demon’s head
Don't make the same mistake twice. A lesson as old as time. It echoed through the halls of the space station brimming with Antarian Rangers, Alliance Soldiers, and Stormtroopers, and it echoed across the galaxy. The Bryn'adul plague had been a wake-up call, shaking foundations and dogmas alike, beckoning the need for evolution. Now, another scourge rises from the Unknown Regions, a harbinger of the apocalypse who seeks to do to the galaxy what it had done to Csilla; the Chiss homeworld had only been the start.
Don't make the same twice.
Strike first.
I L U M
SPACE STATION IN ORBIT
Steel sabatons clanked upon the metal floor heralding a tempest in the form of two stormtroopers. Lieutenant Harrsk and Lieutenant Valaar of the 501st Legion strode in both hurry and reluctance to the war room; hurry to get this over with and reluctance to be far from their troubled Empire. Carlac had dared to oppose the Imperator's will and the blind fool Halketh had to be taught a lesson. The Maw, nay, the galaxy could wait. Imperial lives came first.
Everyone else was expendable.
Second class.
Both lieutenants shared little to no words between each other, there was no love lost, but what they shared was their contempt for being sent here to assist the blind - those who refuse to see the light of the Iron Sun, those who spoke of the Imperial as a scourge no different than the Maw.
The doors slid open and both Imperials entered, and with Harrsk - an air of hostility. Donned in a mixture of pieces of Stormtrooper armor and camo - an indication of what the Total War against the Sith had cost - the two officers threw glares at each of the representatives.
"What th-- they send priests to plot war??" growled Konrad.
SJC: Kiara Ayres,

GA:


NIO:
