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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Apr 9, 2013 10:10:05 GMT -8
Chalmun's Spaceport Cantina—also known as Chalmun's, Chalmun's Cantina, double-c/ceecee by the city militia, the Mos Eisley Cantina or simply The Cantina—was a popular drinking and dining establishment located in the city of Mos Eisley on the desert world of Tatooine.
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Jace Stealer
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Affiliation: Unfair Advantage
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Post by Jace Stealer on May 1, 2013 14:56:31 GMT -8
Aside from Louie's Tavern, the hole in the dirt known as Chalmun's Spaceport Cantina (despite not being owned by Chalmun anymore, but nobody needs to know that) was the only other good watering hole in town. Smugglers and denizens of all shapes and sizes frequented the cantina between runs and work hours. Complete with a bar area, private offices, and a VIP section, the establishment can hold up to one hundred regular sized sentients. All is well with the cantina with liquor to dull the senses, music and gambling to distract the misguided, and information for anyone looking to acquire it...
Which is exactly why the Emerald Blades were here. In the basement behind several sealed doors with heavy encryption, and armed guards which stood behind it was an outpost kept secret from the dwellers of this arid planet. A whole platoons' worth of personnel operated on surveillance equipment stationed on this dust ball and operations plans that covered this section of space. Officers and technicians worked in tandem with agents and soldiers who operated both on this planet and in the nearby systems. Their activities were closely and discretely covered as to not attract suspicion or have themselves be monitored by slicers. Why else would a bar not allow droids in, as they could pick up the transmissions sent out by the outpost or carry equipment large and sophisticated enough to pick up on them?
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Sept 1, 2013 21:33:30 GMT -8
Aidan made his way past the regulars that visited the cantina and found a corner where he could be left alone. He wasn't sure what to drink this time around. He should be eating something but he knew Mos Eisley's palette and he wasn't going to be eating bantha this time around. No. He should drink. He remembered the Sarge's last words. Has he really left being a soldier? The merchant and his lackeys would probably argue against that. But his life centered around a self-sustaining lifestyle that made him very successful in the wild. And while the basic premises of combat applied to hunting, krayt dragons didn't wear armor and shot back with imperial carbines. He sighs. Did he leave battlefield or did it leave him? Has it even left? Burnside taught him a lot of Sithspit but Aidan wasn't trained for what to do when a man is in limbo. The Foxmarines were always kept in a state of alertness. Is Aidan still a soldier? Is he still a Foxmarine? Or has he walked away without knowing it?
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Post by Sylas on Sept 7, 2013 5:16:29 GMT -8
Jonn dusted himself off as he left the seedy streets of Mos Eisley, only to enter the even seedier cesspit of crime and liver failure that was known to the city's inhabitants as, Chalmun's Cantina. Behind him were droid specialist Kel Thelmat and Leftenants @kaytra and Ali Hadrix. The other flight officer, Sam, had already split off from the group as they entered. Jonn muttered into his commlink, the act obscured from any prying eyes by the covering of his shoufa.Sarge, keep out. Eyes on the entrance. Kaytra, Thelmat, stick to Sam. Buy a drink and stay low. Hadrix with me.He kept his instructions short and clipped as he shouldered past the varying denizens of Tatooine. Jonn's eyes darted from patron to patron. Nobody looked at him or his team anymore suspiciously than normal for a place like Chalmun's. Making his way to the bar, Jonn leaned against the counter and raised three fingers that included his thumb. Corellians. The bartender looked up from wiping some mugs, giving Jonn an appraising look. Whiskey or ale? Jonn replied with, Whiskey. Which the bartender shook his head at, We're out. Sighing with exasperation, Jonn sarcastically responded with, The kriff you ask me for then, if you're out of one anyway? The bartender deadpanned with, We're out of both actually. Jonn didn't bother deigning it with a response, keeping the derogatory terms he had for the bartender in his thoughts alone. The man was going to be serving them their drinks after all, when he was done being a bantha about it. You got Lomin? The bartender gave a nod,Yeah we got Lomin. He prepared the drinks and slid three mugs down Jonn and Ali's way. Jonn slid him some creds before gesturing for Ali to take one of the mugs.He made his way towards the back. Years ago he'd walked down this path many times after a successful mission, with the now deceased members of Burnside's Squad. As he reached a particular booth where a lone man sat drinking, Jonn slid in and laid one mug in front of himself and the other before the last Foxmarine. He pulled his shoufa back. Revealing the face that he rarely showed anyone, a face that @aidan had seen before. A face that Ali Hadrix would now come to know.You look like sithspit, Miles.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 7, 2013 23:10:16 GMT -8
