Orbital Companions

[Cassus Akovin]

Some mud-ball in the sky...​

​

It was not often that Triam Akovin was wrapped into a mercenary contract these days, and even more rarely, wrapped up into a contract where other mercenaries are involved. Perhaps it was her self inflated ego, and strong confidence in her technological superiority, but for a long time now she had been a mercenary who was hired as an individual to lead one's troops, or to act as a lone agent to sabotage enemy efforts, sometimes a mix of both.

She wasn't expecting to be part of a small army of other mercenaries, and that sounded dangerous to her. She could always trust her own motives, knowing full well she intended to fulfill her contract for the allotted amount she agreed to risk her life over... but how serious were these other mercenaries? Were the poor rabble potentially throwing their lives away for a bit of coin that might make it to some starving family? Were they so dishonorable that they were paid by both sides, and waits to see which will win so as to know who to betray?

The most likely answer though, was that Triam was old, jaded, and paranoid. Droids were much easier to work with for her, for a variety of reasons. For one thing, you were always certain they were loyal to you, and if they weren't you could tell and check easily enough. You can't shut down and reboot a man. Though life would be easier if you could. There is also no consequence in destroying a droid... the same can not be said for killing a man, whether or not he is traitorous.

Nonetheless, she found herself on some sort orbital skiff. A ship more advanced the atmospheric jets, but less advanced than the starships that dart across the galaxy. It was a transit system between the mud-ball and its nearly identical moon. In fact from space they were almost the same planet, but I heard some of the other mercenaries say the moon wasn't as dense as the mudball, keeping a stable orbit between them. From what she could discern from the politics, the Moon Faction and the Mudball faction have never been very friendly with one another. It began as some sort of scandal of sovereignty between one of them being the 'motherland', but she couldn't figure out which one was the motherland and so far it looked like they couldn't agree either. Nonetheless, when an argument between nations start one thing leads to another and war happens, and as they get more upset with one another after every bout of war it only spirals into deeper hatred. War crimes on both sides collect, and whoever seemed right before is just as wrong as the other guys. In the end, while both parties were probably hiring mercenaries (due to a dwindling supply of their own soldiers after years of fighting)... the moon got to Triam Akovin first.

They also got to the person sitting next to her on the skiff en route to the Mudball planet below.

"I've been in morally ambiguous battles before," Geonosis flashed in her mind, seeing her former friend (and unrealized infatuation) battling on the opposite side to her own. "... but I don't think I've ever fought in a war where both sides seem to acknowledge neither of them really know what they are doing or why they are fighting. How much they paying you, anyway?" It was an innocent enough question. This was, after all, a business venture. She honestly wasn't sure if she was getting a good deal out of this, and decided to compare and contrast with the nearest other mercenary.

She probably didn't realize the impact her words might have on her hired compatriot next to her.

[member="Farlon Orbit"]

 

[Farlon Orbit]

Grim set, Orbit stared blankly in the compartment that held all the mercenaries. This was almost indifferent from any other conflict he had been contracted for, maybe a bunch of angry neighbors who have had it, or a squabble over what idiot should lead a failing government, they were all the same. Obviously this war had been drawing out to a stalemate in warfare, thereby needing the cheap man power provided by poor gunmen across the galaxy on their last dime. Let them be the canon fodder to waste the enemy's ammunition enough for the politicians to decide that an unstable peace to last a few years before they were at it again. But those were big thoughts for such a small person, Orbit himself cared less for them than any other would.

The rifle in front of him glistened in contrast to his scuffed and scratched silver armor somewhat hazily placed over a cloak. The DC-15a was all he had carried with him from his former life, the rest hidden away in storage on a planet far far away. Training drilled into him could only be over ridden so much, Orbit reverently kept his rifle in good condition, it was an extension of himself, and he treated as such. His thoughts were interrupted by his own neighbor sitting right next to him in the skiff. Orbit stiffly turned to her and replied, "Not enough most likely. Not that it matters to me, I've seen enough action to lose interest in their petty reasons. I lost my trust in the galaxy a long time ago,"

Orbit stared deeply into [member="Triam Akovin"]'s eyes, "I suggest you do the same."

 

[Cassus Akovin]

"I can understand being disaffected by the politics of the galaxy, but I can tell you one thing: the affairs of the galaxy can always be trusted... to be absolute crap." Despite her smart assery, Triam couldn't help but feel empathetic towards those eyes... so distraught with pain and sorrow, and it reminded her of someone. A mandalorian she knew, a mandalorian she made a promise to.

Was she breaking that promise?

She noticed his choice of weapon, and made an inquisitive face. She was familiar with most modern weapons, but couldn't place what make or model this one was. Well, there were very many blasters out there, and the technology at its core had never really changed. Nonetheless, they all had minor alterations and improvements over previous models... though nowadays they were honestly more aesthetic changes, or sticking in foreign or exotic technologies on the side to make it flashier.

The simplicity of this design though, in a sort of contradictory manner, set it apart. I reminded her of her own simple blaster rifle, issued to her so long ago by the now collapsed Republic. May it rest in its bureaucratic shambles. Although these days she seemed to favour her Verpine Shatter Sniper Rifle. It was an old design but it was effective.

"What kind of blaster is that? I don't recognize it, is it a new make?" She knew it wasn't a new make, it looked well used. New weapons are never this used, even if it had been extremely well maintained as the spectacle was before her. Nonetheless, it was subtle enough means of inquiring about her compatriots past. It was something to pass the time before ground fall.

They had entered the enemy atmosphere.

[member="Farlon Orbit"]

 

[Farlon Orbit]

Orbit turned his head back to the spot on the inner hull he had been viewing quite intently before he had engaged in the conversation. This one was young, had ideas and opinions open to share. The old soldier could remember when such feelings would be shared by his fellow comrades whilst away from action. Such aspects were lost on Orbit, he'd either had it drilled it out of him in training, or too many a fire fights had scarred him, for whatever reason, it was no where to be found.

This one was surely talkative. Next it was a question about his rifle, his beaten and battered DC-15A Blaster rifle. Had she seen some things. Although it had gone in disrepair over the hundreds of years he had been frozen, he had managed to fix it enough to last a few more years. "It's far from new, a DC-15A blaster rifle. You may have seen it in a holovid from history class when you were back in school." The old mercenary cocked the rifle as the transport had entered the atmosphere, "I can give you a demonstration of what this baby can do, if you stick around."

[member="Triam Akovin"]

OOC

Spoiler

Really sorry for the lateness of my reply, with Omega and RL reasons I had almost no time to reply.