing her to quickly spot Azria and NicademusLet's sit over there!Fine...As Harnan looked over to where Atlantia was pointing, he knew instantly why she had chosen that spot, and why he was going to regret it, what with it being close to the one woman he was avoiding at the moment, after the Whap Legion name had landed him a summons to her office, which eh still hadn;t gone to, and the one man he currently was on forced good terms with. Well, he wasn't going to disappoint her, and chances are, they'd likely have been spotted already, so he headed straight for one of the booths nearby, Atlantia quickly dropping off his shoulders and landing on the ground with feline grace as Harnan took a seat at the table. As he ordered A Walk in the Phelopean Forest for them to share, she quickly waved over at Nicademus and Azria, before taking a seat opposite Harnan as their drink arrived a few seconds later, the waitress dubiously looking at Atlantia, before turning and heading back to the barThis is why I wear my mask!People still think you look like a child...Shut up! You know, Azria still needs to see you...Don't you even dare...He shook his head, taking a sip of the drink before he leaned back into the seat, wondering whether any one else would be joining them this late at night
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Post by Azria Delvardus on Jan 26, 2016 21:51:17 GMT -8
And Azria should have known better to think that she would ever find peace in a place that was not her office nor quarters. A voice that she would have recognized anywhere broke her concentration and had it been anyone else, she would have growled a reply for them to leave her to her work. Instead, a small smile touched her scarlet lips as she looked up to meet the gaze of her eldest brother.
“Nicademus.” Azria sounded almost surprised as she spoke his name. It was strange as it rolled off her tongue, she thought. They had fallen out of touch for the past few years, something which she immediately regretted and now hoped to make up for all the lost time. She wondered if he had been just as surprised to find her here as she was to hear about his ambitions through the grapevine. She had always known her brothers were meant to do something remarkable in this great galaxy, but she had never imagined they would achieve it so young. “And it appears you have grown rather adventurous in your old age.” The Imperial retorted jokingly with a lopsided grin. Whether she was referring to his choice in drinks or the fact that she knew of his torrid affair with one of the Knights of Ren – it was anyone’s guess at this point. After all, Azria had filled into her role as First Commissar quite nicely and had been responsible for the psychological profiles pertaining to each Knight of Ren finding their way onto his desk. It was safe to say she had been watching the Knights with much curiosity over the past few months.
As the Supreme Commander slips into the booth across from her, Azria taps her holopad a couple more times, closing out the reports from her psytechs she had been busy reviewing. The Imperial places her holopad on the booth beside her as a frown crosses her lips. “Do not compare me to that man.” She says abruptly, slowly drawing her gaze up to meet his. Her blue eyes glinted like steel, piercing and sharp. To say her gaze had grown considerably colder was like saying that Muunilinst was yellow. Sufficient, but not accurate enough to capture the burning. She was still a bit irritated with the fact that father had tried so hard to marry her off when she would rather do something useful like she was here as the First Commissar of the First Order Special Training Corps. Azria reaches over with her left hand to pick up her glass, sipping the Corellian Reserve, a rosy glow coming to her face as she finally shifts her line of thought. It was clear there was no wedding ring on her finger, if that would be any indication to her brother that her engagement had gone south. She was not about to broach the subject with him, however, and opted to shift the conversation away from herself.
“Speaking of, where is Artemis? I expected to find him here riding your coattails.” She says in a joking manner, the smile once more returning to her face – and not just her lips either, but her whole expression. "Or at the very least, cleaning up your messes." It had been far too long since last the siblings were together. Though growing up, she had not had the extensive military careers her brothers had, instead opting to attend the Imperial University of Eriadu to study a mix of human-systems integration and intelligent systems, but they had all been co-located at the time. As the years went by, Nicademus had been the first to leave with Artemis following shortly after, which had left her alone at home with their parents. Obtaining the education she had was finally paying off, however. No longer was she the young and innocent girl that Nicademus once knew, that much was clear with the briefest of glances at her. “I understand, Nicademus.” The Imperial said as she took another sip of her brandy before placing it on the table next to her. “My own schedule has not exactly been conducive to our meeting any earlier, either…” She pauses a moment and looks up at him, “I am sorry that I did not tell you I was enlisting, but I wanted to do something for once without the stigma of our family’s standing attached to it nor the weight your rank carries. I wanted to get here on my own merit.” Azria states proudly as she looks to him with a small smile. "So, surprise...?"
