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Division 26 Rally Point Barracks
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Zero
Jase


Joined: 15 Jul 2009
Posts: 226

 Post Posted: Fri, April 09th 2010 04:55pm    Post subject:
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About a couple hours later

It had been late when they had left the bar; and now it was even later. Zero didn't care, though. He'd often missed days' worth of sleep while working on projects. After all, that was what they made stims for, wasn't it.

He sat at his terminal, quietly working on a new design he had thought of while at the bar. Why did it seem the best ideas came when he was losing his ability to think rationally? Now he had an incredible idea, but nowhere near the estimated cost he kept adding to as he went along. It would cost billions to build one, an amount he would never see in his meager lifespan. Still, he liked to dream.

Especially when most everyone else was asleep and he could work by himself in relative solitude. With access to his terminal during the night, it made him remember some of the better privileges of being tech sergeant.

"Yeah.... reinforced skeletal structure.... cortosis-weave in the armor plate alloy. And the sensor suite-to-organic-brain hookups! That would be ridiculous to try. Still, if it could be done...."

Were those footsteps? probably someone who wouldn't be able to grasp the scope of Zero's designs, even if it was laid out in layman's terms. He didn't bother shutting off the screen and kept working.

Tag: Moff let's see if I tagged correctly...
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Randoth "Zero" Subdern- Stormtrooper Sergeant, Aurek Company, Second Platoon



"I love the Imperial Army! I can blow things up and they usually don't yell at me for it!"
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Kendra Jendob
Moff


Joined: 19 Jun 2009
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 Post Posted: Sun, April 18th 2010 01:42am    Post subject:
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I practically stormed out of the platoon lieutenant's barracks. Of course, I made sure to wait until after the door shut behind me to let the storming show. Inside, it had been "Yes, Lieutenant," "thank you, sir," "of course, Lieutenant." Jackass.

Another person wandered to the forefront of my mind: my darling younger brother. Speaking of jackasses...

For a brief moment, the thought of putting the unpleasantness of the evening before behind us and trying to mend fences played in my head. Then it was promptly pistol-whipped back into the corner to whimper and cry, where it belonged. No matter issues he had with Dad, there was no gods-damned excuse for carrying on like such a dick. And the worst part is that he didn't seem to show a hint of remorse for how he acted on New Year's Day. Not a single milligram of regret that Dad's final memory of his son could've been that blowout.

Aw, come on... there's no way he could've known some lunatic would have come within a hair of killing Dad. To my annoyance, that damned pistol-whipped "make peace" line of thinking was resurfacing. Still no excuse for how he acted after.

Then again, Dad and I hadn't parted company under the best of conditions, either. Still, at least it wasn't in an atmosphere of outright contempt. I should probably get in touch with him... too late now, though. Tomorrow.

I walked toward the NCO barracks. The one nice thing about being platoon sergeant was I had my own separate room and office. It wasn't a hell of a lot, but it beat out the normal two-person NCO racks, or the enlisted barracks. A small measure of privacy, personal space. And in the Empire, that meant a lot.

I opened the outer door to the building and walked down the center hallway. All seventeen sergeants in the company were housed in the building. A meager ten rooms, crammed into the prefab structure. It was about three times the length of the field shelters found at actual camps. For some deranged reason, though, the showers occupied another building, but at least there was a built-in latrine. On one off-world posting I'd had, all they had was a shack built over a ditch.

As I walked to my room, I noticed light leaking out of the ill-fitting door. The nameplate on the wall cleared up why. Eh, a couple more minutes won't hurt. Besides, I should at least make sure Zero doesn't end up holing the wall or something.

I knocked on the door.

Tag: Jase
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Sergeant First Class Kendra Jendob


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Zero
Jase


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 Post Posted: Sun, April 18th 2010 06:12am    Post subject:
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Zero looked behind himself with a start. He wasn't expecting a knock at the door. Who was coming to see him? Well, whoever it was, they probably wouldn't understand what was on his screen.

Leaving the monitor on, he went to the door and opened it. To his surprise, Kendra was standing there. He wasn't expecting that... Why was she still up?

"Oh, hey boss... You're up late. I was just, uh, working on a new project. Nothing big, really..."