As the men entered, Aidan kept his right hand over his machete’s scabbard. This wasn't anything new. It was a habit; a common courtesy he gave to most groups that entered this cantina. He left his other hand on the mug, careful not to alert anyone. Many men picked fights with this Foxmarine; few of them could still walk. The man wearing the shoufa entered first with a large commando and a small woman who looked like she knew what she was doing. They would be enough to leave a scratch but for the ones after them, it got interesting. The tall bald man and another girl with prosthetic arms followed. They didn't look like the type but Aidan’s a 5’5” marine. He knew better than to judge by looks alone. Heck, these guys could be a droid cult spreading the good word of circuitry. But if these were mercenaries the slave trader sent after Aidan, he had a strange way of picking men. His hand left his blade, however, when he saw the man bring drinks, leaving the commando with the tall man and the girl with the arms. The woman tagged along. Aidan took one last drink from his glass of water. He didn't want to be drinking water at this time yet when the barkeep informed him of their ale and whiskey shortages, he had no choice. Lomin would be nice if he trusted this particular barkeep to keep the usual blend but new guys seldom stick to the age-old formula of Mos Eisley Petrol. Over the years, Aidan shared a drink with all sorts of characters and there were many men that weren't particular about their Lomin. However, Aidan considered a few of them as friends. About two of them are dead and most have gone missing. Only one of them preferred to use a Verpine pistol with the scope taken out.
“Can’t change the way I look, Shadow.” He paused before smiling. “That's the thing about changing your face a lot. You polish a turd, it’s still a turd.”
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Post by Kel Thelmat on Sept 8, 2013 9:23:54 GMT -8
Kel didn't acknowledge Sylas' comm. If he wanted to keep things a little discrete then that's haw he would get it. Kel ordered himself a bottle of Ryll beer and meandered over the an open table in the back corner of the room. After sitting he lounged back and mimed taking a swig from the bottle, only letting a few drops pass his lips. Up to this point Kel was still wearing his goggles, and they allowed him to surreptitiously scan the room for anyone who might become a problem later. He didn't see anyone other than the usual riff raff that was found in a place like this, so for now the worst he expected was a brawl between some drunkards over an implied insult.
Setting his beer on the table he nodded in the direction of the other half of the team, who had engaged a shorter man in conversation.
Looks like we found our guy without to much trouble. Maybe this time we'll actually have a mission that goes according to plan.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 8, 2013 14:41:40 GMT -8
*Kaytra made her way over to the bar, sitting down she ordered a bottle of Corellian Ale. From her vantage point, she could she the exit without directly being noticed. She took a swig of the drink and scanned the room with a bored expression.*
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Ali Hadrix
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Post by Ali Hadrix on Sept 8, 2013 18:24:32 GMT -8
Ali followed Sylas to the bar that was built into the center of Chalmun's Cantina. The man seemed to know his way about the place, not in a physical sense, in a mental one. He knew who needed watching and who didn't matter; important needs in any mission. Ali wandered her way casually to the bar, slipping onto a seat as Jonn remained standing and began talking back and forth with the barkeep over what they had or didn't have to drink. Pretending to be amused by the conversation, Ali slyly slid one leg over the other, crossing them as she leaned her elbow onto the top of the bar, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. She smiled sweetly as the bartender finally serviced Jonn's request for drinks, taking one of the Lomin ales he handed her. After Jonn paid for the drink with a credchip, Ali slipped from the top of her stool and back onto her feet, following Jonn over to a booth table that enjoyed only one warm ass. Catching sight of @kaytra, Kel Thelmat, and Sam out of the corner of her eye, Ali commended their decision to take an open table near the corner of the bar, but one that was facing the nearest exit. A booth made someone look guilty, as if the high-backed seats hid them from view any better than an open stool in the middle of the cantina. My commandos are carrying on just fine, Ali thought pleasantly to herself, though she wasn't at all surprised. Their natural talents and wit, coupled with the training they received as GALSAF commandos made each one of them a force to be reckoned with. A pilot, a tech designer, a…whatever Sam was, they were all skills trapped in the bodies of people that had become commandos. And now, they were tools, tools Ali used to protect and provide for the innocents of the galaxy. All in all, Ali thought she had one of the best tool kits around.
