Heroes of the Order (Rolf/Wenck/Kierel/Asharad)

[Ludolf Vaas]

​

The dazzling lights of Avalonia were on full display, visible from space above Dosuun.

After the First Order's successful conquest of Zarnathea, a rally had taken place in Victory Square the same way it normally did whenever the First Order conquered a planet. The festivities extended well into the evening this time however, because there would be a special unveiling today. The First Order had newly commissioned medals for battlefield bravery, and this would mark the first occasion in which those medals were handed out. Particularly, members of the First Order Army would be awarded tonight - all personally recognized by Field Marshal Ludolf Vaas. The Grand Moff, [member="Natasi Fortan"], was in attendance as well.

The soldiers being awarded here tonight in front of the crowd of thousands had fought in the thick of battle at Zarnathea and survived. Their units had been engaged from beginning to end of the campaign, and had taken some of the most significant losses as a result. Not only that, but High Colonel A'sharad Graush was also being awarded for his leadership of the White Wolves Regiment. Meanwhile, Ludolf would present the medals personally.

Vaas stood at the edge of the podium in front of the gathered masses, both soldier and civilian alike. To his right were the recipients of the award - [member="Kierel"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Asharad Graush"], and [member="Rexus Wenck"]. If the Grand Moff wished to make a speech, she could. Ludolf didn't know what her plans were for this occasion, but he would be presenting the medals shortly.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

It was a cold, clear night in Avalonia, the kind of late autumn night that might yield snow if the weather cooperated. Still, the breaths of those on the raised dais froze in the air, fogging briefly before dissipating. Natasi Fortan stood, resplendent in a black coat with fur trim, gloves, and boots. The coat hung open to expose a black uniform beneath, and her hair was pulled back into a martial bun at the base of her neck. She listened to the cheering crowds and the Supreme Commander's Own marching band until the cue was given for her to take to the podium. Her remarks would be brief, would highlight the fighting forces of the First Order, and the Supreme Leader's agenda.

She stepped up to the podium, her slender, gloved fingers clutching the sides as the First Order State Media droids circled the proceedings, taking video and stills. "Ladies and gentlemen -- citizens of this great nation -- please join me in welcoming the triumphant members of the Supreme Leader's armed forces, fresh from their liberation of Zarnathea!" She stood away from the podium so that her applause would not overpower the sound system -- as if that were possible with the roar of the crowd in Victory Square and in the other plazas and squares on Avalonia and across the empire in which the ceremony was being broadcast. The ovation went on for over a minute, with the assembled dignitaries joining the applause. Finally, Natasi stepped back up to the podium.

"I'm not here to give a big, long-winded speech -- not this time," Natasi said with a self-deprecating chuckle, which also rippled through the crowd. "I'm just here to express, on behalf of the Supreme Leader's government and every citizen for whom it stands, our profound gratitude to the men and women of the Supreme Leader's armed forces, and in particular for the men who are being honored this evening. You are examples to each of us, and challenge us every day to look into our hearts and seek out new ways to dedicate ourselves to the First Order and to the Supreme Leader's vision. Thank you -- and well done." And with that, Natasi stepped back and stood in front of her seat, applauding with the rest of the attendants the brave soldiers of the First Order's stormtrooper corps.

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]

 

[Asharad Graush]

The High Colonel stood silently.

It was a cold night, but he couldn't feel the cold that the many others would've.

Where others would've felt the cold, A'sharad merely felt warmth. The Force became an attractive thing when it could maintain your body's temperature and increase it as was necessary. Especially when he was standing in front of a roaring crowd such as this one.

His wounds had been fixed upon the Wolf's Maw, on the way back to Dosuun. At least he looked presentable now. Back then, on the planet of Zarnathea, scarlet fluid trickled from multiple wounds across his face and head. Thanks to the expert medical staff, the scars had been removed, as if they never existed in the first place. But still, mistakes had been made. Every single Stormtrooper that lost their life under his command, not the ones that had accompanied people like, [member="Kierel"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], or even [member="Rexus Wenck"], but rather the stormtroopers that fought in Zerek Platoon.

All throughout the planet, the area immediately surrounding the University of Nar'Tan and the Market Place had been the heaviest of all the fighting. It gave wonder as to why there were so many rebels there. The chances were that it was meant to be the force that attacked the First Order's Headquarters on the planet. That had been turned. But he had lost fourteen men on that day. He didn't care for them personally, they were practically programmed to be the war machine of the First Order. They were just more numbers. Numbers that were also blemishes on his new unit's record. Fourteen of them.

Across the rest of Nar'Tan, no other unit had suffered casualties.

Is this what the Sith of Old would be doing?

