Quarter of a Master
A pair of firm footsteps echoed through the sparsely populated warehouse. For a moment they clicked and clacked, and then they stopped. Something shuffled and then the clicking and the clacking continued again.
Inventory was part of Colette's preferred means of meditation. The routine kept her grounded in reality while it also kept her brain working in a way that she'd almost forgotten about until she had been appointed. Loose concepts of morality and mortality were all well and good, but it didn't quite compare to the hard facts of the real world. She left it for others to ponder those issues while she kept the lights on so that they had nothing else to worry about.
The pad in her hands was essentially her own ledger of just about everything that the Order had in their possession, save for the Shadow-related inventory. It had already helped her catch a few Padawans in the act of sneaking sweets to their bunks, but that was harmless compared to the true damages she used it to safeguard against.
Eventually she came upon an unopened box of plasma cartridges. Colette ran a quick scan of her ledger and sure enough they were there. Except,
"Weird." She grumbled and pulled the box closer. "They were supposed to be charged."
Oh well, she thought and carefully pulled the box into her arms. It must have slipped between some fingers. Given that they were Jedi it didn't matter much. It would make for an awkward situation when a teacher would have a need for a training probe.
It would take no time at all to remedy and there was a loading station right around the corner. Colette sighed and carefully huffed it on over. The box thudded against the station's metallic top. She pulled out a packaging knife, sliced the box open, and then grabbed the first magazine.
The hiss of the energy cell's induction port opening up to accept the first payload of sweltering hot plasma was unmistakable. There were only about nine more after this one. Luckily Colette had nothing but time for the remainder of the afternoon.
Connel Vanagor
Inventory was part of Colette's preferred means of meditation. The routine kept her grounded in reality while it also kept her brain working in a way that she'd almost forgotten about until she had been appointed. Loose concepts of morality and mortality were all well and good, but it didn't quite compare to the hard facts of the real world. She left it for others to ponder those issues while she kept the lights on so that they had nothing else to worry about.
The pad in her hands was essentially her own ledger of just about everything that the Order had in their possession, save for the Shadow-related inventory. It had already helped her catch a few Padawans in the act of sneaking sweets to their bunks, but that was harmless compared to the true damages she used it to safeguard against.
Eventually she came upon an unopened box of plasma cartridges. Colette ran a quick scan of her ledger and sure enough they were there. Except,
"Weird." She grumbled and pulled the box closer. "They were supposed to be charged."
Oh well, she thought and carefully pulled the box into her arms. It must have slipped between some fingers. Given that they were Jedi it didn't matter much. It would make for an awkward situation when a teacher would have a need for a training probe.
It would take no time at all to remedy and there was a loading station right around the corner. Colette sighed and carefully huffed it on over. The box thudded against the station's metallic top. She pulled out a packaging knife, sliced the box open, and then grabbed the first magazine.
The hiss of the energy cell's induction port opening up to accept the first payload of sweltering hot plasma was unmistakable. There were only about nine more after this one. Luckily Colette had nothing but time for the remainder of the afternoon.
Connel Vanagor