Tag: Moff
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Randoth "Zero" Subdern- Stormtrooper Sergeant, Aurek Company, Second Platoon



"I love the Imperial Army! I can blow things up and they usually don't yell at me for it!"
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Kendra Jendob
Moff


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 Post Posted: Tue, April 20th 2010 09:52pm    Post subject:
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I glanced at his screen. My time in the service had more or less desensitized me to the various Holonet-borne horrors that delighted the minds and libidos of the troops—both male and female—that I served with. However, instead of scantily-clad (or worse) humans, Twi'leks, or Zeltrons on the computer screen, there was a glowing technical readout for what had to be the weirdest armor suit ever designed. Only Zero...

"Planning on upgrading a few extra body parts?" I asked... then, with creeping horror, realized how very wrong that sounded. "Oh, uh, I didn't mean..."

Shitshitshitshitshit...
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Sergeant First Class Kendra Jendob


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Zero
Jase


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 Post Posted: Wed, April 21st 2010 01:00am    Post subject:
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That last line seems familiar.... :P

Zero groaned inwardly at the comment. Sure, it sounded bad, but when you weren't even using extra body parts, it didn't matter. Still, it was kind of funny. Duvayne would've had a riot, of course. Smiling slightly, Zero scratched the back of his head and looked back at the screen.

"Uh, well.... I guess that's just wishful thinking. I think the tech is sound on it, I'd just need about 90 billion credits for everything needed. Pretty advanced, you know? Plus there would have to be a willing test subject..."

He looked down at his arm and smiled. At least he had that going for him. Considering he had built it himself, he was still pleased with it. He patted it reassuringly....and watched in horror as it opened to reveal the blaster barrel. Fortunately, it didn't misfire, as was often the case.

"Frakking piece of junk!"

Turning away from the open doorway, he walked over to his workbench and grabbed some tools to work on the servos in the arm.

"This is what happens when you don't have proper funding...."

Tag: Moff
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Randoth "Zero" Subdern- Stormtrooper Sergeant, Aurek Company, Second Platoon



"I love the Imperial Army! I can blow things up and they usually don't yell at me for it!"
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Kendra Jendob
Moff


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 Post Posted: Wed, April 21st 2010 08:07pm    Post subject:
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I started to breathe again once Zero's arm was pointed away. Why it was installed was obvious... but it seemed to be quickly becoming more of a liability than an asset. And yet, given his tone toward the armor... he already had a test subject in mind.

Just what he needs; more machinery plugged into him to go haywire, I thought cynically. As Zero complained about funding, I fought down an urge to shake my head. He certainly tried his hardest...

"Well, I should turn in anyway. Just seeing what had you up so late," I shrugged, keeping my tone genial despite my pulse still racing. "See you tomorrow at reveille."
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Kendra Jendob
Moff


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 Post Posted: Sat, May 08th 2010 11:37pm    Post subject:
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After the near-disaster with Zero, I was glad to be safe and sound in my own barracks. Family came to mind again, as did the nagging urge to try to patch things up with my wayward brother.

Not tonight, at least. He'd gotten the worst of it in our little scrap, to be sure. And truth be told, I didn't want to forgive him yet. I didn't even want to speak to him again... yet. I was sure, given a few days... maybe a week, we'd cool down enough to fix things up. We always had, after all, even after outright brawls worse than what happened in front of Mom and Dad. Maybe it was that whole twin-bonding thing, maybe it was just that he used to be a decent person.

Of course, that had been when we were kids... maybe the growing up between those times and now had left us a bit quicker to anger and slower to resolve it. And, at those times, I'd been angry over what he said or did to me. It was another matter when he continued to attack Dad, even knowing how close we came to losing him that day. Maybe Mom's account of it wouldn't have made it sink in, but when he walked in, cut up and his hands still covered in blood from dragging someone out... the callousness sent a chill down my spine.

I laid down on my bed. Reconciliation would wait. Forgiveness... maybe sooner, maybe later... or, if things kept going the way they were, maybe not at all.



The next morning came quickly. I didn't even remember falling asleep. I sighed, gathered my things for the refresher, and made my way to the showers. A little more thinking on it today brought up the possibility that, since everyone from officers to enlistees used them, they hadn't had time to set up individual or even rank-segregated units. Fortunately, they were sonics: the clothes stayed on and it was quick. Group hydroshowers sounded like something from the Republic... or a holoporno running late at night on one of the movie feeds.

