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Alden Akaran

Alden Akaran

Member Since 10 Jan 2019
Offline Last Active Yesterday, 04:51 PM
*****

#1953932 Sleep, No More

Posted by Alden Akaran on 12 June 2019 - 06:07 AM

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Location: The Desert Rose (6th Floor; Conference Room)

Wearing: Service Dress Uniform

Tags: Scherezade deWinter | Srina Talon | Darth Metus | Voph | Derek Dib | Luna Terrik | Veiere Arenais | Aida Aquila | Pom Stych Tivé | John Locke | Jessica Med-Beq | Gir Quee | Josh Dragonsflame | Atlas Drake | Peyton Steele | Adron Malvern | Anyone else - sorry if I missed you

 

Geonosis. It was a planet the High Marshal, Alden Akaran, had not stepped foot on in some time. And that time dated back to an undisclosed summit that had brought him face-to-face with one of the Confederacy’s very own Exarch’s, Adron Malvern. Back then, he’d only been a Major in the Confederate Navy - a far different time than now. However, in all honesty, the man wasn’t disappointed his visits to the capital of the Confederacy had been few and very far between. It was hot, sorbidly so. It was dry. And it lacked the appeal of life. The lush green nature of thriving vegetation would never find a foothold here for it was too hot and water was far too scarce a commodity to support it.

 

The sun had already crested the midday point by the time Alden had arrived in orbit and he had wasted no time in boarding the shuttle that had taken him directly to the capital city. He’d landed a few clicks from the Desert Rose, but thankfully he’d managed to arrive within the climate control sector of the planet. Even so, the sun somehow managed to seem blistering hot, with its intensely bright rays forcing the man to shield his eyes for a time until they could finally adjust. Well...at least as best as they were able.

 

Here, it seemed such a task never got any easier.

 

The hour was approaching 1600 by the time he’d managed to arrive at the Desert Rose and, again, he wasted no time making his way toward his final objective and quickly clearing through the initial security checkpoint. The elevator would speed him toward the sixth floor where this summit, of sorts, was supposed to occur, his directing to be here, simply being a result of his rank now. Something about it being one of the responsibilities innate in being the commanding officer one of the Armada’s sworn toward the protection of the Confederacy and in so being the appointed protector of a sector. That and holding the second highest official commissioned rank within the Confederacy Defense Force, second to just the Grand Marshal, Genesis Rostu , and above him, the governmental Minister, Caesar Kenway. Needless to say, promotion had meant more responsibility and more mundane meetings to attend.

 

The elevator doors slid open and he stepped forward to where he was greeted by two security personnel that each rendered him a salute which he returned before they began the processing of ensuring he was exactly who he appeared to be. They performed the verification against his identification which he’d given them found that everything checked out and returned it to him.

 

“Sir, if you have any communications or electronic devices, please secure them in the safe on the wall to your right. You will be able to retrieve them once the session has adjourned. Thank you.” The lead security officer had spoke up with a rehearsed perfection with his oration, obviously having already said it a number of times before. “Also, if you are carrying any force of weaponry, those items will also be required to be secured outside here and you may retrieve all possessions after the session has concluded, Sir.”

 

Alden simply nodded to the man as he reached into his pocket and pulled the lone comlink from it, before stowing the singular device in the safe as instructed. Afterward, he proceeded forward and entered the room which opened up to reveal a number of people which had already arrived. Many of the faces gathered here were unfamiliar to the man, however there were a few that were recognizable to him. And of those faces, there was only one face he actually knew on a personal level, Scherezade deWinter. Of course he knew of others here and the positions they held, such as the Exarch, Srina Talon, however, of those currently gathered, Scherezade was the only one he actually knew and so he approached the group she appeared to mingle with which seemed to include the Exarch and a Miralukan (Voph).

 

“Exarch Talon,” he said with a slight bow of his head. He then extended his hand in the manner to offer her a handshake. For him in his military mind, it was only proper to acknowledge the Exarch first as in this case she carried the highest rank among them.




