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Post by Whill High Shaman Furas on Feb 27, 2013 0:49:49 GMT -8
*The history is currently unknown.*
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959 
Affiliation: Fallanassi
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Post by The Major on May 30, 2013 19:45:28 GMT -8
Run, run, run.
"Still, it's nice to wish."
Run, run, run.
"...If he understands..."
Would you wear that black liner, Baby?
"...it could never be..."
Run. Run. Run.
"...still, he's making plans...."
The wonderful thing about being stationed in a rusty old bunker on a planet that was pretty much strip mined for ship materials wasn't the fact that he had been stationed here for nearly eight months. It wasn't the lack of targets to shoot at. It wasn't the fact that there were seven other guys in this group. It wasn't that he hadn't seen a live woman in six months. It wasn't even the monotony of cleaning guns that were never used everyday. The wonderful thing about Foerost was the peace and quiet. Too quiet though, which had resulted in the 29 year old Private from a planet that he didn't even know had been blown to Hell just three months ago to start having conversations with the happy folk in his mind. They were like family, but the kind you couldn't tell a single soul about -because then you were insane, and the rest of your days would be based around the idea that leaving your bedroom window wide open was a fashion statement.
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by The Major on Jun 2, 2013 16:53:42 GMT -8
The private's mic chirps, and before he even has a moment to adjust himself or cut out his lonely talk, his commanding officer orders him to return to the bowels of their little iron home, because an even more commanding commander had made it known that they would be receiving a new deployment. This excites the man to such an extent that he proceeds to jog home only to trip on the return trip. Damn Foerost with its jagged rocks and tricky foot placement.
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by The Major on Jun 6, 2013 21:02:35 GMT -8
Danke! Frankly, for dee dead
I never hankered much; instead
I'd rather have a cheek quite red und plump,
I'm out if ever a corpse comes to my house;
I act just as a cat does with a mouse!
The Fallanassi smiles aptly from the warbling screen just as Vonnegut makes his entrance into the dusty room. A number of his squad stab him with quick death glares. Interruption was not taken lightly among the fascists.
Oooooh, wunderbar!
You've made it, Schütze.
Der mission is simple:
evacuate und leave swiftly.
I expect you all to be here in three days.
Any wounded are to be executed
as in line with Official Mandate number three hundred und fifty two.
The men exchange glances at each, most likely wondering if they might have to cut down the very man standing next to them, after working as komrades for so very long. It is not a pleasant prospect. Nothing, however, ever seemed to be.
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by The Major on Jun 13, 2013 6:20:20 GMT -8
*For simplicity's sake, the platoon is packed within the hour, with only the most useless of mementos left by the wayside. Really, they were discarded haphazardly on the floor as if they were a bunch of hobos taking shelter. They file out, disorganized, tired, and pile into a hover-vehicle of some sort that is simply there for the sake of explaining this post. They are off.*
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Feb 23, 2019 19:48:32 GMT -8
Foerost, one of the many major shipyards under the control of the First Order. Unlike the more lively Kuat, its planet's surface was rather barren at first glance, but was rich with minerals. Minerals that helped supply the shipyards in high orbit, minerals that were refined and crafted onto the skeletons of mighty warships within the Imperial Fleet.
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Nov 1, 2021 19:32:44 GMT -8
The mines of Foerost had been kicked into the high gear the past several months, until recently, when, accompanied by a holorecording of the Emperor, thanking the workers for their diligent efforts, they were given a week's time off with full pay. Droids and machines took over the work for the wary and tired organic workers who were surely thankful for the reward. Even the overseers were allowed some much needed rest. Stormtroopers told workers to go home and be with their families. They didn't need to be told twice and so, a week's worth of peace was given. By the grace and generosity of their Emperor.
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