Private Performance Review: Corporal Davis "Wraith" Garrick

[Davis Garrick]

​

The number of days between the present and the assault on Mygeeto grew smaller much faster than Garrick anticipated. He, alongside many other stormtroopers, had mixed feelings on the affair. On the one hand, dealing death out to those who used and abused his brothers brought a tinge of excitement to his mind. So many men and women faced an unjust hand at the corrupt touch of the Sith-Imperial Regime. How they justified their horrific tactics and tendencies of war crimes often left Davis enraged. More than once, one of the cloaks berated the scout trooper in front of his brothers, treating him as if he were nothing more than a child who'd never understand the power they held within their grasp. Yet, Garrick knew everything he needed to know. That power corrupted people. It turned them into self-loathing monsters with a penchant for destruction and nothing else. He wanted to prove to the pompous space wizards of the galaxy a well trained, determined, mortal man could accomplish far more than any psychopath philosopher.

On the other hand, Davis knew the chaos of war intimately. He'd seen death on a scale unprecedented working beneath the Sith-Imperial Regime. Young men and women conscripted against their will, forced into military training, only to see immediate evisceration upon the battlefield due to how ill-prepared they were. It took time to properly prepare a soldier not to break under the pressure of a battlefield. Even with months of said preparation, Garrick hadn't met a soldier who could claim never to of fallen within themselves in the face of such horrors. Though, many a brave man and woman pulled themselves from the edge, fighting their way against both the mental and physical challenges thrust before them. The Imperial was the hardest working, most courageous, and fiercely loyal stock in the galaxy. Perhaps that's what ate at him most. Knowing somewhere out there on Mygeeto, he'll have to face one of his brothers who decided to stand beside the S-IMPs, rather than join the Sovereign-Imperator in his Declaration of Dissidence.

Davis "Wraith" Garrick shook his head, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. It was only then he noticed how long he'd stood in place, frozen before the office door of Legion Commander Lyra Voi'kryt. How many noticed his trembling hand and distant gaze? Did they consider it a possibility the unmasked scout trooper wouldn't see his way home again? Wraith's reputation wasn't one to take lightly, given his meteoric rise through the S-IMP military academy, followed by his stellar experience serving beneath the former Lord General in the 12th Armored Assault. Still, greater men failed to maintain their sanity in the face of war. What did a reputation mean in the face of absolute carnage? With yet another deep breath, Garrick pushed open the door and stepped into the Legion Commander's office. He immediately stood at attention, his form rigid and straight, as disciplined in the academy.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

The office was divided by a bright beam, the steel setting glowing warmly from a ray of natural light that flowed in from the large glasteel window. The air was still and the space modest, the walls lined with data shelves. It wasn’t the back water field posts in the HQ tent she had started off in. Nor was the setting burdened by the humming and eerie void of her former post aboard the Epitaph. Despite the durasteel arches and distinct lack of green on this side of the base-It was nice, dare she say peaceful.

Sitting just behind a slim desk, face awash with the blue cerulean light projecting from the holo screen. A cheap smoke burned, forgotten in it’s dish at her side. Lyra stared at aurebesh flashing down the page as the report filed, keen eyes chasing the information. Speaking quietly over the projection, hand tucked under chin as she regarded the Major’s verbal input to the situation. Concerning was the word he used. Her chest constricted, seeking a deep breath as she read over the JanFathal update.

The assignment connected to the installment had been a welcome one, a perk amidst the chaos. It didn’t stop the sweat trickling down her neck, the quiet peace an illusion and the Commander would admit she was just distracting herself with nonessential reports. She told herself strictly it was only for an hour. She had four data pads scattered across the desk top, assignments left undone in the face of the looming invasion. Mygeeto to Muunilinst..as far as she was concerned the Task Force wasn’t ready.

The heart was there but raw brutality would leave the greener boys fairing for the worst. In the back of her mind she prodded herself, Lyra could not hold herself above the fears associated with the battle field. The bottoming out guilt was growing old and there would be all out chaos, as if they as a whole hadn’t already sealed their fate with defiances. This would be..oh she had an alert and she narrowed at the red text, finding it to be a notification from Appw’rii. Raising a hand it stilled before the screen just before she opened it-a voice broke her thoughts.

