Drev'Starn: Capitol of Bothuwai
The Dread Guard has made its way to the capitol of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Its soldiers have served [SIZE=17.77777862548828px]continuously[/SIZE] for two months; liberating four key worlds in the name of freedom. Now, the men and women of this elite Legion flood the streets of Drev'Starn in search of relaxation and a means to unwind. With pockets full of credits, admiration from the locals, and the companionship of comrades, the Dread Guard have taken the city by storm. Only time will tell as to how the populous takes to their cloned defenders....
The city was so very....alive. Streets bustled with lifeforms of every kind. From the small and furry, to the humongous and scaly. The capitol of the Confederacy of Independent Systems had proven to be a true melting pot. The city was alive with flashing lights and soaring speeders; accompanied by the din of heavy club music and singing. Drev'Starn had rolled out the red carpet for its newest heroes. People celebrate din the streets, others in bars or the comfort of their own homes. The news of the CIS's consistent success truly showed in the people.
So this is what I fought for.
Commander Calico, designation CC-247 stared down at the night time streets from the easternmost overlooking tower. He wore a short leather jacket: gray slacks, dull combat boots, fingerless gloves, and a plain white undershirt. His twin DC-15 sidearms were strapped within the inner jacket pockets, unseen by any who gave him a look over. His hair had been buzzed down to match the short, prickly beard that had formed freely on his chin. Every subtle movement he made irritated the brace around his midriff, reminding him of his once fatal wounds.
"A bit too fancy for me Sir." Sergeant Toph grumbled from over his shoulder. The much younger clone was dressed in his standard gray military fatigues.
"Eh, it's good for morale. You boys need to celebrate--use those credits we stole from the Hutts on Srillur." Calico retorted, eyeing the even groups of Clones below on the city streets. They all seemed to stick together, yet, they also mingled with the citizens.
They aren't being treated like droids. Not like the Jedi did.
"Kix and the boys were heading down. I really don't want to go but...I need to keep watch over them." Toph complained aloud; flashing a rare, wide smile at his CO. "Nice excuse....you enjoy yourself To'ika." Calico retorted, messing up the brown mop of hair on the Sergeant's head to tease him. The younger clone grumbled an almost silent curse and backed away. "Don't stay cooped up in here Sir. We're heading down to the bars...I hear you're going to be doing politics with the bigwigs later. You could use some fun before that." With that said, Toph headed for the turbolift.
Hope they stay safe.
Calico sat and continued to stare out the window. He had no idea where the rest of his closest men were. Galaar was likely down at the dirtiest bar in the city--Dogger's, Calico recalled, teaching the younger soldiers how to drink and talk to women. The thought made the Commander chuckle to himself.
"No point missing all the fun." He finally admitted; heading down to the lower parking garage of the massive building. He came across a rather nice looking speeder bike, an old model stained a faint gray with green racing stripes down the sides, and opted to commandeer it. His flight pass gave him that right, after all. It was his with one quick motion across the speeder's identification scanner.
The bike lurched up into the air like the well oiled machine that it was. It had a smell reminiscent of a new paint, so it must have certainly been rather new. Calico shot off out of the garage bay and into the speeder lanes. It was only a few minutes of flying before he was in the mid-center ring of the city. Clone soldiers and the locals flowed in and out of Dogger's on almost predetermined paths. Big red letters that stated the bar's name hung above the entrance. From inside, Calico could eye the dim red lighting and hear the thunderous beat of dance music.
You're only twenty-two biologically...twenty-four now. Step your game up!
The Commander parked his new toy next to a row of other vehicles. He took a few steps toward the bar, drawing eyes and grins from various other clones as they spotted the green Command Sergeant Major insignia on his jacket.
This is so odd.
He paused to whip out his holocomm, a small, easily stored piece of equipment. It took the press of three buttons to access his 'favorites' menu and open the call to Galaar. "Hey, ner'vod. I decided to take a walk. The chest is still killing me. I'm outside Dogger's if you wanted a drink or something...unless you're already there. I hope you left the Strill at home."
((Anyone within the CIS may pay a visit. It is our capitol after all. Anyone not within the CIS can request invite and we'll certainly accept Some people already have been. ))
@[member="Galaar CC-252"] @CC-420 "Doc" @[member="Rainbow Flowers"] @[member="CC-325 Sawtooth"] @[member="CC-777 Jackpot"]@[member="T:N1:LDR"] @[member="Darth Metus"] @[member="Thrasher X3-14"] @[member="CC-827 Tauranov"] @[member="CC-837 Vanator"] @[member="Kage CC-743"] @[member="Texam Halion"] @[member="Ven"]