Jonn took a seat across from the booth's only occupant. He slid one of the ales over to the lonely man, keeping the other for himself. As Ali sat and enjoyed a draught of the ale, she saw Jonn slowly remove the shoufa from his face, exposing sharp, yet soft features beneath. Jonn had not been with GALSAF for long, though even the short time he had served under Ali had been too long to go without seeing a man's face. It had been part of the reason she had yet to feel she could fully trust him. Now she…she still wasn't sure. It was a hard face, softly skinned, yes, but his features were sharper than glass, his eyes were set stones that glittered the same way rubies did in the light: They had no other choice. This man was not a whole man, Ali realized. Even his features betrayed the reality that he was a sham, that whoever he truly was, was buried so deeply beneath him that even his eyes lied to the world…and all on their own. Keeping her thoughts to herself, Ali took another swig of the ale as Jonn spoke, "You look like Sithspit, Miles." He muttered, as if it were an accusation. Moments before, Ali would have dismissed it as brotherly banter, though in light of Jonn exposing himself, she suddenly threw into question everything about him.“Can’t change the way I look, Shadow.” The man, Miles, paused momentarily before smiling. “That's the thing about changing your face a lot. You polish a turd, it’s still a turd.” His retort settled Ali's nerves slightly. One man didn't approach another man with a slight and receive one in return if they weren't at least on tolerable terms with one another. She decided to test their boundaries before Jonn had his chance to reply to the quip about his species. "This is so cute," Ali interjected, sliding her glass to the center of the table and tilting her head to the side as she giggled loudly, her lips spreading into a pitying smile that brought her bottom lip behind her teeth."Rather than sit about and measure each other's manhoods, why don't we skip to the point of why we're here?" Ali grinned mockingly at them both, adding in a whisper, "Mine's likely bigger than both of yours anyways." Ali sat back against the booth seat, her hands placed politely, one over the other, near the edge of the table. A subtle gesture to Miles that she held no weapons and meant no harm. Depending on how close the two were at the time of this meeting, Ali was expecting either frustration and resentment at her interruption of their macho greetings or a blunt acceptance of her suggestion, which would tell her they didn't much care for one another.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 8, 2013 19:23:29 GMT -8
Aidan hid his smirk at the girl’s words. A fiery one she was, and no taller than Aidan but seemingly just as tough. Maybe she’s a conquest of Jonn’s. Not that he would know what Shadow fancied. This one is interesting though. Of course, they weren’t here to catch up on old times which explained her presence along with the group near the entrance. And Mom said never to leave a lady out of a conversation unless he can deal with a woman's wrath. Aidan had enough sense not to learn that the hard way. Still hunched over his empty mug, he faced the girl and bowed slightly. “Apologies, Ma’am. I seem to have misplaced my manners.” He extended his hand towards her. “Aidan Miles, bantha hunter.”
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Ali Hadrix
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Post by Ali Hadrix on Sept 9, 2013 10:20:08 GMT -8
Ali shook @aidan's hand, a pleasant smile on her lips. "Aren't a bit short for a bantha hunter?" Ali teased, crossing one leg over the other and sitting back against the booth. She picked up her glass and swallowed down another mouthful of ale, shrugging as she placed it back down on the tabletop. "You know, tall saddle and all." Ali winked knowingly at the man, wondering briefly about his time as a Fox Marine. She leaned forward, setting her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands. "Think of this as a job interview, Aidan. This is where you embellish generously on your accomplishments in an attempt to convince me you care enough about the average galactic citizen that I end up deciding to hire you." Ali's expression looked pleasant and sweet enough, perhaps even hinting at innocence, though the spark in her eyes betrayed the seriousness with which she spoke. "GALSAF only wants the best, those with the most potential, and the deepest commitment to the righting of wrongs. We exist to stamp out not the oppression in the galaxy, not the crime, those are behaviors intrinsic to sentient beings. Our job is to punish the oppressors, the criminals, anyone we decide is deserving of such punishment. We don't care about galactic politics, we don't care about peace treaties, sanctions, embargoes, blockades...we don't care about the laws of governments or factions, democracies or dictatorships. We don't care about Jetiise or dar'Jettise, Light Side or Dark. We only care about two things, Aidan Miles." Ali stabbed at the tabletop with an index finger. "Right...and wrong. Can you handle that?"
