Faction City of Lights- GE Social Thread, Coruscant

[Lucius Redmond]

Post 1
3rd Fleet Drydock, Near the Federal District
Coruscant


Lucius walked along the upper walkways of the giant anchorage that was currently housing the bulk of the 3rd Fleet and her thousands of crew. Repair and rearm would be complete within the hour, a necessary break after their two short deployments on Gelantios and Aldeeran. The second of which had proved more taxing resource speaking, particularly with the forays into the tunnels. His troops and sailors had done the Empire a mighty service, without so much of a complaint or moment of hesitation. It brought a smile to his face as he walked the gangways above Star Destroyer Endurance, as welding arcs flashed about the hull where a small amount of flak had made it through the shields. A few casualties here and there but no family lost in either affair.

His gaze shifted towards the rust colored horizon as sunset peaked just below the towered surface of the cityscape, as a collection of speeders and various vessels flew about, two and fro on endless errands and jobs. The megacity never slept. Lucius found it to his liking. The pulse of it. He was in the process of acquiring an alternative home for his family there, the whole lot of them. It would bring the Redmonds closer to the Imperial seat of power, and though the others didn't share his ambition, Lucius planned to lift his family collectively to the highest levels of the Empire. Which could only happen there.

Lucius took in the bustle of the city as he made his way past ISB Headquarters, toward a large park, guaranteed to be his type of company. A few Naval personel and Stormtroopers saluted him as he passed by and the Admiral returned their salutes as he continued his walk. He wondered how similar the planet was to that of the memory of his recently resurrected anscestor's time. The half mad Norman, who'd lived on the world nine hundred years prior, far before the family had relocated, and when they'd still been called Trent. Lucius breathed deeply, the fresh oxygen produced by the trees in the artificially maintained parks mixing with the air of nearby heavy industry and smog. Reminded him of home.

 

[Lucius Redmond]

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[Redmond]

Post 1
Disordery, Federal District Cantina near ISB Headquarters, Coruscant

Trent howled with laughter as he sat with a contingent on mawites and they celebrated their recent victories over a river of alcohol and other substances. The battle against the Fian had been short, but tough, reawakening the ancient man's instincts and surging new life into him. Aldeeran had been significantly tougher, and he was glad it'd came second on the list. Those tunnels beneath the satellite array and the fire they used to clean it of rebs followed his recent dreams and his waking memory. He'd found a new home among the group of madmen and pirates, kindred spirits inhabited with the same type of fire that burned within himself, that of sustained conflict. Their biology, experience, brain chemistry, and perhaps the force itself had fated them to a life of laserfights and raids. Frontal assaults and death. Norman never could've imagined himself with such a group before his long nap.

Around them were a set of mostly finished drinks, being rotated about here and there as one or the other of the small group finished a beer here and there. Drinking an amount comparable to the horrors they witnessed in their trade. Their wanton use of the mawites as shock troopers by the Imperials heightened this. They tended to stand shoulder to shoulder with whoever the vanguard was if it wasn't themselves, taking the brunt of casualties in more than a few engagements. This was how the soldiers of the Foederatti preffered it.

Most wore cybernetic limbs, they'd laughed at Norman for this recently, ensuring him that he'd be at least fifty percent "chrome" by the time he hit "retirement" age. It was a standard, with the actions they performed and the acts of bravery expected of them. For Norman, it was a more than free trade for the personal freedom granted the members of the clan. They didn't have regulation uniforms and often looted the enemy on battlefield, taking treasure for themselves. They dressed and looked how they pleased, every man and woman an individual. During Liberty, they did precisely as they pleased, many visiting spice dens and other shady cantinas in their free time. A stark contrast to his years under the Snowtrooper Helmet.