[Originally written by Foln] Imperial Army Chronicles: The Pursuant
Chapter One “Hey! Wake up!” Some things really are easier said than done. Eyelids strain to reveal a pair of bluish hazel eyes inset upon a pentagonal, green face. Well-kept, thick black hair peels itself off the bulkhead as its owner moves his head from its squarely seated resting position against the same. Groaning, he responds to the Cathar in white armor before him, “where’s the fire, Ja’tin?” “We’re coming up on Taris.” The feline-humanoid replied. “Lieutenant wants us all on the mess deck for some briefing.” “I swear” the Mirialan said dryly, “If LT shot as much as he briefed, we would run out of ammo in a week…” “Well, we’ve still got charge packs, and he’s still talking.” Ja’tin noted with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “And if he’s talking, then we have to be listening. Up‘n at ‘em.” Reluctantly, the soldier stood to his feet, adjusted the nearly-newly issued chestplate that had gotten slightly off canter while he slept, and followed his peer to the mess deck, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walked. _____________________________________________________________________________________ “Gentlemen.” The Lieutenant stated plainly once he saw the last two under his command enter the mess hall. “Now that we’re all here, we may begin.” His words were obviously pointed. The Lieutenant was habitually uptight, but something was apparently bothering him, more so than usual, and it seemed as though he was taking it out on the recently dozing latecomer. “We all know about the Taris recolonization effort.” The Lieutenant began. He was a tall man, but not necessarily a “built” one. He always seemed to be more intellectual and calculating than strong or violent. He was more reminiscent of a politician than a soldier, but perhaps he someday wanted to pursue a more political career. Whatever his motivation for the future, his voice was as vindictive as it was decisive. He spoke with a kind of severity that suggested the topic at hand required utmost concentration, even if he was simply talking about the weather or a similarly trivial discourse. “We also all know about our reassignment there after our tour in the Feebin sector.” His intense tone often provoked snide comments from those around him, and this case was no exception. In response, one of the more seasoned veterans in the mess hall said plainly, “Yes, sir. We had briefings about them not two days ago.” Lieutenant Pryll turned and eyed the man who spoke a little more sadistically than usual. Just as a few predictable snickers started to leak out, Pryll responded. “There is no time for humor. I need your full attention, as something terrible has happened and we’re about to be thrown into the middle of it.” Sensing the gravity in his voice, the room fell starkly silent as the Lieutenant continued. This wasn't one of the LT’s usual briefings. “I’ll cut right to the chase” he continued. “Yesterday, we received word from Tarisian command that a settlement was burned, a garrison commander is dead, and a sizable portion of that garrison is dead, as well.” The silence continued to dominate the atmosphere of the mess hall aboard the small transport. “There are also reports that an Imperial battlecruiser, until very recently, occupied this sector unbeknownst to Tarisian command.” This last part seemed to disturb the Lieutenant more than anything. “They only found it after they tracked a shuttle, of probable Imperial origin, depart from the settlement and dock with the battlecruiser. Before the ship could be converged upon, however, it had already slipped into hyperspace.” Another soldier piped up at this point and asked, “How could they just ‘miss’ an entire Imperial battlecruiser?” Pryll responded, hastily, “Tarisian command is currently analyzing their systems for any possible exploits or compromises. We know the Empire has been on Taris for years, but nothing like this. They’ve never been so bold to send a battlecruiser into Tarisian space.” Ja’tin spoke up, asking, “Doesn’t that constitute a violation of the treaty of Coruscant?” Amid dull discussion between the men in the room, Pryll admitted, “Unfortunately, the ship left the system before planetary command could get any conclusive readings, images, or proof whatsoever. We have no evidence that the ship was there, only preliminary readings of a battlecruiser-sized ship as only the Empire could have deployed." It is at this point in time that the Mirialan in the back of the room contributed to the conversation. “What does this mean for our mission, LT?” “I’m glad you asked, Private Howitz” Pryll replied. “Instead of our previous assignment to the rakghoul containment efforts in sector 7, the Hawks have been ordered to investigate the settlement’s destruction, find the perpetrators, and stop it from happening again. And if evidence of a treaty breach surfaces, we are to report it to Battalion Command immediately.” The men in the room broke their silences and the assembly devolved into a hushed conglomeration of discussions. Ja’tin looked to Howitz and said, “Well, I’d rather be hunting imps than fighting rakghouls any day of the week.” “Trust me, I’m right there with you, Ja.” Howitz replied. “Guard duty out in Feebin was boring; just a few rebels every now and again. I’ve been looking forward to some good Imp action.” “Don’t ask for more than you want to receive, Howitz.” It seems the Lieutenant had passed by the pair on his way out of the mess hall. “You might just get what you ask for.”