Reclining back in the booth, she begins absent-mindedly drumming her fingers on the table as she awaits Nicademus’ response. Only when a hint of motion catches her eye does the Imperial look over her eldest brother’s shoulder. As Atlantia waves at her, Azria merely inclines her head the slightest of an inch, otherwise stoically observing the scene before her. Her eyes are briefly drawn to Harnan. Never before had she seen him without his mask in the flesh, only through some holofootage she had obtained from their mission on Deralia. That was where she had also learned her devious brother had stolen the woman that the Knight of Ren had been lusting after. It was a bold move, for sure. Though, she was not certain yet whether it was without its consequences. Harnan had more than deserved her ire, however, and she was glad her brother was at least making him suffer. Perverting the training she had instilled in the elite corps of soldiers the First Order had opted to loan him. The Whap Legion, he called them. If Azria had her way, they would all be recommended for disciplinary action and reprogramming courses. The thought of attempting to utilize her training methods on a Knight of Ren had always amused her as she wondered how vulnerable they might be to her conditioning. Apparently it worked on Jedi, though. While she knew full well that Harnan had been dodging her summons all week, she decided that now was not the time for work. Narrowing her eyes at him, she swallows her irritation and returns her attention to the conversation with Nicademus.
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Jan 28, 2016 19:13:48 GMT -8
Nicademus noticed the wave given by Azria, making him glance behind where he sat. He took notice of a female accompanying the familiar appearance of Harnan. It seemed the Knights of Ren used this cantina as well, not that they weren't allowed to. It was a surprise to the Supreme Commander, seeing one of the Ren relax in such an atmosphere or come to get a drink. He usually thought, that as force users, they would want to meditate or train, but they were mortal just as anyone else among the ranks of the First Order. And when the call for a drink was made by their mind, anyone would be drawn to the bars and entertainment paid for and constructed by the orders of the Supreme Commander. As he turned away from Harnan, his eyes noticed all sorts of characters here now... Imperial Knights in off-duty clothing, officers in their uniforms, Stormtroopers in military fatigues. All persons were allowed and welcomed here, something that Nicademus hoped that everyone knew.
His gaze would break away when the waitress brought him his drink, a Randoni Yellow Plague. It was a chilled and strong drink; first time consumers were recommended to stay away from it. Thankfully, this wasn't Nicademus' first drink nor would it be his last. His gloved hand picks up the glass, moving the contents slightly to stir up anything that settled. His nose took a good sniff of the liquor before the Supreme Commander took a good swig of it. He sets it down firmly before looking at Azria.
Artemis looks after his own messes. I can clean up my own, besides I got plenty more people to do that for me now besides just our brother. As for where Artemis is, as General of the Imperial 9th Army, he is probably stuck at his desk in the North Wing, seventh floor. He has been bogged down with logistic work and replacements for various units in light of our recent incursions into the Unknown Region.
Nicademus picks up his drink once more, taking another good swig before glancing around the cantina some more. Some new people walked in, from their decal, they were a part of the repair crews from the basement levels and military garages. Most likely just got off shift and needed a good drink and entertainment to wash away the day's work. The Supreme Commander taps his glass lightly for a moment, before his eyes returned to his younger sister. First Commissar of the Imperial Special Training Corps, studied human-systems integration and intelligence systems at the Imperial University of Eriadu. Yet, ended up with a military career in the end.
I never asked since we last saw each other. How did things go down with you and your fiance? What was his name... something Motti?
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Harnan Ren
Knights of Ren
Posts: 601
Affiliation: Knights of Ren
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Post by Harnan Ren on Jan 30, 2016 3:46:14 GMT -8
Atlantia sat looking at him for a moment as he told her not to even dare force that meeting in this setting, as she too took a sip from their drink, before leaning back into the seat as she got a sudden itch. Harnan turned his attention to the strange feline humanoid girl before him, as she started to fidget about, her inner trouble maker starting to come to the surface now that she was away from the battlefield, and in a much more homely situation. It was then, that Atlantia jumped out of her seat, giving a wink to Harnan as she did so, before rushing over to the booth where Nicademus and Azria were seated, quickly jumping in besides the Supreme Commander, interrupting the conversation that had been in progress
So, how is my favourite First Commissarial ass doing? Speaking of asses, I hear Harnan has been being a bit of one to you, by avoiding you...