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2013 15:43:25 GMT -8
“So this here's a little interview.” He arched back on his seat and looked up to think. He sighed and closed his eyes. “GALSAF huh?” The images of soldiers out for the sake of the common man wouldn't be a bad place to start. He tried to imagine what it would be like to join and fight the good fight. But only seven faces flashed before his eyes. Seven faces that fought for each other. Seven faces that lived for the mission. Seven faces that died for him. He opened his eyes and leaned forward with steel eyes that have seen atrocities one man should never see. “I'm sorry, Ma’am. That smile o’ yours can get you a long way but y’all got the wrong man. Just a simple Tatooine bantha wrangler without a credit to my name here. Don’t know what my friend, Jonn, here told ya, but I don't think I am what you think I am. All I do is walk out there for a few weeks, grab a few cows, come back here, and make sure no one cause nobody no trouble. And if they do…” He looks over at the Holonet footage near the bar surveying the wreckage of a slaver caravan earlier. “Well, I've got a few skills here I've learned over the years that make me a nightmare for certain folk. I won't lie, Ma’am. I've fought scum with the intent on seeing them crawl six feet under and staying there. And I did it with seven men by my side.” Finally, he took a drink from the Lomin Jonn handed to him earlier. It had some of the usual kick and sweetness but it wasn't as bitter. Aidan needed bitter. “You see, Ma’am, men like myself aren't what you would call a 'scholar'. If you pointed at something that ain't right, all you gotta do is tell us who we gonna bite and how hard. And darling, me and the boys bit hard and we were pretty good at it. Because we knew that for every bad mutha-frinker we took down, ten families live. For every ship that doesn't get to its destination, meant a city. And when their head honcho is hiding behind his desk with a turd stuck in his pants, we saved a planet. They were seven good men. And just like them, if you told me that good folks were about to be sold for less than a cow, I'd bite until I ain't got no teeth left, Ma’am. But in the end, we were… expendable. Seven soldiers died fighting to the end no one did a frinkin’ thing.” His eyes were now focused on Ali. “Oh y’all were right to come here to look for the best and I think what y’all are doing is great and all but I'm just a bantha hunter now. I'd wear heels to hunt the critters…” He measures Ali from head to toe. “But looks like you’d need them more than I do, Ma’am. Sylas.” With his parting words, he nods at them both and stands up with his large bag slung over his back and walks away.. "You stay outta trouble, Sylas." He wanted none of the military life, and as great as it was to see his old friend, fighting again wasn't particularly appealing.
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Way Too Many Characters
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Post by Way Too Many Characters on Sept 10, 2013 7:21:30 GMT -8
= Sergio “Sam” Ghomesz = { At a table, Mos Eisley Cantina – Chalmun’s }Once inside, Sam doesn’t throw back his hood, as it will reveal his military-grade headgear, which resulted in him looking like he’s got glowing yellow eyes shining out from underneath the dark hood, and his breathing mask hides any other identifiable features of his face. Jonn instructs Kaytra and Kel to stick with Sam, get some drinks and remain inconspicuous, whilst the commanding officer, Lieutenant Ali Hadrix is to follow him to talk to his friend. While not one who would ever drink any alcoholic beverage of his own accord, Sam does not wish to draw attention by being the only person in a cantina with no drink in his hand, so he dutifully orders a drink of...anything, really. The bartender gives him a look, and considering how well Jonn’s conversation went (Sam’s hearing is sensitive enough to pick it up), he half expects to be spat upon or to find a drink with spit in it. Surprisingly though, the Ageless commando receives a drink that looks acceptable, and as he didn’t see or sense any ill intent aimed at him, he takes the drink, pays for it up front and rejoins the pilot and droid specialist. He does not make any attempt to remove his breathing mask in order to allow himself the means to drink, he has no intention of touching the disgusting substance. It is beyond him why the Adhartim (mortals/humans) can stand to drink down this thing. It must be a masochistic tendency.