“Commander did you hear me?” the Major repeated, his brows pinching and the projection flickering.

“Ah..Major Ruul something has come up, I will see if I can direct this to the Inquistorial Sect and see if an agent can follow up on those leads..I will contact you when I have an update. Dismissed.”

The woman did him a courtesy straightening in her seat, offering him a curt nod as the transmission fizzled out. When there were no prying eyes she settled back in the chair, shoulders deflating, Maker her her she was tired. Idly considered the time and the looming appointments. Something had finally crawled it’s way up the chain and landed in her lap, the Corporal..Lyra hummed to herself, arms raising as she stretched with a few minutes to spare for the sake of curiosity. Craving the distraction. She didn’t hesitate to open the message from Captain, a single line of text accompanying a recording. Unsurprising.

<:‘look what I found and WROTE up today.’

The playback footage was shaky at best and the Commander had to lean in, eyes squinting as she watched..a man shot past on a rolling chair-the roar of a fan blaring through the audio. Was it propelling him? A second soldier flying by in similar fashion down the poorly lit hallway. What..? That had to be the construction from the installation. A good portion of the Twelfth’s engineers were still stationed at JanFathal and a chuckle escaped her. A small quirk catching the corner of her mouth, Lyra reached out typing out a reply as the door to her office slid open.

>:’damn wish we did that.’

Turning her attention toward the disturbance, a clam placid expression slid over the woman’s face. Hand sliding across the desk, flicking a single set of buttons as she powered off her work.

“Corporal Garrik, about time. At ease,” Lyra said, eyes flickering to the clock-words ending with a disgruntled sigh.

 

[Davis Garrick]

​

"About time."

Garrick remained stoic in the face of the out of place comment. Not only had the summons he'd received come in last minute, but the scout trooper managed to arrive well ahead of time for the meeting. Perhaps the Legion Commander's secretary made some sort of mistake. Given his position within the room, the train of thought proved pointless, so he dropped the matter entirely. While he moved to relax, Garrick still maintained his disciplined posture, with hands clasped together behind his back. Having never stood in the Legion Commander's office before, the stormtrooper took this opportunity to familiarize himself with the office. Nothing stood out within the single space, which made sense, given the practical lifestyle and expectations of the Imperial way of life. Perhaps the Legion Commander could use a bit more color in her life.

"Thank you, Legion Commander," Garrick's eyes fell to the seat across from her. Typically, these sorts of reviews saw those under analysis taking to the proverbial and literal hot-seat to undergo an in-depth review. Those who performed their duties to the 12th and 1st rarely saw regular inspection, given the results showed in their work. Yet, one could not escape the dreaded performance review forever. With his number finally called, Garrick moved to the seat and dropped down into a seated position. "I am here today under the impression I will undergo a review of my services to the New Imperial Order thus far. I have taken the liberty of compiling my past reviews into a datapad, alongside mission specs and other bits of information I've received since beginning my service."

Without missing a beat, Wraith unclipped the device from his belt and set it on the desk for the Legion Commander. He didn't doubt her or her secretary's ability to gather all the necessary information for such things. Nor did he suspect she lacked the clearance levels essential to dig deep enough to find the more, 'off the books' work the former Lord General saw the scout trooper perform. Garrick was just a meticulous man who couldn't stand wasting time. If he had to dedicate his afternoon to this review, he wanted to ensure it moved along as quickly as possible so that he could get back to more important tasks at hand. Such as Buckethead Squadron's weekly game of Temples and Terentateks. Having missed the last few weeks due to last-minute war-prep, missing another due to the review would've soured his view of the upcoming war.

"I do not mean any disrespect, Legion Commander, but I must know. Why now? Before our break away from the S-IMP Empire, I had one of these reviews. These things are typically yearly for me," Garrick's fingers drummed along the armrests of his chair, seemingly as if the soldier couldn't sit still. "Has there been a change in protocol, or have I stepped out of line in some way?"

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

“I’ll be frank Garrick I would just like to know which nocoms you pissed off to be honest, because you’re right this is highly irregular,” the woman said, hum building in her throat. Assessing him with a courtesy glance after he had sat, her eyes fell on his tapping fingers if only for a second. A man with his name in a little black book, so this was him. Pushing her chair back a fraction, Lyra crossed her leg over the other.