Harnan almost immediately regretted having agreed to come out for this drink with Atlantia as she inserted herself into the conversation between Azria and Nicademus, before stiring up trouble for him. Picking up his drink, he got up from the table, knowing that Atlantia was not going to leave things well enough alone, as he gave a nod to the Delvardus siblings. Unlike Atlantia, he had no intention of being rude, or making his somewhat strained relationship with the First Commander and the First Commissar any worse by being rude and just taking a seat first
I do hope you don't mind the sudden invasion...
He cut himself short, knowing that he was about to make a comment about her ass, and it would not end well, especially since he had just decided he didn't want to make things worse. But that didn't mean he was just going to bow down to either one of them, because there was a right way of annoying people, and there was a wrong way of annoying people. And maybe it was the slightest of buzzes he was getting from the alcohol in him, but as he took a seat besides Azria, his gaze turned to study her for the first time. Her beauty had long been hinted at by many of the troopers, but none had ever said anything outright, their respect for her too great to say anything that would seem degrading simply because she was a woman. It was a respect he could tell was well earned, because sometimes, the deadliest of creatures, were the most alluring to gaze upon. And, although Azria lacked any semblance of an ability to use or even sense the force, he was more than capable of using his skill with that mystical power to get a feel for her.
There was definitely something that lurked beneath the surface, and it wasn't just the irritation she felt for him, and he knew after tonight, that he would not be able to dodge the meeting with her much longer. And if he was honest with himself, he decided there and then, that he had no intention of keeping her waiting any longer, as something within him shifted ever so slightly. He wanted to find out what lurked within her, and make it his own, and whether that was the alcohol talking, or some deep seated desire for revenge against Nicademus for what he had done with Illaria, he wasn't sure. If anything, it was very likely a mixture of both things, but he really didn't care, as he seated himself next to Azria, his gaze lingering perhaps a little too long upon her, which she would undoubtedly not like. But honestly, he could care less, right now something was alive in him, and if she had a problem with it, he would show her how he would deal with her issue. He then gave a nod of his head to Nicademus in greeting as he placed the drink down between himself and Atlantia
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Post by Azria Delvardus on Feb 3, 2016 22:19:59 GMT -8
The Imperial was not as interested as her brother was in looking around Gideon’s Command. She was more content to just sit in her corner and stew in the privacy that the shadows and dim lighting afforded her. Remaining unnoticed. As Nicademus looks to her, Azria lazily raises her gaze to meet his as she slides her glass back and forth across the table between her hands.
She chuckles at his response. “Oh come now, brother. I was merely teasing you. I know you are more than capable of cleaning up your own messes as is Artemis.” Her lips curl up into a grin as she just looks at her brother a moment longer. She had truly missed this. “I will be sure to put aside the time to go bug Artemis sometime, I suppose. That is, if I ever do manage to find more than a few minutes to myself.”
Azria is just about to raise the glass to her crimson lips when her brother asks her the one question she had seemingly been avoiding thus far. There is a tenseness to her muscles, her posture suddenly rigid as Nicademus inquires as to the outcome of her engagement. “Ah. Yes.” She looks him in the eyes before bringing the crystal glass to her lips and draining it of the amber brandy before setting the empty tumbler back down on the table. “Bastian. That is his name.” She waves her hand nonchalantly and shifts around in her seat a bit, uncrossing her legs and instead hooking them at the ankles as she leans forward a bit. Motioning to the waitress to bring her another drink, she laces her fingers together and rests her hands in front of her on the table. Just as she is about to answer her brother’s question, her mouth open as she is on the verge of speaking, Atlantia suddenly propels herself into the booth next to Nicademus.