#1952055 Giving the Givin [CIS Dominion of Yag'Dhul]

Posted by Alden Akaran on 06 June 2019 - 04:31 AM

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Location: Yag’dhul Orbit (Fortressa)

Attire: Service Dress Uniform (LINK)

ArmamentLightsaber

Objective: I. Death in the Skies

Tags: Voph | Julius Rhein | Keira Cerdulan | Scherezade deWinter | Srina Talon

 

Chaos and death had erected a monumental image of brilliance in orbit above the desolate rock that was Yag’dhul. It was as if one was looking through a prism which accented every color and streaks of vibrant colors ran seamlessly across the canvas of the planet’s orbit. Smoldering plumes of thick smoke the lay idly adrift in the weightlessness of open space Flames of orange and yellow danced from breaches in hulls among stations and ships alike. And if the skirmish had not already been weighed heavily in the favor of the Confederate Forces, it certainly would soon.

 

A brilliant flash of blue-white light was quickly extinguished above the planet’s northern pole as the massive Fortressa descended toward the engagement below. Squadron upon squadron of fighter and bomber alike flooded out into the fabric of open space, flocking with a rehearsed symmetry toward the enemy, with targets already pre-designated in route to this very engagement. Landing craft followed shortly after, descending toward the planet’s surface below, each carrying a contingent of droids to aid in the surface battle occurring simultaneously with that of the orbit.

 

Not all of the landing craft would make it to the surface as several would undoubtedly be intercepted by the orbiting stations or surface to orbit fire, however the loss of a few droids was a small price to pay in return for the thousands, if not millions, that could be saved with a swift end to this skirmish. After all, this is why he’d been sent with the Fortressa. A quick end to this would likely be the simplest way to ensure the minimal amount of life lost here. The more lives that could be spared, the better.




#1950664 This! Is! Wroona! | CIS Dominion of Wroona

Posted by Alden Akaran on 03 June 2019 - 06:55 AM

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Location: Balcony (Overlooking Pits)

Attire: Service Dress Uniform (LINK)

ArmamentLightsaber (hidden)

Objective: II. Distract the Lords

Tags: Adron Malvern | Srina Talon | Krystal Estain | Hisashi | Anyone Else

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“High Marshal Akaran?” The inquiring voice was soft in nature, seeming nearly hushed as a dainty female approached the man from behind. She was dressed in what resembled something of a uniform dotted chaotically with ribbons and medals of various kinds which offered image perplexed in a riot of color. Large, polished insignias were emblazoned upon the lapels of her silken-looking coat. Her champagne-colored hair had been pulled back tightly into a bun that she’d obviously taken a considerable amount of time to fashion as not a single fiber of hair seemed to fly free of the bundle which protruded just beneath the seam of the eccentric cap which adorned her head. Her eyes were an amethyst hue, her lips a faded red.

 

She wasn’t like many of the other Wroonian types that dotted the balcony of brushed, stone tile. No, certainly not. Where many of the Wroonian Lords and delegates echoed the gluttonous obscenity presented by Lord Ashlan, this small woman reflected another side of Wroona. It was certainly a favorable side to that which had presented itself thus far.

 

Alden’s arms were crossed and pressed to his chest, even as the woman approached his, coming to a halt off his left flank. His gaze lay on the unfolding scene of the Pits as barbaric and archaic tradition would no doubt draw a rise from the crowd soon. As his gaze drifted across the coarse sand of the arena floor to the same brushed stone the line the boundary as a wall, his sapphire eyes took in the blood stained smudges of discoloration which told the tales of the thousands which had breathed their last breathes upon its very sands. Man and beasts alike. It was a vile and cruel sport which Alden would never understand. The thrill that riled a bloodthirsty crowd for the very lives of those who’d been enslaved for nothing more than their mere entertainment. Whether or not these men and women had volunteered to feed the unrelenting hunger of the crowd’s ire mattered little to him, as for him, it only called out to a barbaric and undeveloped age which he’d hoped would have been snuffed from existence by this point. To him, there was only one place for such uncivilized proceedings and that place was in the archives and historical texts. A place where one would be able to revel at just how far the greater galaxy had come.

 

“High Marshal Akaran?”

 

The voice came forth once more, pulling Alden away from his thoughts. His arms unclasped from in front of him and fell to his sides, where he then pivoted to his left in a counterclockwise fashion. His gaze fell downward to the petite figure of the woman garbed in that riotous appeal of a military service dress uniform.

 

“Yes,” he said, pausing for a moment and collecting his thoughts. His eyes closed briefly, opening a fleeting moment later. “I’m sorry, I was caught up in my thoughts.”

 

Alden extended his hand in the offer of a handshake.

 

“Admiral Hercchel.” Her hand reached out and accepted the handshake, gripping his hand in a far firmer manner than he would have expected the small woman to be able to muster. “It’s a pleasure to host one of The Confederacy’s finest.”