“You managed to get enough of the right people to queen and it came up the line, so here you are. You look at someone dirty last week? I had to follow up because of the flags on your service history.”

Seldom did she handle these matters directly, Lyra wasn’t staring at a handful of Officers neck in neck for an opening- not for his rank and file. She considered the data pad he presented, reaching out to grab it if only to humor him; but she didn’t move to flick the screen on. His name had been tossed around once or twice, hand in hand with some thinly veiled politics. He was at the very least prepared, she’d give him that.

“I’ve already seen your file, I’ve heard of you well before this mess,” Lyra ground out, gesturing with the data compilation; her brows furrowing. “four write ups previously and one I would overlook based on morality. You got a good track record otherwise-efficient I would say. So I’ll type you up a fair and honest addition but honestly..I’d like to make note of a ten year service member and just a Corporal?”

If she tossed the file aside now, dismissing the whole matter it’d reflect poorly. She hadn’t been interested in superseding through the ranks but this absolute negligence..What was he playing at? There was only so much one could do for a soldier with a bad attitude or was it a lack of motivation? They didn't need soldiers skimping by, or hot shots and Lyra shook her head to herself.

“I don’t know how you pull off, you know I am actually curious. What absolute bare minimum are you scanting by on to get away with it. You should at the very least be serving as a Sergeant. What are you a fucking donkey? You’re an intelligent man Garrick, everything aside why are you holding yourself back?”

 

[Davis Garrick]

​

The Scout Trooper remained silent throughout the speech, fingers still drumming along the armrests as she began. If he'd been a more patient or cooperative soldier, these sorts of situations wouldn't come around to bother the soldier. With a spotless track record in the field and dozens of completed operations under his belt, Garrick should've seen far more success in his career than he cared to consider. Even with his string of disobedience concerning more than one interaction, his marks were top of the pack, leading to his recruitment into the 1st 'Punished' Stormtrooper Legion, on top of the specialized Buckethead-Squadron. Perhaps it had to do with Belisarius and the favor shown for the stormtrooper, but Garrick proved time and time again; his effectiveness often outweighed his stubbornness.

Garrick leaned forward, propping his elbows upon his knees and his chin atop the back of his hands. He met the Legion Commander's eyes, a familiar lack of fear in the seasoned soldier's hard gaze, much like Lyra's, or any other soldier beneath the Sovereign-Imperator. Wraith appeared ready to snap back at the woman, perhaps challenge her disapproval of his service record or debate her words from his position. Instead, his steely demeanor broke, and a hearty laugh echoed out from within his chest. The soldier fell back against his chair, hand rising to cover his mouth with each amused rise and fall of his chest. Davis looked back at her, opening his mouth to speak, only for more laughter to bubble forth between them. This laughter carried on for a minute, eventually coming to an end as he managed to regain his control.

"I apologize, Legion Commander. I'm just surprised you even care about a small-timer like myself," Garrick admitted, straightening as he wiped a tear from his eye. "I like the insult, first time someone outside one of the boys had the mettle to shoot an insult my way. I see why you hold the rank you do. Skilled in the field, eloquent, and willing to tell it as it is. I respect that, Commander, I do," his hands fell back to the armrest, his finger's movement replaced with the gentle tapping of his booted feet. "If you want me to be honest with you, I will. I refuse to follow a commander who's going to treat us," he pulled out his dog tags, shamelessly motioning to his symbol of service, "stormtroopers like we're expendable. Many of us followed the Imperator because he didn't stand by and watch us die as the fucking Sith did. They got a goddamn laugh out of my brothers as SJO rangers or beskar toting mandos trampled them. Tav didn't," Wraith returned the chain beneath his uniform, gently patting it down flat almost routinely.

"When some cocksure captain whose daddy paid for him to see command orders me to abandon my brothers, I'm not going to do it. I'm going to spit in his face and run back into the thick of it," Garrick's voice carried with it the weight of a man who fought for something higher than country or name. "Any Stormtrooper worth their weight in credits wouldn't pass up a chance to stick it to one of those fuckin' cloaks. They used us, and they abused us. My brothers died at their hands," his voice remained surprisingly even for the passion he managed to push into his words. "I'm no better than them if I give up my principles over something a damned military brat fails to understand."