Maybe they're not setting up smaller units because they don't see the point floated across my mind as the ultrasonic pulses blasted away the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day before. It made sense... this was just a staging point, temporary. Transient. Of course, in the Empire, a month was considered to be transient deployment. I noticed a couple troopers sneaking glances now and then. A month of this...? It'll be almost as bad as boot camp all over again.

I finished out the cycle and quickly walked back to the barracks to change into fresh clothes. Granted, the old ones had been blasted clean, too... but a combination of upbringing and just plain personal preference made sure I always changed after a sonic shower. It seemed like it felt better, cleaner, and more comfortable. Once that was done, it was time to slip the two-piece, auto-sealing black bodyglove before strapping on my armor plates. Each glistening white panel was an improvement over what troopers had during the war: the Mark III could actually stop blaster pistol bolts rather than just diffuse them a bit. A lot of pirates found that out the hard way and a lot of good men and women were able to talk about it afterward thanks to the borofiber reinforcement. It was even tougher than the old Phase II Clone armor, but still had the environmental protection of the original Stormtrooper gear. It made the extra three kilos of mass—spread out across all eighteen pieces—worth it.

Once I had on everything but my helmet, I looked at the chrono. Still a good twenty minutes before I would normally report in. Then I remembered the shaky conditions under which I'd left home for deployment. While Kris could—and would—wait, I owed Mom and Dad an olive branch. Should've thought of that before you got into the armor, genius.

Rolling my eyes at my own lack of foresight, I sat down at my terminal and started to record a quick letter to my parents.
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Ams Jendob
Moff


Joined: 14 Jun 2009
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Location: The Gala

 Post Posted: Mon, June 21st 2010 04:07pm    Post subject:
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Finding the right barracks had been an adventure in and of itself. It didn't help that I stuck out like a sore thumb among the troopers. But no matter: Shayera was taking her shuttle to the Maelstrom to talk to our son; meanwhile I was to inform Kendra of the recent changes.

Eventually, though, I tracked down my daughter. I informed her of what transpired, in detail. Of the trials and tribulations the Remnant—and she—would be facing, both as a member of a newly-minted royalty and a soldier. I even offered to transfer her into the 501st Legion. At one time, the 501st was Vader's Fist, their arrival a death knell for any Rebel group caught in their sights. Now they served as the defenders of the Imperial capital and soon they'd form a praetorian guard.

"No," she replied. "No, Dad. I mean, I appreciate it... I guess."

"You guess?" I echoed.

Kendra sighed. "Well, maybe I'm not sure." My eyebrows shot up and a response was on the tip of my tongue. She quickly intercepted it. "Yes, I'd be beyond honored to have a place in the 501st... if it came from General Jaeger. Otherwise it comes off as the Moff's Daughter had a couple strings pulled for the best assignment in the Corps.

"And I haven't earned that invitation yet," she said earnestly.

Despite the blunt rebuffing, I had to admit it was tempered by pride. I nodded in acknowledgment. "All right, Kendra. I can understand—and appreciate—that."

Kendra reclined on her bed. "Thank you. And... wow... this is a lot to take in at once."

I could almost hear Shy's response if she'd been here: Ain't that the truth. "I know. Trust me on that..."

She laughed quietly. "Yeah, I guess it's a bigger surprise for you, huh? How many people figure they'll be elected an Emperor?"

A thin smile formed on my lips. "Yes, something like that." I paused, not sure how to approach the subject. I'd already explained how things were going to pan out, family-wise. And of course, her being the first legitimate Imperial princess in history would likely paint a large bulls-eye on her back. "Kendra... I have to ask. Do you, in the slightest, want to be pulled off the line?"

She gave me a confused look. "Why?"

I sighed. "This is going to sound... cold, but it's because I care about you. Having the heir-apparent on the front lines is going to make you quite the target. Especially if you're..."

Her lips pressed together in annoyed anticipation. How like her mother... "If I'm what? An enlisted trooper?"

She always was defensive about her decision to enlist rather than go to an academy. But being a platoon sergeant would put her grave danger... but there was more to it than her trying to be different. "You're my daughter, Kendra. My one and only daughter, and if something were to happen to you now, it'd be devastating to me and your mother. If it were to happen a month from now, though... it'd be a disaster for everyone. You are a public figure, now."

