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Home...? {Any Fels, and of Course the Grand Admiral}

The Hound

Vahl Calls For Her Hound
Character
The sound of shuttles and speeders overhead filled Turin's ears. The smell of starship fuel wafted over his nostrils, and the weight of his small bag containing Turin's few remaining belongings, including both of his lightsabers, which barley got through security. Nothing a Force tug here, and a Force tug there couldn't fix though. Now he stood at a Vassek spaceport, awaiting the arrival a shuttle that would take him to the Fels, or what is looking to be the rebirth of the Fel empire. As the shuttle pulled up, and its doors opened, he was surprised to see a blue man, dressed in what he assumed was a naval military uniform. The man's red eyes stared him down, and Turin's blue eyes looked right back.

What new adventures awaited Turin Val Kur in this new Fel dynasty? In generations past his family had stood and fought side by side with the Fels, but Turin never knew that life. His family had left long before the Sith had taken their ancestral home of Bastion and had grown up merely hearing of the stories from his great-grandfather and great-grandmother, both high ranking officers in their respective military branches. His great-grandfather had been an Admiral during the Gulag plague and his grandmother an Imperial Knight...But what was left for him here? His father, just before he passed had sent him a message to return to the Fels. Something about his duty to protect them.

He would see if they deserved to be protected.

@[member="Davin"]
 
Just another face.
Character
@[member="Turin Val Kur"]
The Grand Admiral's crisp white uniform ruffled with the soft evening breeze of the Fel Imperium's citadel. Much like that of his ancestors, he bore the family name of the great Grand Admiral Thrawn and was proud to carry the same title the greatest strategist in the galaxy had held. Especially at his young age, he was turning 20 here in a few weeks and having a young Admiral would be something to raise an eyebrow at. But Chiss anatomy was ten times faster as far as maturity went for sentient beings. He was considered an adult at age 13 and had been in military service ever since.

And now, as he had done many times before, personally greeted the new arrivals of his new military. As the Executor of the Navy, he bore the responsibility of knowing each and every one of his commanders and higher ranked personnel. The young officer before him was slightly older, but still bore that same youthful look that even Davin barely had. His records had depicted his service with the Republic Navy, a decorated fighter pilot as well as being Force sensitive. It was like a buy one get one free deal, usually too good to be true.

With his usual politeness coupled with that trademark cold authority, he extended an indigo hand and spoke with icy enthusiasm. "Are you Lieutenant Val Kur?" He paused. "Or am I mistaken?"
 

The Hound

Vahl Calls For Her Hound
Character
There was a visible flinch at the chiss's use of the word Lieutenant. He had given up that title the moment he snapped his guard's neck in cold blood, hell, the moment he stole that starfighter, only to find that he had no where to go. That part of him, the happy-go-lucky pilot that loved the ladies...That man was gone. There was still a pilot in him, but the man many knew as Lieutenant Turin Val Kur had died months ago. But the Chiss...he had to know of his wanted status in Republic space, yet he treated him with such respect.

A sad smile came to the man's face. "I am Val Kur, you were right." the evening wind blew through his hair and ruffled his coat. "You have me at a disadvantage though, I was expecting a simple driver Mr...?" He allowed the question to trail off, letting the Chiss speak for himself.
@[member="Davin"]
 
Just another face.
Character
Apparently he'd stricken a trigger word for the man. As the word "Lieutenant" barely left his lips he caught Val Kur flinch, just ever so slightly enough that Davin's eyes shimmered with curiosity. Perhaps something lay behind that triggering of such emotions and physically stress. Whatever it was, Davin would uncover it little by little as the conversation went on. The Grand Admiral would never let any emotions become visible as such was the Chiss doctrine of a social life.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mister Val Kur." Davin inclined his head in greeting, a light, wolfish smile spreading across his features. "I'm Grand Admiral Davin, Executor of the combined Fel Imperial Navies."
@[member="Turin Val Kur"]
 

The Hound

Vahl Calls For Her Hound
Character
Grand Admiral? He was a little taken aback. Why would he come all this way to see him? It didn't matter, he had places to go and a schedule to keep. "A pleasure to meet you as well Admiral Davin." With that he entered the passenger seat of the speeder, the plush seat allowing Turin to sink into it. It was the most comfortable thing he had sat in in a while, and it felt good. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as the speeder began to move. Fatiged from Travel Turin began to slip into a slumber, only to awake once they had reached the palace.

@[member="Davin"] @[member="Ronin Fel"]
 
The Black Flame
Writer
@[member="Turin Val Kur"] @[member="Davin"]

The palace was lit brilliantly that night and as Ronin awaited on the steps of the Imperial Palace his magnificent purple and gold cape was illuminated brilliantly by the lights of the palace and the surrounding city. The elderly man and the Imperator of the new Fel Imperium had not yet lost his eye on Manaan and so he observed the incoming speeder with two grey jewels that seemed to absorb the light around them. This man who was coming to join the growing Imperium was from a long line of Fel loyalists and that was enough to peek Ronin's interest enough to give him an extravagant welcome. As the speeder arrived, two servants would open up the doors of the speeder to reveal a red carpet leading up to where Ronin stood, flanked by four Praetorian Guard on either side of him.
 

The Hound

Vahl Calls For Her Hound
Character
Awakened by the blinding lights when the doors were opened, his hand shot up to his eyes in pure reflex. Exhaling, he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Turin felt...Woefully under dressed to say the least. With a dirty, white shirt a cheap bantha leather jacket, beat up spacer jeans, and rugged, brown, boots he seemed a peasant in the presence of this soon to be great emperor. Turin's blue eyes met the old grey ones of the Imperator and reached out to touch him in the Force. Since the days of the Sith Lord Jacen Solo, many of the Fels had been Force Sensitive, and the extravagant lightsaber at the old man's side proved that to still be true.

He felt the Force in him, wild and untamed. It was worrying, to say the least, that he had such a powerful bloodline, connected to so many legends, that had been left untouched and unrefined. He also felt pride and a strong sense of right. Of course, he left himself open should the Imperator wish to touch Turin in response. Of course there were things he, a Force sensitive with much more training, blocked from him, but maybe he would come to learn these things in time.
@[member="Ronin Fel"]
 
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