Wraith kept his gaze on the Legion Commander, his disciplined posture still what one would expect from a career soldier.

"I'm a corporal because it means I get to fight beside my brothers, get them home to their families, and know they'll be there to watch my back. Command isn't for me."

Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt​

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Lyra had waited for the clap back, she saw the tension behind the Trooper had even been there herself, staring down an commanding officer wielding a conviction that did not age well..The woman tilted her head, settling back in her seat. Vaguely tuning the man out as peeled with laughter, not bothering to hold his gaze a frown settled upon her lips. Never in her career had she met a soldier with this kind of audacity. Lyra dropped his data pad on the desk with a careless flick of her wrist, the thud sharp in the face of his attempt to compose himself.

She had been willing to tolerate much, a breach in decorum on occasion and Lyra took up the dying smoke, shaking her head deeply. He was pushing a minute straight of sheer laughter. She tucked the smoke between her lips, her own, calm facade curtains to her true irritation. Lyra took a final draw from it, plucking it from her teeth and exhaling deeply; smoke pooling from her mouth. Lyra regarded with a long stare as he finally simmered down, shuffling through her own words as he set in on his own tirade A scoff bubbling in her throat as he spoke of grit and eloquence.

Each word confirmed his structure, he was a hot shot, a morally hero pseudo type. It was a shame he was so good at his job, because he could be lent the justification and trust to do stupid shavit. She was critical of command posts, but she would not sympathize-refused to. Acts of valor had their place, but the Empire had instilled in it’s Officers a handful of important lessons-Tyrannical men of power aside and failure to properly apply such lessons...

Do not fight the losing fight, do not waste, and that was a lesson she held dearly. It was the immature man who sought glory in war and the mature man who served humbly. These words burned through her head and silence rang out through the office. Lyra did not address him, pausing only to look at him for a brief moment.

Naive was a better word she wanted to use as he spoke about their glorious spear head, the Imperator himself. A bitter feeling building in her gut, it would never be her place to say an honest to maker thing about him. Or perhaps she was still being too heartless on the matter. That was simply to much to ponder now and Lyra focused herself. Listen to and oil the war machine, that was her own duty. But this brand of fanaticism, even if part of it was paved in justice..did not change it’s birth. Justification did not mean it could get everyone else killed, even if they all signed up for this..

"When some cocksure captain whose daddy paid for him to see command orders me to abandon my brothers, I'm not going to do it. I'm going to spit in his face and run back into the thick of it,"-

Lyra released a low whistle in response. Leadership demanded sacrifice of morals in the long run.

“I'm no better than them if I give up my principles over something a damned military brat fails to understand."

She had been right about the fucking propaganda, she could see a man like Garrick. Another posthumous recipient of some medal, and a martyr. If sheer stubbornness did not see him deny death itself. Sucking in a sharp breath, a dark look passed over her face as she piled the remnants of the JanFathal issue up to her side; it could wait she was only humoring the Major involved.

“You speak about concerns of leadership quality, do you speak of your time under the Empire or present day? We offer counseling if you require Garrick. Go through the proper circles if there is a concern in leadership. In confidence I will take names if there has been negligence of the rank. I would think you could figure out that change happens by proactively seeking it,” Lyra began, calm like the ebb of water-she was to fucking tired to put up otherwise..“I asked why you hold yourself back, and all I have heard is a vendetta. A man with a chip on his shoulder, do not get me wrong. We all need a reason to fight, however I am not here to debate morality. This army needs results and you walk a very fine line. I think this settles the matter. You are correct. Command is not for the likes of you. Short sightedness is not a desirable trait in the rank.”

Lyra’s voice drawled and she discarded the burnt up smoke in the shamelessly full ashtray.

“Get out of my office Corporal unless you want to keep running your mouth. I don’t want to see you back in here again do you understand me? That means, do not piss off any more nocoms before this invasion and if you get another write up, disciplinary procedures will follow. Do I make myself clear?”

Davis Garrick ​