'Greetings, Imperials.... Glad you're all settled down, nothing stopping the mayhem when we're done here though, by all means - but our defiant Empire takes dedicated precedence first an' foremost.', making eye-contact with the front of the three-ranks-deep formation of soldiers, airmen and Imperial Knights of every sort. Watching for every collective's reaction as they stood in all their separate segments in the line, Lord Erskine continued,'And as people are so quick to forget, that same dedication was needed to attain the sort of defiance that forged our Empire in the first place!', lifting his posture from within the hoverchair to lift his face even farther above the microphone.
'Our efforts were dedicated almost twenty years ago, were they not? Dedicated as one in our revolt against the Sith Empire and all who decreed against us, toppling giants as we went.... An' for as long as we persist, I guarantee that each and every salvo we send declares the realm: ETERNALLY DEFIANT!!!!'
Sharply standing at attention at the back of his line, he dared not to make even the slightest sound as the Lord-Regent’s words rang sharp within the gala hall; following not long after The Steward of the Imperium’s opening speech, it was made crystal clear as to why they were all gathered here.
'Some of you ponder the meaning of your presence in parade-formation here, so I'll keep it simple by saying that some among you will carry entirely new ranks before the ceremony is done! But before I get on with the promotions, I believe it pertinent to bestow impromptu awards on a particularly brave individual first.'
A promotion ceremony, in which the men and women under the service of The Empire, those of whom their deeds deemed worthy of praise and reward, would be bestowed such honors by the Lord-Regent
himself!
Curiosity was quick to take over the fear that once gripped the young man’s heart; who amongst his formation would be awarded? Although he assumed that’d be revealed to them all and soon, he knew not at the moment as he stood at the back of his unit’s formation. To him, he was
just another young face in uniform amongst a whole
crowd of men and women similar; there was no way he’d be singled out for anything. As much as he felt the apprehension rise steeply within him, whenever the Lord-Regent casted even a brief moment’s glance towards his general direction as the ceremony continued onward, he was mostly calm.
'First on the list, representing Galidraan - Brigadier-Generals Tarring and Gowrie. And from SCAR Squadron, Master-Sergeant Vaiken along with Sergeants Liaeris and Stevens. We'll also have Sergeant Dakari of the Imperial Police Force and lastly, of the 313th Legion, Corporal Mannarra.... ALL NAMES MENTIONED, TAKE THREE PACES BEYOND THE FRONT RANK!!!!'
Until he heard his name called out by the Lord-Regent himself; his name was amongst the seven of which were called forth.
Was this some kind of mistake!?
Eyes wide as saucers, his heart skipped a beat as his mind attempted at processing the man’s words; although his mind was preoccupied with the aforementioned task, his body acted out of protocol and in full compliance of the Imperial Army’s regulations and protocols like a well oiled and maintained machine. At the man’s command the young crewman was quick to remove the Corporal’s rank strip insignia from his uniform; at sharp turns and movements, the young man stepped out of his unit’s formation, and marched beyond the front row at a crisp, leisurely march.
Coming to a halt and sharply standing at attention at the far end of the horizontal line at ranking order, his gaze lingered on an imaginary speck of dust just a handbreadth away forth from his visage, it wasn’t for long until he was just less than a handful feet away from the currently hover-chairbound Lord-Regent when the man stood before him.
'And now, for the last promotion today, I present a Sabretooth tank-operator who acquitted himself admirably on Ilum.... And though his commander watches on in civilian clothing, I can still see the pride for Corporal Hall Mannarra there. For no longer is the young man a Corporal, this Sabretooth-Trooper is now a Sergeant, rising through the ranks as he ought to!'
As the Lord-Regent announced his promotion and named the deeds that earned him the bestowment of these awards and
honors, the kid moved not an inch even as his heart pounded
wildly against his chest; the idea of being in the same room with the Lord-Regent
himself aside, he never thought he’d be granted the opportunity to be face to face with the man. The commanding aura of the Imperium’s Steward was
unmistakeable; the young man did not doubt for even a brief moment that if he ever so desired, the command in the man’s words alone would be sufficient to
will a man to life and back up on his feet.
The newly promoted crewman, now elevated to the position what his fellow brother-in-arms held before his grave injury, raised his right hand sharply to the rim of his black tanker’s beret, performing a crisp,
textbook salute as the Lord-Regent reached forth and pinned the new rank strip onto his chest; he couldn’t help but notice the man’s gaze lingered on his young visage, a brief moment longer than the rest.