The Imperial closes her mouth with a frown as the small humanoid woman interrupts her conversation with her brother. Her brain suddenly devolves into a violent whirl of inanity, trying to sort through the chaos as the current situation unravels around her. It seeks to discover a way to somehow control the capriciousness of people, to soften the encounters, to make them far less draining. However, the task is pointless. Life is far too random for the simplicity that is the human brain to make any sense of it and her conscious mind quickly acquiesces. “Well, you have quite the vulgar mouth…..just a filthy little thing, aren’t you?” Despite the frown that ghosted across her reddened lips, her buoyant tone conveyed amusement. The waitress that had been serving their table thus far over the duration of the evening placed another tumbler of Corellian Reserve in front of Azria, which she graciously grasped before taking a small sip.
Turning her head, the Imperial looks to Harnan as he nods to them, her eyes glittering in the darkness. Her gaze was intense as she analyzed him, blue eyes comprised of various shades of incandescent striking white-blue and ringed with indigo. They do not capture what light is present, but instead appear to defy it – so blue that they might actually glow on the off chance that she were to smile. But she does not. She does not even return his nod and instead, shifts away from him as he takes a seat next to her. A flash of annoyance briefly crosses her delicate features though she remains beautifully composed, her appearance immaculate and her expression carefully neutral. “Take care with where you cast your gaze, my dear Knight of Ren.” Azria’s cheeks take on a bit of colour, but whether this is from the alcohol or the result of Harnan’s scrutinizing gaze – it is anyone’s guess. “It lingers where you should not.” She speaks in a warning tone, voice thick with her Imperial accent. It is clear that her tone brooked no questions, a finality to her words.
Bringing the tumbler to her lips, she takes another sip of the golden liquid as she turns back to Nicademus and exhales softly before she begins speaking, clearly addressing him as if the others were not present. “Bastian and I were married a couple years after you and Artemis departed Eriadu.” Leaning forward once more, she takes on a more casual position, elbow on the table as she rests her chin in an upturned palm. Holding the glass of Corellian Reserve in front of her, she allows her gaze to wander to it, wanting to look anywhere other than across the table at her brother. “Things were fine for a few years.” She tilts the glass around in a perfect circle, the amber liquid swirling around in a clockwise pattern. “I was happy….until I was no longer.” Azria finally looks at Nicademus over the top of her glass before placing it back on the table in front of her. “So…..I left..” She gives a casual shrug as if it is no big deal.
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Feb 19, 2016 19:57:43 GMT -8
Bastian of the Motti Family. On the planet Eriadu, the Tarkins held the highest honors among the various families and groups that owed much to Eriadu and had done much to build it. Mottis were considered the lesser of them all. Some times it was an insult to marry a Motti, whether it was a female or male spouse, yet their father had been insistent on the arranged marriage of the First Commissar and Bastian. The first attempt was designed for Nicademus who had gone on a date with a Motti lady; it only took less than ten minutes before she was deposited at a hovertaxi platform and left by the young Delvardus. Azria was the next choice by father, who desired to use Motti resources and connections to propel themselves upward as a Tarkin marriage would have been very hard to acquire, even from the cousin branches.
Nicademus didn't remember Bastian much; only a few meetings between the two families where Nicademus stood in attendance with his father as the appointed heir of the Delvardus legacy and household. He recalled the Motti male being rather... dull and average. Nothing interesting, nothing outstanding, nothing that truly made him stand out. The only thing this person had was the Motti name and heir-apparent title. It seems the designs of their father came to naught in the end.
Nicademus reaches for his own drink and takes a nice swig of it before speaking in response to the words of his sister.Well... I can say that the plus side of you two separating is that you are not held back by Bastian. Father saw him as some outstanding figure when I found him to be quite dull and average. It would have been better to marry you off to a Delvardus cousin or any other family of the Quintad. Not sure what father saw in Bastian.I do hope you don't mind the sudden invasion...
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Harnan Ren
Knights of Ren
Posts: 601
Affiliation: Knights of Ren
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Post by Harnan Ren on Feb 27, 2016 23:52:05 GMT -8
Atlantia and Azria had built quite the friendship since the events of Garqi, despite how poorly that had ended for Azria personally, things could certainly had ended a lot worse. Things had ended for the better though, and Atlantia had got off were a mere stern talking to from Harnan, who had lectured her at length about the importance of protection. He had become a different man since he had returned from Deralia, he had certainly confided in her about what was at stake, having not kept his meeting with the Master secret from her, for she was his apprentice, in a manner of speaking. It was one of the reasons that her training had become slightly more intensive, as Harnan worked to ensure she was ready for any outcome, or perhaps, made a full Knight of Ren sooner rather than later
Can't deny that one. I did learn from the best... or the worst...