 

Alden released a short, and dismissive huff at her statement declaring him one of the Confederacy’s finest and he let go of the handshake. “Finest is quite the title to use,” he retorted. “There are many fine men and women in the Confederacy’s ranks. Who am I to hold myself above them? After all, it’s because of them that sit where I do today. I am nothing without them and I will not decree myself to be more than them.”

 

Alden motioned with a hand toward a collection of personnel dressed similarly to himself, wearing the formal uniform of the Confederate Navy’s ranks. “The day a leader believes themselves better than the men and women under their command, is the day they’ve lost site of what it means to command. Those under our command are the true heroes. Each and every leader would do well to remember that.”

 

He hadn’t been speaking in any manner as to berate or cast down the Admiral as she had attempted only to offer him a compliment, but he was strong in his feelings that he was nothing more than a product of the efforts of each and every person under his command. That was his leadership philosophy, and even if it was flawed, it’s what he held firmly to. 




#1950654 June's Member of the Month- Congrats Zark!

Posted by Alden Akaran on 03 June 2019 - 05:03 AM

Zark Congratulations! I promise, I did clean up before I left. Hope the bar is to your liking.

 

Irajah Ven Wait! You mean I wasn't supposed to take all the snacks with me when I "cleaned" up?




#1945733 Daylight [CIS Dominion of Bassadro]

Posted by Alden Akaran on 17 May 2019 - 07:33 PM

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Location: Above ground (Flying T-77 “Talon” Stealth Interceptor)

Attire: Flight Suit  (W/ Gloves & Helmet)

Weapons: Lightsaber, KC-95 “Ace of Spades” Blaster Pistol

Tags: Anyone is welcome to

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The skies above the planet were barren, filled only with a thick, black, ashen smoke which continued to billow forth from its surface as Bassadro continued to hemorrhage beneath him. Even out over the horizon, spouts of molten ore and rock were flung violently into the air as smaller eruptions continued to crack and morph the terrain. A truly terrifying series of events had ravaged this place and those that had called it home for so long. Now displaced and separated from what had once been so familiar to them, they were forced to overcome and as such the Confederacy was still here helping in the attempt to quell the savage brutality of the writhing planet.

 

Still, he flew over the surface, making sweep after sweep with an ever vigilant eye pressed to the displays within the cockpit as Talon’s sensors continued to scan the area, even puncturing down into hardening crust sulfuric crust where previously molten lava and begun to solidify as it cooled.

 

Another pass was coming to a close to the north of where the larger ground team had sought to assist the maligning villagers in this time of utter famine and catastrophe. But . . . but, something finally pinged back through to the ship. Something different and far beneath the desolate landscape he’d been perform his flyover of. Something quite unlike what he’d picked up on the sensors thus far.

 

But what?




#1945731 Intermission | CIS Dominion of Teyr

Posted by Alden Akaran on 17 May 2019 - 07:14 PM

Location: Teyr (Dance Floor; table off to side)

Attire: Service Dress Uniform

Armament: KS-95 "Ace of Spade" Blaster Pistol (hidden beneath jacket), Lightsaber (hidden beneath jacket)

Tags: Scherezade deWinter | Anyone Else

Post: 5

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Alden let out a small chuckle at the mention of the Navy crowd tending to stick together. He couldn’t deny the truth of that statement and it seemed to be true of any military member among any ruling authority in the galaxy. Something about the like-minded individuals getting on with each other just seemed natural. But in truth, Alden hadn’t exactly felt the same among the crowd of the Confederate Navy as he had once. Not since that life-defining moment between himself and the Exarch back on Geonosis. Something about playing the dual hatted role seemed to make him feel as though he both did, and didn’t, belong in either clique. Still though, he played into her comment toward him.

 

“Is that what they say? We Navy types just stick together?” There wasn’t any kind of seriousness in his voice as he continued to try and carry forth a playful and charismatic tone. There really was not reason for anything but.

 

He shrugged. “Guess I should go find my crowd then.” He smiled and watched for her reaction to see how she would take the joke in response to that comment. “And should I really come up with an excuse to talk with you?”




