Kainan Wolfe
Shadow of War
Post #5
Objective: Deal with the aftermath
Equipment: Shroud of Desolation | Personal Molecular Shield | Wither | The Triad | The Shrouded Blade | The All-Seeing Eye
Attn: [member="Tellu Talon"] | [member="Srina Talon"]
- Dojo
Hoylin, near the lake
His eyes were still vacantly staring at the objects in his hand. Such cold, lifeless things, these dog tags were. Pieces of metal on a chain, with a few names written on them. Names who's families he would have to write to, explaining to them why was it that their sons, brothers and fathers died, that their lives had been sacrificed because some reckless hypocritical Jedi could not control her impulses and had to let arrogance make her decisions, instead of logic and reason.
Tacitus was a hard man, as was the way of his nation. He had seen the worst things the galaxy had to offer and had both caused and witnessed so much death, that it was impossible to keep count of it all. He understood and accepted death in combat as simply a part of a soldier's life, he even respected and honored it. There was nothing greater than sacrifice in service of a greater cause. Some evils, such as death, torture and a thousand other atrocities, were necessary and thus, justified, as they served a greater purpose and there was simply no better option to choose from.
Service, he understood. Dedication to a higher purpose, even at the cost of one's soul, brought with it true freedom. The freedom from base, animal impulse, from the mindless pursuits of momentary satisfaction at the cost of all else, the freedom to choose to give life meaning, instead of drifting along in a meaningless life without purpose or direction. He despised selfish, hedonistic pursuits of pleasure and momentary satisfaction. He despised impulsiveness and lack of self-control, of discipline. Above all, he despised senseless cruelty and death.
So he could not even bear to look at the motionless form of the woman lying on the gurney, as what she did went against everything he believed in and fought for. Her actions only reinforced his belief that philosophies such as hers needed to be eradicated at all costs, before they plunged the entire galaxy into anarchy, chaos and destruction. His fingers closed around the dog tags in his hand, clenching into a fist. His talons pierced his skin, painting the dull metal a glistening red, but he did not care, or even notice. Instead, he absently uttered a whisper as the rage coursed through him. "Fifteen minutes," he said to the empty air. "I just needed fifteen minutes. And none of this would have happened."
His musings were cast away by a voice, Srina's voice. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and in that moment, his composure shattered, leaving behind only the rage and lonely sorrow of a man who had been weighed down by the horrors, cruelty and injustice of a broken galaxy. There was something almost pleading in his unnatural, feline eyes, some buried longing for compassion and companionship that had suddenly and savagely dug its way to the surface, yet he did not give voice to whatever thoughts lay behind that look in his eyes. He could not bring himself to, even now.
Instead, he simply nodded. "Take the dropship," he spoke with a tired voice. "And anything else you need. I am sorry I can't do anything more."