He begins to tune himself to the surroundings, and starts mentally painting targets, based on the highest visible threat levels. Three thugs, table to the west, two humans, one Ithorian. Five spacers, one duros, three Bothans, one human, possibly smugglers. Patrons of varying races. Three annoying Bith musicians, two Twi’lek waitresses, one human waiter, one bartender.
That’s right, he considers the musicians to be a higher threat level than even the bartender, who may be armed. Maybe he just finds their music to be insufferable.
But either way, his plan of attack should the need arise is to take out the thugs first, followed closely by the spacers, and then everything else. The sonic mines, EMP grenades, sonic pistols, verpine rifle, and his various assortment of weapons and gear should be sufficient to handle this cantina, and if need be, portions of the city, though he doesn’t intend to let it come to that. He tosses a discreet glance over at Kaytra and Kel. Being closest to him at the immediate moment, he is more closely attuned to them than to anyone and anything else. Few amongst the commandos are aware of the fact that Sam isn’t human, and is barely near-human. What he is internally is so different to humans, there is very little that humans and people like him can share. What being him does give an advantage in, is his extremely enhanced senses. For instance, his hearing, his sense of smell, and even his ability to taste, feel, and see, is far superior to humans. For instance, what he can see, smell and hear from the two people sharing the table with him.
Kel’s overall demeanor right now seems to reflect a form of confidence and self-assurance. His scent suggests to Sam that he is not truly hiding his feelings and right now, he is hopeful, almost excited, but at what prospect, Sam can only guess. In terms of looks, he is as he appears to be, because of his vision scopes, he is unable to see Kel with his natural eyes, or he may be able to pick out more details, but that is not something he particularly wishes to do unless he is performing a medical operation on the man. As the team’s co-pilot and doctor for this mission, Sam decides to commit all of his teammates details to memory, in case of emergency. Next he observes and studies Kaytra. She is young, very young, especially to him, who has lived...well, almost forever. Up close, her scent is stronger than ever, and again, there is...not a wrongness, just something that shouldn’t be there. And he can pick out the minute expressions on her face. He’d say she would make a Coruscant Holovid producer proud. The girl’s a talent for disguised expressions. Even though he can pick out various other expressions, and an air of wariness about her, it’s almost impossible to determine which expressions are the true ones, and the soft, but definitely there clicking sounds he can here from her indicates the presence of active mechanics.
Mechanical prosthetics.
Of course such things are not uncommon. Many sentients sport mechanical prosthetics to replace a lost limb, or limbs. But the volume he can hear from Kaytra suggests that all four of her limbs are artificial, and possibly some other parts of her. To borrow a quote from an old friend: “She’s more machine and human, now.”
It saddens him somewhat, to see someone so young already having lost so much. He never perused her dossier files, even though, as a medical consultant, it is his right to do so in order to know what treatments can and cannot be applied to a person, she never needed treatment from him, thus far, and he never tried to pry. But now he is curious, at the least, to know and understand the young woman better. He doesn’t expect or require her to open herself up to him completely, or even at all, but everything has to start somewhere. Normally, he wouldn’t bother interacting or conversing with anyone, beyond the necessities of a mission, but for the first time so far, he’s about to initiate conversation, not just to sell a cover story, but to genuinely find out about the people he works with. So he chooses to start with Kaytra, and a slight rasping from his breathing mask is the only announcement before a soft, but artificially altered voice calls for Kaytra’s attention with a simple query: :: Kaytra, how are you holding up? ::He considered asking her a more military, commando-based query, about her battle-readyness, and if she has also painted targets like he has. But instead, he decided on something simple, and a little surprising. It’s not like they’ve gone through hell...yet. But he asks a question that can be taken in many ways. Now it’s up to her to decide how she wishes to respond.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2013 10:42:54 GMT -8
*Sams question caught Kaytra slightly unaware. She turned her black and green eyes to the man, studying him briefly. Giving the man a faint grin and responded in a calm tone.*
"I'm holding up well. No problems so far." *Her miscolored eyes glanced across the room at the three thugs then back to Sam.* "How about you?"