Golden orbs glowed as [member="Natasi Fortan"] returned to her seat.

Likely not.

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Usually Rexus would have shivered in the Avalonian wind. But the trooper stood tall and looked above the crowd. It was a far cry from the humid streets of Nar'Tan here. Rexus peered through the crowd, his brother said he'd be there. It had all rushed by so quickly. Even now the stormtrooper couldn't comprehend how he got here. Here he stood, a Gundark Gunner, one of the First Order's most troublesome and insubordinate units, proudly among colonels, marshals, and leaders of the First Order. Dressed in military fatigues, he clenched his fists by his side as he saw Grand karking Moff Fortan give her speech. It was only a matter of time now till it was his time to shine. He turned, and offered his fellow award recipient a small smile.

[member="Kierel"] [member="Ludolf Vaas"] [member="Asharad Graush"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Rolf stood crisply at attention during the address, the loud thundering applause frankly, a tad overwhelming. He'd spent the last several hours preparing his uniform, the crisp edges pressed by an archaic hand iron. Rolf took great pride in his uniform, every crease carefully tended, each ribbon and device expertly set. Some of the men in his squad gave him a fair amount of flak for it, unenlightened as to why someone would spend so much time preparing a uniform. Rolf on the other hand understood not on the importance of appearance, but he'd always held the belief that if you could managed the details, the little perfections no one was looking for, the larger things would fall into place. The same could not be said for the reverse. If you couldn't manage to do the small things right how could anyone expect or trust you to get the big things right? Carefully he'd taken a small pocket lighter, burning off any fuzz or stray stitching, snipping any errant threads with a small pair of scissors. It had been perfect.

Now he stood, boots polished and re-polished, creases and pockets ironed, devices leveled and sparkling in the bright lights. In his peripheral vision he could see the others who were to be awarded as they stood together there before the masses. Beyond them, he saw movement near the podium. The Grand Moff had approached, Natasi Fortan. He'd been present at some State events over the last few months. He'd always seen the Grand Moff surrounded by an entourage, mostly other high ranking political and military officials but this was the closest he'd ever been to the Grand Moff, he wasn't particularly disappointed. Even from where he stood he could tell the woman was the embodiment of class and it was with a fervent loyalty that he admired her. She was the figurehead of the First Order, at least the only one they ever saw and it was with this loyalty to the State and to it's leader that had ended him up here, of that he had no doubt.

He listened, hanging on every word as she spoke to the masses. It was short and to the point, that he was thankful for. The unfortunate witness to several long winded speeches by officers who simply loved the sound of their own voice, Rolf appreciated the briefness of her address. As the applause thundered across the lawn, he held his bearing, staring motionlessly into the evening and over the crowd.

[member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Ludolf Vaas"]​

 

[Druchi]

None of this seemed real. When Marshall Vass had told her, blood still dripping form her hands with the smell of blaster ionisation thick in the air on Zaranthea. That she'd be getting a medal she had imagined something far more mundane. Instead she was absorbed into the ferris wheel of propaganda. She'd been wheeled into doing interviews with First Order newscasters and her words were published across the Empire. She discovered that she was front cover of the Stormtrooper Corp magazine. She'd had to give a short speech to troopers in the Academy about duty and sacrifice. It had been written for her of course. It had the standard lines 'Honour for the Order, honour for you, honour the Supreme Leader'. The entire circus had left her feeling so hollow. The wellspring of interest in her, a nobody. Thankfully they hadn't pried too far into her private life.

They weren't interested in the messy detail. Only the parts of the story that 'fit' with the image they were crafting. That image was of the model Stormtrooper who took charge in a messy situation. Helping bring about the conquest of Zaranthea. There had even been a visit from the ‘fashion police’ who decided that she looked best with her hair tied back and had touched her up for the ceremony. They had wanted to put her in some form of dress but Kierel had protested so loudly they had gone with military dress instead. She had assumed this is what the Grand Moff suffered through every time she had to make a public appearance but Kierel Ortis stuck to her guns. She was a soldier not a dress up doll.

The real story on Zaranthea wasn't as glamorous. Her sergeant had been killed and half her platoon wiped out by gunship attack. It hadn't been glorious or pretty. And when she would try to sleep she could still see the smoking ruin and bodies crushed beneath rubble in the wake of the attack.