Harnan smiled as Azria seemed both annoyed by his lingering gaze, but also flushed by it at the same time. She was quite the remarkable creature, and under other circumstances, his pursuit of her might have perhaps been a little more serious. He still had every desire to find out what lurked beneath the surface, but he could already feel some deeply sobering thoughts crossing his mind when it came to claiming her. He gave a wink at her, certain he could still have some harmless fun with Azria, even if she wasn't perhaps all too happy about it, before he took a draught of the Phelopean Forest between him and Atlantia. He then turned his gaze back upon Nicademus, as the man commented on his surprise at seeing a Knight of Ren mingling here, his gaze remaining hard-set upon the man. For the time being, the man remained beyond his grasp, protected by the love that Illaria felt for the Supreme Commander, but the moment that changed, Harnan's blade would quickly find itself embedded in the man's back. And then, Harnan smiled, a sight which put Atlantia on edge, worried about what he was going to do
It wasn't my choice of venue, the young Lady Ren insisted on coming here. And so, here we are... For now anyway...
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Post by Thomas Blackwall [Retired] on Apr 7, 2016 16:24:09 GMT -8
Much had happened since the Battle of Csilla. Blackwall and his team had successfully aided in securing the Chiss flagship and helped break the back of any resistance present. Though the battle had been taxing, on the mind, body and machines that drove the Imperial War Machine. Blackwall had just been happy to leave that frozen wasteland behind. He wasn't one that enjoyed those types of locales. And he had seen plenty in his nearly thirty years of active duty. Right now, he was just enjoying a good drink, while his squad enjoyed some well earned R and R. Despite the quiet downtime they were currently receiving, there were whispers of a new assignment circulating around Imperial Strategic Command. While Blackwall was certainly interested in jumping back into the thick of things, he wasn't about to go chasing rumors. He'd wait until an official report came down from the top before he'd assume he knew where he was being shipped out to next.
Blackwall sat in a padded booth, sipping on a glass of the infamous Tarisian Ale. The only other member of his team that was still seated at the booth was Nolan Winters, otherwise known by his call sign Reaper. He sat, merely observing the interactions of his teammates, while sipping on his drink. He wasn't much for small talk, but he was a helluva shot. Blackwall looked the man over once, then went about surveying the bar around him. Ramirez was busily trying to teach Locke how to play pazzak, while the other two members were loudly cheering for some sort of sport being played on the screens. Blackwall raised his glass to his lips and took a sip of the Ale. He let the warm burn of the liquid sit in his mouth for a few moments, before he swallowed. He felt the burning sensation the entire way down.
Hopefully he'd receive orders soon, otherwise he'd end up spending a large amount of his down time here in the bar. And that was something he wanted to avoid, if he could. Having a drink with the team was one thing. Sitting here drinking alone to pass the time was another matter entirely.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2016 9:01:24 GMT -8
Somehow she'd always managed to linger in the High Colonel's shadow, forever whisked away by the endless tirade that was his greatness. Even now, as her lips caressed the edge of her mug, his shadow wrapped around her. "The great High Colonel, Gideon, Raith," Allyssa would think to herself. Praised in the Galactic Empire. Worshiped among the cultist Second Imperium. And . . . and now, cemented as a pillar of the First Order. Hell, they'd now given him his own cantina. None of that mattered, now; she liked the man. And if one to be completely honest, she much preferred that it was his name that peasants whispered in envy. No, she wasn't much of one for the spot light and perhaps that why she was where she was these days. In the days of the Second Imperium, it had been his command that she'd been under, an elite officer within his fourth legion. However, now his command no longer guided him, even as his shadow loomed so. No, her place was not by his side now and rather within the risen First Order and even there, her position and rank weren't common knowledge.
She took a deep, yet delicate swig of the vile liquid contained within, allowing it to burn her throat as it swam hastily to her stomach. A bitter expression creased her faced as she forced herself to keep the drink down - she'd never been one to drink and it showed as she sloshed the remaining liquid around the base of the mug. "Perhaps another time, Ally. Perhaps another time."
