Trident Officer
It had been quite a while since I'd last returned to Bastion, our old home the home of the Diarchy. And there was a good reason for that. Now that the Diarchy was gone, the place simply looked as though everyone had gone back to their normal lives, almost as if we'd never existed in the first place. Funny how everything eventually turns out to be temporary. What wasn't temporary, however, was the amount of work waiting for us.
That was exactly why I'd asked for some outside help. Even with my own ship, the Trident, there was no way I was moving all this crap by myself. Honestly, I wasn't even convinced the ship could carry everything in a single trip. There was so much equipment scattered around that this wasn't really about moving a few belongings anymore; we were practically relocating an entire facility. Of course, I'd already started transferring the most sensitive and troublesome equipment, but that still left all the smaller things, secondary equipment, crates upon crates of medical reports, and everything else we'd managed to accumulate over the years. None of it was going to move itself, despite the droids already working around the clock.
That was how I eventually found myself sitting at the terrace of a restaurant on Bastion, enjoying a rather pleasant view of what used to be the Diarchy's Sith Academy. Those were the good days. I could still remember spending hours upon hours training inside that building. Every now and then, I'd entertain myself by making unnecessarily spectacular departures with my ship, while the Mistress somehow never ran out of things for me to do. Now that I was free, I had to find my own ways to keep myself busy, and honestly? I was doing a pretty good job of it.
My scientific projects were moving forward, slowly but surely. Granted, I'd also spent quite a lot of time helping Lyssara with her own research. Her jealousy was going to be the death of us someday. All it took was for her to see my new toy before she immediately decided she had to make something better. And now we had to improve everything else to compensate. Typical Lyssara.
While waiting for my appointment, I was practically sprawled across the table. I'd already ordered myself a drink a Corellian whisky. Nothing better if the goal was to get properly drunk. Seriously, what? I never claimed to be professional, especially considering the subject I was about to discuss. Judging by the profile of the person I was waiting for, though, I doubted professionalism was going to be much of an issue.
"Well... guess all that's left is to wait. Cheers to me in the meantime."
I raised my glass and took a sip, letting my thoughts wander again as I placed my datapad on the table beside me. It was an old model, another thing I'd eventually have to replace. Maybe I'd ask ADA Corp to make me a new one. Now that ADA had his own company, it would be a shame not to take advantage of it a little. And while I was at it, a better sniper rifle wouldn't exactly hurt either. I needed equipment and time. Lots of both.
I wasn't exactly trying to hide, either. Sitting outside on the restaurant terrace left me in plain sight, and I wasn't particularly difficult to recognize with my green skin and pointed ears. Yeah, I'm a Mirialan. I know.
"The old time miss me. Where is everyone?"
I watching the level of Corellian whisky drop at a rather concerning pace.
Jacero Savi
That was exactly why I'd asked for some outside help. Even with my own ship, the Trident, there was no way I was moving all this crap by myself. Honestly, I wasn't even convinced the ship could carry everything in a single trip. There was so much equipment scattered around that this wasn't really about moving a few belongings anymore; we were practically relocating an entire facility. Of course, I'd already started transferring the most sensitive and troublesome equipment, but that still left all the smaller things, secondary equipment, crates upon crates of medical reports, and everything else we'd managed to accumulate over the years. None of it was going to move itself, despite the droids already working around the clock.
That was how I eventually found myself sitting at the terrace of a restaurant on Bastion, enjoying a rather pleasant view of what used to be the Diarchy's Sith Academy. Those were the good days. I could still remember spending hours upon hours training inside that building. Every now and then, I'd entertain myself by making unnecessarily spectacular departures with my ship, while the Mistress somehow never ran out of things for me to do. Now that I was free, I had to find my own ways to keep myself busy, and honestly? I was doing a pretty good job of it.
My scientific projects were moving forward, slowly but surely. Granted, I'd also spent quite a lot of time helping Lyssara with her own research. Her jealousy was going to be the death of us someday. All it took was for her to see my new toy before she immediately decided she had to make something better. And now we had to improve everything else to compensate. Typical Lyssara.
While waiting for my appointment, I was practically sprawled across the table. I'd already ordered myself a drink a Corellian whisky. Nothing better if the goal was to get properly drunk. Seriously, what? I never claimed to be professional, especially considering the subject I was about to discuss. Judging by the profile of the person I was waiting for, though, I doubted professionalism was going to be much of an issue.
"Well... guess all that's left is to wait. Cheers to me in the meantime."
I raised my glass and took a sip, letting my thoughts wander again as I placed my datapad on the table beside me. It was an old model, another thing I'd eventually have to replace. Maybe I'd ask ADA Corp to make me a new one. Now that ADA had his own company, it would be a shame not to take advantage of it a little. And while I was at it, a better sniper rifle wouldn't exactly hurt either. I needed equipment and time. Lots of both.
I wasn't exactly trying to hide, either. Sitting outside on the restaurant terrace left me in plain sight, and I wasn't particularly difficult to recognize with my green skin and pointed ears. Yeah, I'm a Mirialan. I know.
"The old time miss me. Where is everyone?"
I watching the level of Corellian whisky drop at a rather concerning pace.
Jacero Savi