Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Private Picking Up the Pieces

"On your feet, soldier."

The armoured giant extended a hand to the young man whose GADF kit was barely holding together from the stresses of war. He'd suffered a mild concussion and his right ear was covered in bandages, having caught shrapnel from one of countless explosions, but he could stand and still had the use of both his hands. They needed men like him right now.

Striding through the improvised triage centre helmed by 'Bonesaw' Balor, his own team corpsman and a combat medic of unsurpassed skill and empathy, Thirdas passed rows upon rows of wounded and dying soldiers, each having given of themselves in the defense of the planet. Many would not live throughout the night, either because of their grievous injuries or due to the crippling lack of medical supplies, and those who did would never be the same. He could attest to that.

"Hold him down, hold him down," Balor instructed his assistants, forcibly removing a poor sod's leg with the use of a gigli saw with all-too experienced, blood-soaked hands. They'd run out of bacta long ago and were now relying on older, more desperate measures, the pile of body parts growing by the hour. Add one more leg to the pile.

"Sebastian, you need rest. You've been at it for 16 hours straight," he told him, the use of Balor's given name an indicator of the gravity of the situation. "Let others fill in for you, just for a few hours." He placed a hand on Balor's shoulder, the corpsman having set aside his armour since taking up medical duty. The Kattadan ripped off his surgical gloves and tossed them in a nearby bin filled with such gloves, all blood-soaked, and wiped his forehead.

"I'm good, Boss," he told his commander, eyes almost pleading to let him continue. He was in his element, despite the gruesome circumstances. Saving lives beat taking them, every time. He gave Thirdas a nod to affirm his status. "I'm good." Thirdas offered a soft smile and a pat on his back as Boros reached for a fresh pair of surgical gloves.

The triage centre were located in a set of ruins within walking distance of the Jedi Temple where he and the Ironsides had held the line against the Imperial onslaught alongside countless GADF troopers. Whereas his team somehow had made it through unscathed, their allies were not so lucky as evidenced by the sheer number of bodybags being stacked in a secluded area, away from the living.

Chief Ironside, the nickname he'd earned in the Bryn War, found a slab of duracrete and sat down by the honoured dead, leaning on his bloodied greataxe like an old man would on a cane, its heavy head inscribed with runes of his homeworld.

It had been a long time since he last saw home, and in times like these his blood yearned for Mother Midvinter's embrace. Ever did She call out to her children, summoning them home. The Son of the Lion had ignored Her calls because he was needed elsewhere, and would continue to do so. No matter how much it hurt.

He put his face in his trembling hands, attempting to rub the sleep depravation from his tired features.

Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell
 



CORUSCANT


Wearing \ Gear : | X | X | X | X
Interacting With : Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield


Makai was surprised to find himself on the planet ; the battle was over so it was relatively "safe" despite the extensive mopping up that was going to occur for years if he was being honest. He was in the area fresh off his honeymoon with Myra Arceneau Dashiell Myra Arceneau Dashiell ,using the fact they were in the area to check in on the Arceneau Trade Coruscant Warehouse for his mother-in-law. Word had it some employees didn't make it out and retreated into the massive labyrinth of warehousing that extended deep into the lower levels. Makai was determined to check on them and order evacuation or supplies as needed, he knew at the very least giving Danger Arceneau Danger Arceneau some peace of mind.

There was a second reason too. Iko Vel Iko Vel .His father's restaurant was near the Jedi Temple. Makai was determined to find something to bring back, although the boy had reported it was destroyed. His protocol droid, Thirty-Seven, was at his side to help navigate as any landmarks were pretty much just gone. Not that he had spent enough time on the planet to even know the landmarks beyond the Financial District.

Yet when he reached the small restaurant near the Temple he found...not much. The building had been burned badly, as Iko had reported. Makai picked through, coming up empty beyond a small teaspoon with the restaurant initial stamped on the handle. The half-Galan slid it carefully into his interior jacket pocket. Iko may not want it now, but if the boy was anything like his wife, the issues losing one's parents early would linger for years. No matter what the previous relationship.

