Gabriel Sionoma
Sheriff of Sulon
IsisInvestigation into Kallisto Mining Company
A DY-225 Heavy Blaster Pistol, a GLX Firelance, a lightsaber, and a particularly fired up Mirialan. These were the weapons of this mission, some more prevalent then others. Ever since his arrival on Sullust, he had been reactionary to the terrors of the universe. Given the opportunity to make some change, when not shackled or collared, he was largely sitting and waiting for things to happen. This mission, it lied somewhere beyond that. Intelligence, long ago provided to Chevu, had afforded a glimpse into the workings of a particular mining company. Purchasing and using slaves for labor, atrocities committed within the mines. Something Chevu couldn't abide, something Gabriel wouldn't, they agreed to seek out the truth in the time that came after her step back from the violent missions on the front lines of the Galactic Alliance. That time had come and here they sat, on a freighter, The Sleight of Hand, in route to the planet.
He looked down the rifling of the weapon, making sure he had the necessary ammunition and anticipating a particular need for this weapon to actually do the task it was assigned. He had taken a liking to the weapon, ever since his mission with Jacen, where stun settings were the demand. But even with that, these weapons were deadly with the properly placed shot. The very same could be said of the blaster pistol, sitting in a holster on his right leg. Beneath the armorweave robe and the War-Torn Armor, the weapons would be concealed adequately as he took on the appeal of a wandering Brigand, the sort armed with the force and a lightsaber and a love for the mother of his children.
But they had gone over that, time and time before, and it still left the water murky. But it was water nonetheless and he waded through it, given purpose for the skilled force user he was. As capable as his brother and likely more committed to the results. He still may not be trusted entirely by the Alliance, but he was afforded his time and life away from the cold of a prison cell. A small apartment, nothing grand, but it had a wonderful changing view of the world against a holo-screen. He could cook, he could read, and he could think over the actions he had committed. Every time he helped with something like this, he felt a buffering wind smack against the brass trophy of his past. Bodies collected, souls extinguished, he did what he could to wash away the guilt and embrace the memory that those people should have had.
But now, there was an opportunity to save people, to prevent the same mistakes he had taken part in. And he'd jump at the chance, even if it was merely for the spot as muscle in the group. The brain child laying at the feet of the Mirialan, he waited quietly in the YT-1300 for their arrival at the spaceport. He had fond memories of this place, the taint of the actions washing away with the time and dilution of regret. He wasn't that man. That was his brother. Gabriel was better. His life would be spent proving that.
[member="Chevu Visz"]