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Ali Hadrix
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Post by Ali Hadrix on Sept 10, 2013 19:59:46 GMT -8
Ali ignored @aidan's use of the term "darling" as well as she did his comment on heels, figuring it was just the man's charm. The only person she wanted to be a "darling" in heels for wasn't a man, and wasn't even in the cantina...or on the planet…or in the system…or…on second thought, Ali wouldn't have minded throwing on a pair of heels for either Leftenants @kaytra or Asha Bonafeld, though she wasn't a fan of Bonafeld's red hair. I'm getting distracted, Ali snapped at herself, breaking the train of thought as Aidan stood and made to leave with his bag slung over his shoulder. Quickly, Ali stood, grabbing the man by the arm in a grip that said "Hear me out, I'm begging you." Having stopped him, for the moment at least, Ali let go of his arm."Look, Aidan. You might feel jaded, hell, you might even be jaded, but that feeling…that feeling of losing vode, is nothing compared to twenty, thirty, maybe forty years from now when you do all that math again and realize that by giving that life up for…this-" Ali jerked her head around, implying the planet in general "-you've undone all that good work. You will owe the galaxy at that point, and you'll realize you don't have enough time left in this life to make it up to them."Ali looked down, gesturing to herself with both hands. "What I am, what I do, I do not because I'm one of the few that can…but because I'm one of the few willing to do it." Ali's face softened somewhat, she didn't know the details of Aidan's past, but she certainly understood the pain nonetheless. "My life, who I am, doesn't matter. I give it gladly, I sacrifice gladly. I am a tool, a weapon, something…someone with the ability to make the lives of others safer, better. And from what I know about you, and from what I see, right here, right now…you're just like me and everyone I serve with." Ali let her words settle, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest, brushing a lock of dark hair from her eyes, which were fixated on Aidan, and leaving the floor open for Sylas, were he to have anything to add.
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Post by Sylas on Sept 13, 2013 9:27:08 GMT -8
The man took a mouthful from his mug of Lomin. Gargling it in his mouth he thought to himself... what a load of bantha-piss. And he wasn't thinking of the ale, no that sithspit was good. All this talk about good here, justice there. That's all well and good, but that kind of motivation only got a man so far. Aidan Miles and the rest of Foxtrot fought for that reason. But look at him now. Sure, he liked Aidan well enough. Probably one of the few he'd actually consider a friend if forced to define their relationship. But Miles was just like the rest of them. Glancing around the cantina, he looked over to where Sam, Kel Thelmat and @kaytra were and locked eyes with the latter. Oh good, another one who's seen this particular face. Why had he taken his shoufa down again? Oh that's right, didn't want dear ol' "Pocket Knife" sticking that machete of his where it didn't belong. Guy had a funny way of greeting sometimes.
Then there's sweet, little Ali Hadrix. That one surprised him. He had been there on Bespin, and had read the report afterwards. But she actually drank whatever nerf-juice GALSAF gave its Commandos. There was no faking that spiel she just gave. She really was all for the cause. The man shook his head.
If they wanted Miles aboard it would take something greater than altruism, or whatever feel-good banthaspit it was that regular folk said to make them feel better about themselves. It would take something more primal. Tangible. Consuming. The man reached into the folds of his clothing and pulled out a datapad. Activating it, he opened up an encrypted message and tossed it to Miles for him to read.Revenge. It's a pretty good motivator. The man refitted the shoufa to cover his face once more as he leaned back against his seat. Jonn Sylas turned to face Leftenant Hadrix and gave her a sly wink. He was about to place the icing on the cake.Once between missions, during his time with the Foxmarines, "Agent Shadow" as he was known then went with Miles and Sergeant Rankin to visit the latter's family. "Boys, take a look at that." He had gestured at his wife who was preparing dinner, and the kids that had been running around the kitchen. "That right there. That's the reason I wake up every morning, put on my armor, and go out there. Commanding a buncha uncommandable idjits such as yerselves. To make this world a safer place for them. And I don't know if a day will come where all the scum out there that needs cleaning up is cleaned. But when it does, I'mma open myself up a cantina to beat all cantinas. It'll serve the best damn moonshine this side of the 'verse. And I wanna see both your ugly mugs, yeah you too Shadow, as patrons in my fine future establishment. Someday." Rankin Burnside had turned to address Aidan, like a father would a son. "Eh, Miles?" Back in the present Jonn looked down at his empty mug, all pensive-looking and sithspit. "'Sides, Miles. The armada's got better moonshine than this banthapiss." He looked Aidan Miles in the eye. "Maybe not the best this side of the 'verse though."