Next was checking in on the warehouse. That wasn't too far, again he'd go on foot. A speeder wouldn't be wise, too much debris. Atmospheric vessels were limited in an attempt to keep traffic controlled in the chaos. Makai fully understood, which meant walking some blocks.

Yet as he turned one block near the Jedi Temple, he came across rows of injured soldiers on gurneys. Up head, iced topaz eyes could easily make out a pile of limbs. Cut off in an effort to save lives, to stabilize quickly.

As he drew near blood was running down the streets, pooling in the low spots. This was still an active surgery center. Or wounded triage area. No doubt it was difficult to evac everyone ; some would just have to suffer and hold tight on planet. With how large Coruscant was, Makai immediately knew resources were non-existent at this point.

He drew closer, calling out, hands open at his side. Didn't want to get blown out of the sky for trying to help.

"Hey!" He called out, moving slower now. "Anyone in charge?"

 
Last edited:
"Hey!" He called out, moving slower now. "Anyone in charge?"

He might've actually nodded off leaning on his axe had the stranger not called out over the moans and groans of the wounded. Lots of civilians streamed in and out looking for loved ones, standing over their wrapped-up bodies or sitting by their side while they recovered, but few would actually raise their voice to make themselves heard.

Thirdas took a deep breath before rising, turning to find a lone man, hands at his side as if worrying about getting shot for having entered the premises. Security at the triage centre was minimal, as most able-bodied soldiers were busy tending to the wounded however they could, be it by fetching food and water, providing blankets, or speaking to distressed civilians.

A few GADF personnel approached, guns visible but untrained, however Thirdas waved them off.

"I am," he replied, greataxe carried across both shoulders in a relaxed manner. His assault rifle hung from its sling at his side, and his entire right arm had been replaced with a cybernetic prosthesis sporting a black, dull metallic surface. His features were sharp like sculpted stone, albeit haggard from the intense battle just fought; filthy and bruised. His beard and hair were blonde — the former ungroomed and long enough to cover the front of his neck, while the latter was tied into an intricate series of braids conjoining at the back of his head. Tattoos ran down the shaved sides of his head, depicting designs and runic writings native to his people.

"I am called Ironside," he said. "My men and I established this field hospital just last night. They're still bringing in more wounded."

'Commissar' Creed, his second-in-command, sidled up to him, quietly passing on a message in the form of a note. "A hundred-and-eleven in the last hour, as a matter of fact, so you'll forgive us if we're a bit on edge." He nodded to the old soldier who returned to his duties.

"How can I help you, sir?"

Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell
 



CORUSCANT


Wearing \ Gear : X | X | X | X | X
Interacting With : Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield


"Pleasure to meet you, Ironside." A pause as he introduced himself. "Makai Dashiell."

Makai was struck that even in the middle of chaos, and while he got a wary greeting from the others, the soldiers were more concerned with helping him. Subtly, he took in the field hospital once again, looking at the wounded. Over one hundred already, some more critical than others. With days gone by, Makai was very aware disease and infection were the next battle.

"No need to apologize Sir."


Focus was back on the man called Ironside. Immediately he noted the tattoos. He couldn't read them, but he knew the symbols well. Question was, why was someone from Midvinter all the way in the Core? Maybe a Jedi? Or someone who left in pursuit of a different life? Midvinter had always seemed like a decent planet, but wanderlust could be at play.

"I see you're from Midvinter." His hand motioned to the tattoos on the side of his skull. "As such, I'd like to offer assistance. I own a mining company, not exactly immune to accidents. Most of my nearby vessels should have a stocked medbay and roughly eight to twelve bacta or kolto tanks. I'm aware that doesn't help but a small percentage of your men...but you and I also know open wounds are not wise in this environment."

Gaze fell on his wrist, looking at the date and time. Communications, HoloNet were down. He was relying purely off the DarkNet at this point, thankful for his late father-in-law for creating the system.

"I can have them here in....fourteen hours or so. I have crews nearby mining a frozen moon. You're more than welcome to what we have, its a drop in the bucket but also the least I can do."