#1945284 Intermission | CIS Dominion of Teyr

Posted by Alden Akaran on 16 May 2019 - 06:12 AM

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Location: Teyr (Dance Floor)

Attire: Service Dress Uniform

Armament: KS-95 "Ace of Spade" Blaster Pistol (hidden beneath jacket), Lightsaber (hidden beneath jacket)

Tags: Scherezade deWinter | Anyone Else

Post: 4

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As strange as it was, Alden preferred the slower, more natural way of healing, not that he had much of a choice otherwise. He’d been born with a very rare condition where he had an allergy to kolto - a key part of the bacta tank healing process. It was simply something he’d come to be accustomed to and because of it, he had been forced to miss a great deal of time actively serving in his career. Unfortunate, sure, but he didn’t allow his condition to deter or slow him down in the long run. He forced a smile as he pushed through the pain that how now begun to subside, releasing his clutch on his ribs as he did so. “No liquor, huh? Can’t say I blame you; it can be quite the dangerous companion.” He released a hearty chuckled, acknowledging her statement. It hadn’t been too terribly long before he’d come to the Confederacy that he, too, had sworn off alcohol, but he’d doubled back on that decision once he’d joined up here.

 

He waved down the bartender as the two approached the bar. “Two tall glasses of fat cream. One with ice.” The Twi’lek gave nothing more than a simple head nod in acknowledgement to his order.

 

Glancing over, he turned his focus back to Scherezade as she gave him her name. “Alden,” would be his response. “Nice to officially meet you.”

 

A moment would pass before the Twi’lek returned with the two overly large glass in hand, giving them both to Alden before taking his credit chit from the counter to process the transaction. Turning, he extended the glass that had the ice to Scherezade. “I believe this would be yours.”




#1943570 Intermission | CIS Dominion of Teyr

Posted by Alden Akaran on 11 May 2019 - 01:02 AM

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Location: Teyr (Dance Floor)

Attire: Service Dress Uniform

Armament: KS-95 "Ace of Spade" Blaster Pistol (hidden beneath jacket), Lightsaber (hidden beneath jacket)

Tags: Scherezade deWinter | Anyone Else

Post: 3

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There seemed to be a sort of uneasiness between the two as they carried about their exchange. Alden hadn’t exactly returned to his old self yet - still recuperating from the plethora of injuries he’d befallen weeks before - and it seemed his rescuer, whose name he didn’t actually know, wasn’t exactly the social butterfly herself. Funny had life had a way of bringing people together in the most peculiar of ways.

 

Around them, it seemed as though the patrons hadn’t even noticed the two of them simply standing in the middle of the dance floor. Just having a simple conversation to this point, no matter how awkward that seemed seemed to be going. Hell, Alden hadn’t even been paying attention to them either as they danced their choreographed movements around them. The music, itself, had seemed to just fall into nothing more than a slight murmur in the background. At least until he was forced back to the here and now when someone collided with him from behind. The impact caused him to stumble forward a step and unfortunately in the path of Scherezade as she started talking about the drink she wanted. He exerted a slight groan and a grimace etched its way over his face. His hand reached to his right side where the three ribs he had fractured before were still recovering. His eyes closed tightly for a moment and his teeth ground together before his attention returned fully to Scherezade as she asked “What do you think…

 

“I apologize, but I didn’t catch that.” He was still in obvious discomfort as he spoke, even as his hand was released from his ribs. “Care to tell me again?”




#1943283 Intermission | CIS Dominion of Teyr

Posted by Alden Akaran on 10 May 2019 - 05:58 AM

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Location: Teyr (Dance Floor)

Attire: Service Dress Uniform

Armament: KS-95 "Ace of Spade" Blaster Pistol (hidden beneath jacket), Lightsaber (hidden beneath jacket)

Tags: Scherezade deWinter | Anyone Else

Post: 2

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By this point, Alden had awkwardly come to a stop in the center of the dance floor. It wasn’t as if he was trying to stir up a scene or anything, he had just wanted to come and formally meet the woman that was among the team that had saved him some time ago. The very woman that had spared the Exarch, Adron Malvern, the hassles of combing through legions of candidates to simply find one potential replacement. Not that the man would have felt any particular way about. Afterall, he and Alden were very different in their particular outlooks on life and the Force. Perhaps it would have saved the man an incessant headache had he not been found there on Umgul. Even his recent elevation to High Marshall couldn’t spare him the fact that he was indeed replaceable.