She groaned in annoyance. "Dad, I don't want any favors. I don't want a commission, a transfer, or a rear-guard posting. You always taught me to work for everything; now it seems like you want to throw all of that away and lock me away in some ivory tower."

"I would," I said frankly. "I'd love nothing more than to keep you in some safe place, where no renegade Grand Admiral can hurt you." I took a breath. "But, I've also learned that forcing that on you isn't much different from making you a prisoner. It's your choice, Kendra. But yes, I would give anything to protect you and keep you safe from harm."

A mixture of emotion played on her face. Finally, she sat up, hands clasped in front of her. "Well, I guess that's why I call you Dad," she joked. "And you've taught me enough about politics too that I can see the more... practical side of it. I would be a high-profile prisoner... or worse."

I winced. She went on. "I get all that. And it doesn't matter: I was a Stormtrooper before I was part of some royal family. My platoon is just as much as part of my family as you, Mom, Kris, Uncle Saemon and our cousins... I can't leave them behind. I'm sure you understand that."

I could, to an extent. I was sure Shayera would empathize far more. "Like I said, it's your choice." I rose to my feet. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

She nodded. "I'll be there. And I'm glad this went better than last time."

"Come here," I asked, not as a superior officer, but as a father. Kendra stood up... and I wrapped my arms tightly around her. "Sometimes it seems like I didn't do this enough," I lamented, hugging her tightly. "But I love you, Kendra."

"I love you too, Dad. I even like you most of the time," she smirked.

I laughed. "Well, then my life's goals are complete. I suppose I should let you go back to your duties now."

She snorted. "What duties? Instead of sending us to our jobs, the Moff Council apparently decided to..." She trailed off when she caught my look. "Oh, yeah. That was your idea, wasn't it?"

"Your mother's, actually. I just had the lack of common sense and mentioned it," I shook my head. "And you should probably not mention that to your platoonmates, either."

Kendra chuckled darkly. "Oh, don't worry about that. Besides, it's not your fault they took the idea, ran with it, and made you the Emperor."

I grunted with agreement and opened the door. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," she confirmed. "Take care."

"You too... for all our sakes," I replied.

She nodded and the door slid shut. I didn't like the metaphors that flooded my mind at the image. No, everything's going to be fine. Zend will be a flimsiplast tuskcat.

But I knew that was wrong and dangerously overoptimistic. Daara Zend didn't conduct small, probing attacks; she launched massive, overwhelming assaults on targets. And she always made sure she had the forces to do so.

My hands clenched unconsciously at my sides. She made two mistakes: the first was when she left. Her second would be when she returned. The only question was when that second error would be... then her downfall would follow. I just hoped the price didn't include Kendra, Kris, or Shayera.
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----"Moff", CMAC Dreamcrusher, Official Administrative Waldorf and Statler----
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Kendra Jendob
Moff


Joined: 19 Jun 2009
Posts: 170

 Post Posted: Thu, July 15th 2010 02:18am    Post subject:
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The Corellian whiskey burned as it went down. For a minute, it tasted like I'd been chewing on a piece of burnt wood, with a vanilla finish on the back of my tongue. Normally, I hated the stuff. But, for a little while, my need to forcibly relax my mind and body outweighed my distaste for the amber fluid.

Well, this isn't what I imagined when I was a kid. How many little girls thought of throwing back shots of cheap liquor after becoming a princess? No, no... it was flowing dresses and unicorns and knights in shining armor. Well, this time, the princess had the shining armor... and a slow buzz. Damn...

Even though Dad had been by the day before, lecturing and pontificating and even bluntly saying he wanted to disregard everything he'd thought me... it never really sunk in until a couple hours after the coronation. I'd stuck around for a little bit, kept Mom some company, but she eventually wandered off to track down the new emperor. Rather than sit around and twiddle my thumbs in the middle of Imperial Headquarters, I went back to base.

Fortunately, the discussion was still on Dad and Zend; no grand biopics on the "royal family" yet. I still had an ounce of anonymity in public, and was able to take a hoverbus to the base. A quick call to Mom (I couldn't reach Dad... but that wasn't surprising) let her know, and then came the task of avoiding the platoon until I was ready.

And as I set the thrice-drained glass down on my little table, I knew I wasn't ready yet. I asked myself, "What the frak am I gonna do now?"

In a mixed blessing, no voices replied back.
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