 
Thirdas was taken aback, not only because of the man's comment regarding his origins but because of his shrewd observation and generosity. They'd barely shared two sentences and already he was offering assistance. Given his clean-cut appearance and unblemished outfit, he deduced that Makai had not been witness to the devastation and had only recently arrived on the planet.

"We may yet have need of your generosity, Mr. Dashiell," the soldier said, somewhat flabbergasted as he shook the man's hand. "My chief medical officer is doing all he can but our supplies are quite limited, as you can see. Anything you can donate we'll put to good use. Communications are still unreliable at best and non-existant at worst, so we've been fending for ourselves helping out this district."

His eyes caught the sight of a pair of children caring for their father, a GADF soldier wounded in the battle. They seemed in good spirits, all things considered. He watched them with pity, until his curiosity got the better of him and he turned to Makai again.

"I must ask: how is it you took one look at my ink and deduced my planet of origin? Have you business on Midvinter, or are you simply well-travelled?"

Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell
 





Wearing \ Gear : X | X | X | X | X
Interacting With : Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield

"Thirty-Seven, get in contact with anyone local, could you please?"

[ Of course Sir ]

Makai turned to look at the same soldier that Ironside was looking at. Children taking care of their father, it gave Makai pause. The soldier was incredibly lucky to have such children but at the same time, no child should experience this. Should see their father in such a state. At least the soldier looked to be in decent spirits, compared to some of the others.

"Oh...well, a little of both? I had a dear friend, older than myself, from Midvinter."
Melancholy entered his tone. Makai had hoped he would have been able to find Theo Heavenshield by now. Such was not the case, and he was thinking the worst. Quiet elapsed between them for a moment before continuing. " I have traveled there before too. I grew up partially in the Tingel Arm."

[ Sorry to interrupt Sir. Aina Holdings ships being currently diverted are Delinquent Miner ,Mine Your Own Business, and Manic Miner are fourteen hours out. Twenty-four kolto tanks, eight bacta tanks.Your father is sending Zej and the crew of Profit Margin to assist. They are eighteen hours out. Zej asks that those ambulatory are ready to be evac'd immediately. ]

"Thank you, Thirty-Seven. Geomark this location, direct the vessels to this block and this field hospital upon arrival. Ironside, its not much but I hope the vessels and my crews can be of use. They are miners and salvagers, not rescue crews, so do give them a little grace."


 
The blonde giant stood by as Makai contacted his people, clearly in possession of a private communications network not of Coruscanti making. Cain and Pac were still hard at work finding a stable enough connection to reliably send and receive data. Yarrick was over by the gift shop-turned-warehouse, overseeing stocks of medical supplies, provisions, as well as weapons and munitions scavenged off the dead.

"We are all in your debt, Mr. Dashiell. Every little bit helps."

He gave Makai a soft nudge of his shoulder, bidding that he follow him. "Major Yarrick," he greeted his second officer by way of leaning forward, elbows propped up on the counter. Yarrick was in a surly mood, as always. "Yes? I'll have you know, I'm terribly busy taking inventory of this clown show, and I have no time for any personal requests," he snapped at his superior with that arrogant Imperial accent.

"Oh, that's too bad, 'cause," Ironside looked over at Makai, "this gentleman has promised to donate additional supplies that will save many lives. Surely, that's worth a little smidgeon of reward?" Yarrick regarded the young man with an unimpressed stare, his stuck-up frown unchanging. "Fine! Fine," he threw up his arms so that his datapad went flying. "I'll just start the heck over, why not!" He proceeded to stick his hand under the counter and pull out a bottle of Corellian whiskey. "Here, enjoy it! Not like I'll have the time to..." he went back to work listing every single item all over again like the perfectionist he was.

Thirdas grabbed the bottle from the counter and walked away with Makai in tow, smirking to himself. "Don't mind him — he's an arse with people, but he's got a real knack for crunching numbers. Come on, let's find somewhere to share this bad boy."