'Alright, let us draw this ceremony to it's natural conclusion, shall we?.... NAVAL CADRE, IMPAF CADRE - WILL MOVE TO THE RIGHT, IN THREES - FAAAAAALL OUT!!!!'
Lowering his hand from the brim of his beret, the kid performed a right face, and dispersed in an orderly fashion with the rest, adhering to procedure and protocols to the dot; his exhilaration lingered as his heart continued to beat against his chest. Exhilarated, surprised and confused, he found himself wandering for a brief moment, trying to understand what had earned him all this.
As much as he was deeply honored, he did not at all think highly of what he had done on the frozen landscape of Ilum that day; he merely performed his duties in battle, as was expected of any fighting man or woman underarms.
He’d be lying if he said he was not humbled by this gesture.
"Congratulation, Sir Hall!" congratulated Keylee to Hall with a sweet smile and felt genuine happiness for the man, even though they had only not long ago.
Hearing the familiar voice of the Cadet, close to him, he was allowed to ponder no further for the moment as the girl extended him a congratulation. Turning his visage to face hers, a faint grin pulled at his lips as she continued to speak.
"It was really nice meeting you, Sir Hall. Good luck with your career~ and don't be a stranger." saluted the girl with a wide cheery grin, which made her cheeks puff a bit due to her grin.
The grin taking hold of his young features grew to a smile at her continued teasing, referring to him with the title of “Sir” as much as he had expressed her not to. The young Tank Commander’s lips parted to voice a response, intending to thank her, but a stern yet friendly slap onto his back had him recoiling forthward in surprise. Turning around, his visage shifted onto none other than Kale; their brawny loader, Stege, was not far behind.
”So, do we have to call you Corporal Commander Mannarra now?” he quipped at him with a snicker.
”Just Mannarra will do,” the young TC responded with a chuckle of his own. Gently shouldering Kale aside, Stege -their loader- pulled the young man towards himself and wrapped him in a bear-hug.
”My man!” Returning the brotherly gesture, the young TC hugged him back without muttering a word; he did not need to, as his heartfelt smile was an expression enough. Pulling back from the brawny Loader’s heartfelt embrace, the young man’s gaze lingered on the both of them.
”Any news from Kenth?” he asked them.
”He’s on the path to a lengthy recovery,” Kale answered, leaning his elbow against Stege’s shoulder.
”I think they’ll assign him to headquarters company,” The Loader continued.
”Somewhere he would not see action.”
”We got to pay him a visit,” the TC remarked at a cheerful tone, but a mild hint of sorrow underlied his words. The man he now succeeded had given all of them much needed direction in battle. They had survived the worst battles they faced in their lives thanks to his leadership.
He had big shoes to fill now. The lives of his subordinates -no, his fellow brothers-in-arms- were under
his care and leadership from tonight and onwards.
He would not let him down.
”Of course,” Stege would be quick to concur.
”But one thing at a time, brother! Now come on, let’s pay the MP’s over there a visit,” he continued with a grin, gesturing at the men of the 908th with a nod of his head.
”Kenth had promised them a round of beers for saving our asses on Ilum. Gotta thank ‘em,”
The young TC gave a fervent nod of his head with a heartfelt smile.
”Alright, let’s go!”
”Yyyeeeheeee!!! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” he cheered with a massive grin, enthusiastically patting the giant’s shoulder.
”I’ll gather up the boys, meet you there!” with that the young Driver was soon to disappear amongst the crowd, headed to a corner of the gala hall where their platoon drank and conversed.
”Come on, let’s get going,” the giant encouraged him as he moved besides the TC and placed his hand at his back, gently pushing him forward.
Looking back from over his shoulder as he took a step and walked beside the giant, he was about to call for the Cadet to tag along with them for a good beer or two, something they could
actually drink and not have a coughing fit every few seconds, but he would be surprised to see her gone. He could not even pick her silhouette amongst the crowd.
He couldn’t even get her name.
With a mildly tristful expression, he shifted his gaze forward once more, thinking not much of it as they moved amongst the crowd, moving towards the MP’s of the 908th on the other side of the gala hall.
Celebrating each other for their promotions and awards bestowed upon them by the Lord-Regent, and extending their deep gratitude towards the brave men and women of the 908th for saving them from that ambush, they would drink in remembrance of the brave brothers and sisters-in-arms they had regrettably lost over the frozen wastes of Ilum.
-=Exit Thread=-