She gaze raised to the bar keeper before falling quickly back to the liquid within the mug; letting her mind drift, reminiscing of days of old.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 28, 2018 4:53:12 GMT -8
Kortos walked in to the Gideon's Command, the state sponsored Cantina located within the Imperial Strategic Command. He surveyed the room for a moment, before heading for a booth located in one of the darker corners of the room. He had come for a little bit of relaxation and to get away from some of the training he had been doing lately. The last thing he wanted, was for some Imperial Officer to notice him here and bring up a laundry list of missions he needed to prepare for. So he took his seat away from everyone else and removed the helmet he wore. Placing it upon the table in front of him as he ordered a glass of Corellian Whiskey from a waitress.
As she went off to get his drink, Kortos turned the helmet around. Staring down at the black mirrored visor. It had been a while since he had taken the helmet off outside of the Tower of the Imperial Knights. But then, it was hard to drink when your face was covered by a mask
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Harnan Ren
Knights of Ren
Posts: 601
Affiliation: Knights of Ren
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Post by Harnan Ren on Jun 28, 2018 19:14:18 GMT -8
Although Harnan spent much of his time on Prakith, governing the Deep Core, he still made regular trips back to Muunilinst. His main motivation being to visit Illaria, whilst also spending some ‘training’ time with Azria. If not for them, Harnan would avoid the Imperial Capital altogether. After all, it was filled with people he despised, and was the ruling seat of one of the men Harnan hated most in the galaxy.
Harnan strode through the halls of the Imperial Strategic Command clad in his new black armour. Adding an even more sinister air to his already feared presence. Imperial Officers and Soldiers alike moved out of the Ren’s way. Fearing what might befall them if they crossed him.
He came to a stop outside the Gideon’s Command. Feeling a strange presence within the Force that he had not felt in a long time. He turned slowly to stare at the Cantina. Searching the Force to narrow in on the presence. Harnan took a few feet forward then, walking inside the Cantina to better scan its patrons. It was not long, however, before Harnan’s gaze fell upon the newly minted Imperial Knight known as Kortos Vel.
Harnan slowly made his way across the Cantina, before taking a seat opposite Kortos. Slipping off his own jagged helmet and sitting it down upon the table opposite the Imperial Knight
Kortos Vel... Or at least, that’s the name you’re going by these days, right? I thought you died on Dantooine... But then, I thought you’d died multiple times before, and yet here you are...
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Post by Deleted on Aug 11, 2018 23:36:33 GMT -8
Kortos had felt Harnan's presence, long before the Knight of Ren had entered the cantina. Where he had previously felt hope for a quiet drink, he now felt dread regarding the coming conversation. He barely raised his gaze from his red helmet until Harnan sat down on the opposite side of the table and removed his own helmet. Kortos raised his gaze to meet Harnan's as the Knight of Ren spoke. Seeming to state things more than ask questions.
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms as he studied Harnan. It had been quiet a few years since he had last encountered the Knight of Ren. A lot had changed for both of them since that last fateful encounter. Though, there was something very different about Harnan that he couldn't quite put his finger on. At least not quite yet "It just goes to show you that I'm hard to kill... Though, you're no stranger to such a resistance to death. I mean, as far as the galaxy is concerned, you died several millennia ago... So I guess we're both cursed with immortality..." The waitress returned and placed the glass of Corellian Whiskey on the table in front of Kortos. Granting him a brief respite to take a sip of it as he continued to study Harnan "I must say... Something seems different about you, old friend... And it's not just the greying hair..."
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Post by Thomas Blackwall [Retired] on Aug 15, 2018 8:14:11 GMT -8
Seated in the usual booth a few feet away from the bar, Captain Blackwall sat, sipping on a Corellian Whiskey. Since becoming a Captain within the First Order's Stormtrooper Corps, he had accomplished a great many things. The Battle of Csilla had been his trial by fire. Since then, he had partaken in the Assault of Dantooine, the Sacking of Ossus and the Siege of Adumar. Having done so had garnered him and his squad the reputation of being the First Order's Shock Troopers, willing and able to do whatever was asked of them. It had also earned him the respect of his team as well as many others. Many medals and commendations adorned his service record. And they were well earned. Not many with his service record had as many campaign ribbons and service medals as he did. But, being such a devout and dedicated soldier did leave it's fair share of scars. Which was why he was here in the first place. Gideon's Command was on of the few places within the Imperial base that he found himself able to relax and just unwind. Something that was sorely needed at times. Continuing to sip his whiskey in silence, he merely observed the patrons of the bar and lost himself in his own thoughts.