They found a secluded spot, away from the grisly sights of blood and guts, outside what used to be a corner café, now bombed beyond recognition. And yet, one small table and a pair of chairs had somehow escaped utter annihilation. The chair creaked under his weight, but it held. He uncorked the bottle and sniffed its contents.

"Meh, it's not mead or ale, but it'll suffice." He poured Makai a glass, then himself. "No ice, I'm afraid."

He down the first glass in one go, grimacing at the alcoholic beverage.

"Tell me about this friend of yours," he stroked his beard, wiping away a few drops of whisky caught in it. "From Midvinter. Do you go back a long time?"

Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell
 



CORUSCANT


Wearing \ Gear : X | X | X | X | X
Interacting With : Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield

"Oh, you shouldn't be wasting the alcohol on me.It's really no trouble..."

Yet Ironside wasn't taking 'no' for an answer, finding themselves in a little bombed out cafe. An amusing little sight as he brushed dust off his chair and sat down, the blonde man pour them some whisky. Makai didn't take it like a shot ; he wasn't that stressed out just yet. Maybe after he visited the Arceneau Trade warehouses and saw their state, tried to coordinate on that front.

A sip of his whisky as talk turned to Midvinter. The alcohol burned a little, but was smooth enough, a decent quality.

"Uh, I suppose so? As I mentioned, he was older than I, a Jedi. I was just a kid who got looped in somehow, you know? Teddy Heavenshield. His father is nobility? Probably how we came to know one another, I grew up in the business realm and those often intersect just because it seems we attend the same social events."

A shrug of his shoulders.

"Either way, he got married to a nice girl...had two cute kids. I just hope they are okay, the galaxy is a rough place." Makai wryly gestured around them. "As you know all too well."


 
It was whilst enjoying his refill of Corellian whiskey that Thirdas froze the moment the edge of his glass touched his lips, truly not knowing what to do or say. The mere mention of the name stopped him in his tracks, and his intense longing for home, buried beneath duty and war, flared up like never before. His features grew sullen and his shoulders slumped as he lowered his glass without drinking, resting it on his knee.

He looked across to Makai, but that ordinarily steady gaze of his faltered more than once in trying maintain eye contact.

"Teddy," he repeated the name for himself, as if physically reminding himself of his brother's love. "You know Théodred," he then asked, swallowing hard. His good hand holding his drink began trembling and he put the glass back down on the table for fear of dropping it.

"I hear he's a lord now, as well as Warden of the North," Thirdas said rather coyly, offering a smile for appearances even as his eyes teared up, betraying his true feelings. "Yup, living the good life with a wife and kids! I'll tell ya... those cubs of his have the luckiest uncle...!"

He had to turned away in order to run his thumb along his eyes to soak up the first few tears, and he felt okay for the time being.

"And the father you mentioned, I hear he's King now—" he continued, immediately screeching to a halt as another, more intense wave of emotions came flooding back. His lower lip quivered and he sniffed loudly as he looked to the skies.

"I know his other son misses him... very much. And if he were here, I'd... I'd..."

Thirdas buried his face in his hands, visibly shaking as he sought to staunch the flow of tears. He wept in silence, not only out of homesickness but because he needed to in the wake of such a harrowing battle. He wept because his older brother had everything, and here he was, still chasing the shadow of the woman he loved. At times, this crusade of his, while noble in its intent, seemed so very futile.

By the time his face reappeared his eyes were noticeably reddened and teardrops still clung to his beard as he grabbed his drink and threw his head back, downing it all at once before slamming it down on the table. He rose from his seat as he introduced himself anew, feeling that Makai deserved as much.

"I am Thirdas of House Heavenshield, lastborn son of High King Thurion. Formerly a colonel of the Antarian Rangers, now commander of the Ironsides. Théodred Heavenshield is my brother," he said with newfound confidence and love. Finally revealing his true identity to another eased a burden he'd tried for so long to suppress.

Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell
 





Wearing \ Gear : X | X | X | X | X
Interacting With : Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield


Did Ironside know of Teddy Heavenshield? Makai couldn't be certain. If his once friend was nobility and now a a lord, with his father ascended as King, then some aspect of life was public knowledge. Nobility made appearances, there were news stories on them, legends passed around. Makai only knew of Midvinter on the surface level, so it was quite possible Ironside was just trying to fill him in on the background information that he knew himself, trying to catch the half-Galan up to speed so to speak.