 

He gave the woman a calming nod as an uncomfortable smile carved its way across his face. His hands and arms relaxed momentarily before he extended one in the offer of a handshake. “I’m sure there are,” he replied, acknowledging her assumption of there likely being a plethora of Confederates here. Many of those around them likely held some form of tie or allegiance to the Confederacy, but it was a big place. Its reach had grown, even in his short time here. Its influence reaching deeper and further away from where it had been birthed from so long ago. With that meant a lot of faces. Both new and old. And it would be impossible to have a familiarity with them all. Hell, it was likely there were more here that knew who he was than he knew simply because of the nature of his position in the CDF and his outwardly appearing closeness to the Exarch. That was indeed likely to draw the notoriety of those around and it meant it was impossible for him to blend in any longer.

 

Not as he once had so long ago when he was nothing more to the Confederacy than a simple pilot. Before his life had been flipped upside down and a new purpose ushered upon his destined path.

 

“But it is impossible to really know, is it not?” The question was intended to be more redundant in nature than anything else. Just wanting to get the woman thinking a little bit. A moment would pass before he would shift his weight slightly and speak once again. “Can I buy you a drink,” he said through a serious, yet sincere, expression. “As a thank you for everything you did for me.”




#1942257 May's MotM - Congratulations Alden Akaran!

Posted by Alden Akaran on 07 May 2019 - 09:17 PM

Marina DeVoe

 

Thanks




#1942200 May's MotM - Congratulations Alden Akaran!

Posted by Alden Akaran on 07 May 2019 - 05:08 PM

Cay-Yo

 

Suuuuure. That still doesn't explain the Gizka droppings everywhere. Although now I am wondering why Thorne didn't clean those up in his time here.




#1941647 Intermission | CIS Dominion of Teyr

Posted by Alden Akaran on 06 May 2019 - 06:31 AM

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Location: Teyr (Dance Floor)
Armament: KS-95 "Ace of Spade" Blaster Pistol (hidden beneath jacket), Lightsaber (hidden beneath jacket)
Tags: Scherezade deWinter | Anyone Else
 
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So much had happened in recent months. Hell, even recent weeks. Even now, Alden still hadn’t fully recovered from the misfortunate that had overcome the Valiant and her crew. A tragedy that had nearly cost the man his life just weeks earlier. It wasn’t long ago that Alden thought himself done for. Lost in the mist that thickly blanketed that quaint world of Umgul. He held completely faith and certainty that had it not been for the efforts of Ek Vilibro Griz and Scherezade deWinter, that Umgul would have become that fated resting place when he still had so much left to experience and take on in life. 
 
But there wasn’t any reason to really dwell in the past. Learn from it, certainly. But mulling over what could have been solved no problems. No. All that would do would be to create more of them.
 
So tonight he found himself on Teyr, at what seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be a merry gathering. Music rang out of the concourse and the makeshift dance floor that had been erected was flooded with beings of all shapes, sizes and species alike. Among them was a face that had become all too familiar in recent weeks to him, and although he couldn’t see the all too distinguishing glowing green eyes hidden beneath her eyelids, she, herself, was unmistakable. It was Scherezade deWinter, one of the very two people that had saved him just weeks prior. And act he felt he would not ever be able to thank the two for enough. 
 
He closed his eyes and let loose and long and controlled exhale as he gathered himself before quickly downing the rest of the drink he held in hand. He set it down on the table, its contents now empty, and stepped forward, patting down and straightening out the bulk of the service blues that hugged to his body; the new rank he would upon his lapel seemed to have an extra shine to it as cascading lights reflected off its polished, metallic surface.
 
As he approached her [Scherezade], he raised his hands disarmingly, elbows bent. It was partially as a joke as he witnessed her fend the two strangers off from earlier, but more so simply out of respect for her own personal space. He bowed his head slightly and spoke. “Nice to see a familiar face around here for a change.”



#1941035 Lost in the Mist

Posted by Alden Akaran on 04 May 2019 - 07:36 AM

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Location: Umgul ('Valiant' Crash Site)

Tags: Scherezade deWinter | Ek Vilibro Griz | Talon Rahl

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He turned and began back toward the shore, angry with himself and his failure, and how he’d failed the men and woman at his command. As much as he would have loved to have beaten himself up for this, there was nothing productive that would come doing so.  For now, he needed to refocus his thought to finding food and surviving.

 

Alden allowed his eyes to fall once again upon the field of torment and destruction. The burning wreckage of a life of which he had no idea of whether he’d be able to return to. He only hoped and pleaded that his actions and the final orders he’d given had given those very men and woman the chance to survive. The chance to return to normalcy. Or a sense of it at least. He was but one; they were the many. He shifted his weight casually, turning his mind now from his throbbing head and looking toward what might be coming next.