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Garrick Needa
The First Order
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Post by Garrick Needa on Aug 15, 2018 15:57:32 GMT -8
Seated in the usual booth a few feet away from the bar, Captain Blackwall sat, sipping on a Corellian Whiskey. Since becoming a Captain within the First Order's Stormtrooper Corps, he had accomplished a great many things. The Battle of Csilla had been his trial by fire. Since then, he had partaken in the Assault of Dantooine, the Sacking of Ossus and the Siege of Adumar. Having done so had garnered him and his squad the reputation of being the First Order's Shock Troopers, willing and able to do whatever was asked of them. It had also earned him the respect of his team as well as many others. Many medals and commendations adorned his service record. And they were well earned. Not many with his service record had as many campaign ribbons and service medals as he did. But, being such a devout and dedicated soldier did leave it's fair share of scars. Which was why he was here in the first place. Gideon's Command was on of the few places within the Imperial base that he found himself able to relax and just unwind. Something that was sorely needed at times. Continuing to sip his whiskey in silence, he merely observed the patrons of the bar and lost himself in his own thoughts. “Do you mind if I join you here?” |
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Post by Thomas Blackwall [Retired] on Aug 15, 2018 16:07:18 GMT -8
Taking another sip from his glass of whiskey, Blackwall allowed the amber liquid to sit in his mouth a few moments, before he swallowed. It burned all the way down, as a good whiskey should. Dressed in his uniform while out of armor, the front clasps were unbuckled while the old trooper relaxed. He wasn't technically on duty now, hence his extended stay in the bay. And then a firm, inquisitive voice poised a question to him. Looking up, he recognized the man asking to join him. And why shouldn't he recognize him? Being apart of the Galactic Civil War and several of the following conflicts, Blackwall knew who Admiral Garrick Needa was. Nodding his head, he replied, his pointed accent indicating his Imperial upbringing.
"Admiral Needa!? Of course sir."
Blackwall respected the man. Anyone who could survive through decades of war and conflict and still put on the uniform every morning was a damned hero in his books, worthy of the admiration, and more importantly, the respect.
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Garrick Needa
The First Order
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Post by Garrick Needa on Aug 15, 2018 16:32:13 GMT -8
“Thank you, Captain.”
The Admiral modded and set his glass down upon the table, the liquid within it shimmering due to the placement of the lighting. Looking at the man, he could tell that he had seen a fare share of combat. Evidenced by his rank plaque, he was a captain in the Stormtrooper Corps. His eyes were rather piercing, a look that he himself once possessed, ages ago. He had chosen not to wear his full uniform, possessing all the medals, due to the simple fact that it would attract too much attention for his tastes. He instead wore his simple grey uniform, neatly pressed, with rank plaque and code cylinders. Trying to blend in amongst the faces here.
“You have the look of a veteran about you.”
He extended his hand out across the dark colored table.
“Good evening, and please, it is just Garrick while we are off duty. It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain...?”
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Post by Thomas Blackwall [Retired] on Aug 15, 2018 16:41:41 GMT -8
It seemed that age certainly hadn't dulled the Admiral's ability to read a person off of a glance. Impressive. Reaching out and accepting the man's hand, he nodded.
"Indeed. Been sporting Imperial colors for the last thirty or better years now. And of course Admi-...Garrick." He corrected himself quickly, then continued. "Blackwall. Thomas Blackwall. And the pleasure is all mine, sir. I'd heard you were still out and about, fighting the good fight. I had no idea you were here, however. Barkeep."
Releasing Garrick's hand, he snapped his fingers to call the bartender over. Glancing over at Garrick, he spoke once more.
"Another round, if you will. Thanks."
Getting belligerently drunk was for the young. These days, Blackwall preferred a drink or two, on occasion. And, sitting with Admiral Needa, it called for a second drink.
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![Thomas Blackwall [Retired] Avatar](https://bbts1.azureedge.net/images/p/full/2018/06/984757de-dd6c-407a-9826-1bdefae44109.jpg)