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Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2013 11:59:16 GMT -8
Aidan remained still when Ali pulled him to stay. He faced her, showing nothing else. While her change in disposition change didn't surprise him, her words did. She certainly did not seem the type to care about what suffering men have go through across the galaxy. But he heard this before. When he was still fresh out of SpecForce training, he was sent to marine orientation. Some recruits liked to say it purged the little boy out of you by burning you alive. Over the course of a month, they were herded like cattle, marching regardless of time, weather, and alert status. Some of them were pulled out into the cold night with nothing but a rifle and boots. They were drilled on close quarters combat with fists, blades, rifles, and for most of the time, without vision whether by flash screamers or by blindfold. They would practice the same maneuvers again and again until every man got their breathing right. They were deprived of water exceeding what was in their canisters and they were not allowed to refill until they reached the third evening. Anyone who didn't make it by the end of the month was "relegated" to the other regiments. And for the men that remained, they became marines. And like what sweet Ali was explaining to passionately to him, the officers indoctrinated to him the same thing. You do not serve the Alliance. You serve for her people. You die so that they live free. Again, she meant well. When he caught Jonn's datapad, however, he wasn't brought back to the moment he enlisted. He didn't find himself being taken in for SpecForce training. Nor was he taken back to marine orientation nor to the final moments of the Foxmarines.
He left Coronet and headed west on the road leading to the farmlands, hitchhiking on a rancher's hover truck. Getting off the town square, he walked past the third windmill to the right and walked down the road leading north. Finding the unfinished speeder, he stood at the gate of wooden fence on a patch of land in Corellia. His service uniform hung loosely on his frame from losing weight. The ensignia on his sleeve and the peaked cap on his head felt heavy. His feet were made of lead, not wanting to take the first step to go beyond the gate until he willed it to. His steps were light on the ground, so he would not have to leave his mark on this place. Once at the door, his hands turned into cold stone when he knocked. Sheila Burnside answered. She was a comely woman, unlike her husband. She had a pretty face despite her age and a gentle demeanor fitting for a lady. Junior and Sasha ran up next to her, looking up at the marine with a smile. "Is Daddy home? Is Daddy here?" They demanded. Aidan just smiled and asked if he could talk with their mother first. Mrs. Burnside reminded him of the gentle nerf being serene despite being herded out to be slaugtered. She knew what happened to her husband yet there she was asking what the lowly corporal would like to drink. They settled in the living room as the children played outside in the vast fields that surrounded their home. Aidan didn't know how to do this. Not for the Sarge's family. Hunter. Kovic. Allen. Upton. Mahmoud. Xavier. They were easy compared to this. While telling the other families was tough, he knew he held out on Burnsides for last for a reason. And when she wept he had nothing to offer but his shoulder to cry on.
Then he brought himself back to Tatooine. Here in this Sithspit cantina. Before these two. He had no willpower to bring himself to the moment he told the children as well. His face lacking emotion, Aidan shot a look back at Sylas before throwing back the datapad. His backpack was heavier this time but he kept on walking out of that cantina regardless.
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Way Too Many Characters
Red Dawn Medical Center - RDMC
You want the Honoghr? YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE HONOGHR!!!
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Post by Way Too Many Characters on Sept 15, 2013 11:58:27 GMT -8
*Sams question caught Kaytra slightly unaware. She turned her black and green eyes to the man, studying him briefly. Giving the man a faint grin and responded in a calm tone.*
"I'm holding up well. No problems so far." *Her miscolored eyes glanced across the room at the three thugs then back to Sam.* "How about you?"