 

He approached the solemn site of what had once been the Valiant, tears forming in his eyes. The ever-heavier weight of his depression sagging his shoulders more and more with each passing moment. A brief flicker of movement caught his eye and he saw a man painfully pulling himself from the wreckage. The agony of his cries expressing the ceaseless pain he suffered through. His life was fleeing him and the site cause Alden’s heart to sink even more – something he didn’t know was even possible at this point.

 

He rushed to the man, pushing through the pain and disorientation and coughing vehemently as the smoke from the wreckage filled his lungs. By the time he made it to the man, it was too late. The screams had stopped and the scarred and blistered face was unidentifiable. This had been a man that had served him and who he had served in return. This man had passed outside the embrace of those he loved. Had died on a world where his memory would not be cherished. That burden was on him now and he ran his hand gently over the man’s face, allowing his fingers to shut the man’s eyes for him. The grief was huge and he wished there were something he could have done to save the man. Even trade his life for theirs, but he couldn’t change that now. However, he wasn't the one to let the ones who'd already passed on to move to a better life go without a prayer. His gaze shot to the sky and then back to the man whom had now passed on, completely oblivious to the appearance of the large ship that had emerged overhead in orbit to the planet.

 

Alden spoke a blessing, a gentle, heartfelt prayer, for the man and brushed the tears from his face. This death was on his shoulders. He was to blame for this. His life had been Alden’s responsibility and Alden had failed to adhere to that. Alden felt himself the failure. It was undeniable to him and that could not be changed.




#1940994 Daylight [CIS Dominion of Bassadro]

Posted by Alden Akaran on 04 May 2019 - 02:09 AM

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Location: Above ground (Flying T-77 “Talon” Stealth Interceptor)

Attire: Flight Suit  (W/ Gloves & Helmet)

Weapons: LightsaberKC-95 “Ace of Spades” Blaster Pistol

Tags: Anyone is welcome to

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Tragedy had seemingly stricken this planet as death tolls continued to climb in the wake of such disaster. Where once the occasional disappearance of a lone miner had been all that troubled the people here in a time after war after war had threatened to tear the planet apart, the vanishings were becoming ever more present and the numbers of people lost growing to staggering numbers. Their desperate plea for aid had caught the Confederacy’s ear, but that hadn’t been what had called the pilot here. No, certainly not. What had called Alden here was the unimaginable eruption of the Agao Ranges which now threatened to consume his own people beneath the planet’s surface as Bassabro bathed the villages in a torrent of fire and molten rock.

 

The planet cried out in anguish and it’s people too. Thousands, if not more, seemed to cling to the last glimmer of hope that those trapped underground would find their way home. That even as the planet, itself, bled, that those that were loved and cherished by others would find a way to remain unharmed. That even as they were buried among mountains of soot and ash and blanketed in a thick black smoke, they would remain strong to the end.

 

But Alden hadn’t been called here to dig a path to those buried beneath the molten surface here. He hadn’t been given orders to consul the grieving children nor the plethora of newfound widows. No. Neither of those objectives had been handed out to him. Instead, he was here for a different purpose.

 

Alden had but one mission. A mission which he flew in absence of Saber Squadron. He was to fly overhead here and see what he could find. See if there was anything around to fuel the teetering glimmer of hope that hung heavy in people’s hearts here. Just the smallest sliver of something that might suggest the whereabouts of those trapped below. Something. Anything. Just the chance that they lived and could be saved. And as he flew over the planet, he searched the fracture valleys and smoldering rock and reached out through the Force to try and feel for the presence of his Master, Adron Malvern.

 

The Mark of Malthas emblazoned upon the underside of his forearm burned, yet he could feel nothing.

 

Even the advanced sensor suite of his ship reached forth, trying to pinpoint anything that might indicate life beneath the surface, yet was not able to capture anything. It was like the very crust of Bassadro presented and wall of dead space which negated both the Force and his ship’s sensors.

 

Still, though, Alden pressed on, clinging to that hope he’d be able to find someone. Or something.




#1940927 May's MotM - Congratulations Alden Akaran!

Posted by Alden Akaran on 03 May 2019 - 07:46 PM

Cay-Yo

 

Thanks! You know you still got bandages around this place? And why didn't you clean up after Lancelot?