From the thick fighting on Zaranthea, the medical transport back to Dosunn and now here, Avalonia. In front of a crowd that numbered in thousands and with so many holo droids buzzing around broadcasting it throughout the Order. She'd had to watch plenty of these types of ceremonies before. But in person the sheer majesty and scale that couldn't be transmitted through a vidscreen. She looked across to Grand Moff Fortan, the way she was portrayed in the media made her seem as if she was made of Durasteel. She'd seen her face in a thousand holo's and on hundreds of posters but it didn't quite do the woman justice. Everything about her seemed constructed. Built in a way to project strength. She also looked different without the touch ups she thought. It was more human more real. Every image she had seen of her had made her out to be like a statue almost. Yet here she stood only a few feet away from her and the Grand Moff was clapping for her. High Marshall Vaas however was portrayed almost exactly how he was. Tall gruff and handsome who moved with such purpose people moved out his way instinctively for him.

She caught sight of the High Colonel. Her breathing became much more ragged and that niggling fear built up in the back of her mind. It had been he who had ordered the gunships to attack the market place. She'd talked with a few officers his record was impeccable but through his eyes she knew that he cared about nothing other than himself. She felt but for a moment sorry for the soldiers under his command. She tried to push these thoughts down further, Force Users can read thoughts and do horrible things to a someones mind. Everything about him radiated that he was a threat and those close to him looked uncomfortable. Her shoulder twitched where she was hit on Zaranthea as she dragged her eyes off his figure.
Wenck smiled at her. She hadn't seen him until now after Zaranthea and he'd scrubbed up well from last she'd saw him. Having said that they both looked different from the sweaty worn out messes they had been after combat. She smiled back at him and kept her voice low. Behind them the clapping of the other high officials quietened.

"It's good to see you again under better circumstances, you look sharp. Never thought I'd be here."

There was another one Amsel who she heard had been right in the thick of it as well. She offered him a quick smile and nod. They were all being honoured here for a reason. Even if hers was to be a poster child for the stormtrooper recruitment vids. You too can become a model soldier, take part in challenges you never thought you could do and serve with friends from across worlds. Do you have what it takes? Kierel hated those adverts a lot though now her image was going to be used on a fair number of them at least for a short time. She hoped that they would find another poster child soon.


[[member="Rolf Amsel"][member="Rexus Wenck"][member="Asharad Graush"][member="Natasi Fortan"][member="Ludolf Vaas"]]

 

[Ludolf Vaas]

As expected, Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"] took the podium to offer a small speech for the recipients of the award. Ludolf stood behind her with his hands clasped at his waist, listening to the Grand Moff's brief words. Natasi had kept her remarks short this evening. The award, after all, should speak for itself; these soldiers had gone to great lengths in their service to the First Order, and it was important to Ludolf that they knew that. He wished to foster the utmost loyalty in his troops, and that came hand-in-hand with respect. The same respect he expected from his troops, he extended to them also.

The Army was the backbone of the First Order.

As Fortan stepped back, Ludolf took center stage again and did a fluid about-face, standing at attention in front of his soldiers. "Let the recipients come forth," Vaas commanded. That was their cue to move forward to the center of the podium and remain at attention.

"For demonstrating exemplary courage in the face of battle, the First Order recognizes your bravery. It is my honor to present you all with the Iron Sun Second Class. Wear this badge with pride, and be recognized here as Heroes of the First Order. The Supreme Leader, and our society, is indebted to you all."

Each soldier, [member="Kierel"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], and [member="Asharad Graush"], would then receive the medal around their necks that signified them as true holders of the Iron Sun, presented in tandem by both the Field Marshal and the Grand Moff themselves.

 

[Asharad Graush]

High Colonel Graush stepped forward when the time was necessary. The Sith High Colonel walked to the centre of the podium at attention. He was tall, evidently young, but quite clearly mature as he stood up there standing above all of those Imperial patriots.

When the time came for the medal to be put around his neck, he lowered his head to make it easier for whoever had the duty of doing it and then he'd raise his gaze to the crowd again. He spared a glance for the others that were receiving their awards at the same time.

Will they live long enough to gather more medals?

Perhaps they would, perhaps they wouldn't.

Chances were he wasn't going to see them again. Or at least, not all of them.

[member="Ludolf Vaas"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Kierel"], [member="Rolf Amsel"]

 

[Rexus Wenck]

A medal? A medal?! Rexus was being awarded a motherkarking medal! He felt his heart begin to pump as he was awarded the small reward. It felt so good, so right. He looked out across the crowd, his eyes filled with steely determination and pride. Look at him now Dad. Look at him now Gorad. He was the hero, he was the goddamned hero. And he wouldn't let anyone tell him otherwise.

The trooper turned to Kierel, "Well, ain't this nice?" he asked, chuckling a little. He didn't really know what to feel. Pride for his performance in the battlefield? Jubilation for surviving? Or sorrow for those he left behind?

@Kierel/@Ludolf Vaas