Sam similarly smiles back at the young woman, but she would not be able to see that, since he is still wearing his breathing mask. His eyes also shoot over to Jonn, Aidan, and Ali briefly, just long enough to notice that things are happening fairly quickly. He sighs and makes a reply to Kaytra, but includes Kel into it this time. :: I was about to say that I'm doing better than expected, unfortunately, it appears that the Adhartim (Ageless for human or mortal) we came to speak to and recruit is about to leave the cantina. ::Rather than rising to follow, maintaining a state of nonchalance, Sam simply continues to converse with the two commandos with him, or at least, maintains the semblance of conversation. It is a two-way solution for him. For one, he is genuinely trying to open up a little with his teammates, and another, he does not want to look like he's really part of Jonn, Ali and Aidan's conversations and activities. :: Those cybernetics in your limbs, how are they handling in sandy terrain? ::
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2013 14:32:45 GMT -8
*Sams question caught Kaytra slightly unaware. She turned her black and green eyes to the man, studying him briefly. Giving the man a faint grin and responded in a calm tone.*
"I'm holding up well. No problems so far." *Her miscolored eyes glanced across the room at the three thugs then back to Sam.* "How about you?"
Sam similarly smiles back at the young woman, but she would not be able to see that, since he is still wearing his breathing mask. His eyes also shoot over to Jonn, Aidan, and Ali briefly, just long enough to notice that things are happening fairly quickly. He sighs and makes a reply to Kaytra, but includes Kel into it this time. :: I was about to say that I'm doing better than expected, unfortunately, it appears that the Adhartim (Ageless for human or mortal) we came to speak to and recruit is about to leave the cantina. ::Rather than rising to follow, maintaining a state of nonchalance, Sam simply continues to converse with the two commandos with him, or at least, maintains the semblance of conversation. It is a two-way solution for him. For one, he is genuinely trying to open up a little with his teammates, and another, he does not want to look like he's really part of Jonn, Ali and Aidan's conversations and activities. :: Those cybernetics in your limbs, how are they handling in sandy terrain? :: *Kaytra gave a glance over towards the others. Sam was right, things didn't appear to be going very well. She then turned her gaze back to Sam when he asked how her cybernetics were holding up.*
"At the moment their fine. But give them and hour, or a good sandstorm, and there will be sand stuck in every gear. Trust me, that sucks and it's hard to clean." *She raised an eyebrow in question. It wasn't everyday somebody was concerned about the condition of her prosthetics, some people didn't even realize she had them.* "Why do you ask?"
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Way Too Many Characters
Red Dawn Medical Center - RDMC
You want the Honoghr? YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE HONOGHR!!!
Posts: 103
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Post by Way Too Many Characters on Sept 16, 2013 5:18:20 GMT -8
Sam regards Kaytra with a considering look. He slowly removes his breathing mask, and pushes his headgear back up, into the hood. He wants her to see his face, his sincerity, and his genuine concern. "You're a commando." He responds simply, voice low, but just enough for Kel and Kaytra to pick up. "I ask because of a multitude of reasons, the foremost being your health, leftenant. We watch out for one another, and we need to take every precaution, to remain at one hundred percent as much as we can, without risk of compromise in any form."
He looks away into the distance, continuing his dialogue. "Your prosthetics come with vulnerabilities. If sand can get into the works, then you run the risk of having mechanical failure in the heat of battle, which can undermine both you and the people who depend on you." He turns back to her, with a small smile playing on his lips. "While I am confident you will rise to any kind of challenge that arises, perhaps I can offer you an edge and a means to avoid certain disadvantages that may come from the various terrains that GALSAF missions will present to us."
He steeples his hands together, looking down at the smooth motions of his fingers, and idly he wonders how she must experience the sensation. He knows that cybernetics these days come complete with sensations, and it's almost like the amputee never lost any limbs, but yet, it surely must feel different compared to a natural limb. He lifts his eyes back to look at Kel, "Hey, burc'ya (friend), I understand you have skills in droid works and various mechanics. Perchance you also do work in mechanical prosthetics?"
He looks back at Kaytra, "We're talking about combat-grade upgrades, GALSAF quality."
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Post by Deleted on Sept 16, 2013 5:48:30 GMT -8
*Kaytra watched Sam while he spoke, but when he began to speak to Kel, she gazed across the room. He was right and she knew it, this was something she had feared before. The mechanics in her arms and legs could fail, which could result in someone getting injured or worse She stared down at the palms of her hands and flexed her fingers. On the outside they looked real, felt real, but they weren't. Inside they were nothing more the gears, wires and other complex mechanics. Cold, that's how they felt. They had artificial sensors in them that told her most thing her real arms could, but it still wasn't the same. She turned back to Sam and spoke almost hesitantly.*
"Combat upgrades. Exactly how do you plan on upgrading my prosthetics?"
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