12-17-2020, 03:03 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-17-2020, 03:03 AM by Korstyn Steele.)
(12-17-2020, 01:50 AM)DM Vitkyng Wrote: "Hmm oh.. I.. uh.. I don't know anymore. They're gonna kill me.. oh not these people.. the Empire. Forever now my face will be on Imperial databases as a deserter. Deserters are killed. It won't matter that I didn't truly desert, that I had no choice but to surrender. It was a lost fight, there was no one but me and a useless astromech left. And what for.. so I could help some creepy ISB agent fly arouynd with his person squad of troopers making all us good Navy personnel shit ourselves for fear we might draw his attention as 'disloyal'."
He seems to be opening up, forgetting that he is talking to a faceless helmet.
"And what for? To bring order to these backwaters? They don't want us here.. they are just drekking farmers, or miners, digging in worthless mudballs. I haven't seen Coruscant in 4 years. I joined to e a TIE pilot, and look at me, a glorified yacht pilot. I signed up to do something. Instead I end up assigned to the butcher of Valkine IV."
You realize that the entrire ship has gone quiet listening to him, moments later so does he, and instantly clams up.
Korstyn lets the silence hang for a few moments, as if considering the rapid expulsion of words he just blurted out that don't actually mean anything to her. He was an Imperial, and Imperials didn't particularly show much interest in her kind, other than to look down on them. But since he was now a 'deserter' in word only, she isn't sure how much to trust him. She didn't trust him any more or less than the rest of the current occupants of this poor excuse for an oversized escape pod. But...
She shrugs and reaches up, unclasping the helm of her Beskar'gam, then slowly pulls it off her head, allowing her elbow-length red hair to fall out in cascades. She places the item on her lap and reaches up to run a hand ruffling through the tangles her helm always gave her. Looking back at the black helmet of the Imperial fighter pilot who learned first-hand just how unfair life truly is are a pair of piercing, icy blue eyes sitting above high cheekbones on a face that is as neutral as they come.
"No one ever gets what they want out of the Galaxy. No one."