Then the man started to weep. Makai reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a clean handkerchief and placing it next to Ironside. There wasn't anything he could say. Or needed to say. Instead he sipped his whisky, taking in the destruction, letting the bearded man have his moment. It was understandable.

Yet he was expecting the revelation that the other was actually a Heavenshield. His whisky was set down, iced topaz eyes searching. Was the man lying? A bold thing to lie about, especially something so banal as knowing Theodred. Besides, if someone called themselves the youngest son of a King, that was a different type of karma if one was truly lying.

"Hello Thirdas of House Heavenshield, lastborn son of High King Thurion."

Makai's expression twitched into one of amusement at 'lastborn' son, having had many conversations with his now-wife about the chip on the shoulder of gentleman of certain status and their birth order. It made him secretly hope to be blessed with all girls, they didn't seem to have these issues.

"What makes a Prince fight in a war, that frankly, isn't one's battle? Midvinter is far from here."


 
Last edited:
Remaining standing, Thirdas reached for the bottle and poured himself another glass.

"My brother's the prince," he felt the need to correct, putting down the bottle and picking up his drink. "I'm just a soldier. I've no patience or inclination for governance — it was my lack of forebearance that made me seek the stars at a young age and join the Rangers. They were able to hone my youthful rage and ferocity into a disciplined weapon of war, and I got to finally unleash my wrath against their foes. It was... exhilirating for a young man of my persuasion," he chuckled, taking a sip of whiskey.

"I won't deny I bore resentment for my father growing up," he continued. "I was frustrated with his discipline and piety, always giving of himself and hardly ever receiving anything in return. It didn't seem fair at the time, and it bothered me that he was okay with that. His Jedi ways seemed so foreign to one such as myself, the only one among my siblings to grow up on Midvinter and be fully immersed in their culture. Théo and the others had all traversed the galaxy and even fought battles by the time I was born. I was the runt of the litter with no great deeds to my name. Of course I wanted to venture out and seek glory, up there among the stars!"

His gaze turned skywards and his arms went wide for emphasis as he regaled Makai with his tale, almost spilling his drink in all the excitement. Valkyri enjoyed a deep oral tradition of storytelling, and he was fully engrossed in it.


"I've seen such sights in my time with the Antarian Rangers; such wonders, and such horrors. I've witnessed and experienced the duality of man, seen brave men crumble into dust whilst craven carried our battalion colours into the breach without fear. I've felled foes of every shape and size, sometimes with brute strength and sometimes cunning tactics. I've followed in the footsteps of some of the greatest men this galaxy has ever seen, and I've led men myself into battle on countless worlds. And... I've watched good men perish in their thousands. Men I was proud to call brothers..."

The excitement faded as he went on, as scenes of the most horrific ways to go replayed in his head. He remembered each one of them. Downing another glass, he slumped down into his chair, nearly causing its worn frame to buckle under his weight. He looked defeated.

"I'm no longer that man, Makai," he shook his head, staring into nothingness. "Age and wisdom has seen to that. Losing an arm and a leg was just the start," he flexed his right arm, replaced entirely with cybernetics. "Seeing my father assume his brother's throne — seeing the utter heartbreak in someone I thought unbreakable... It shamed me to have ever born resentment towards this man, to whom family is everything. I never lacked for anything growing up, and I felt like I'd squandered his love. I believe we've patched things up since, but I still regret those early years."

He picked up the bottle, hesitated, then put it back down, leaving it alone. This was no time to drown his sorrows.

"You said earlier that this war isn't my war," he now turned to Makai, meeting his gaze. "I say it is the civic duty of all able-bodied men to rise up and fight against tyranny — however they can — regardless of what world you call home or its distance from the front. If we were all content to sit on our asses and watch the galaxy burn around us, soon enough those fires will spread to even the remotest star, including Midvinter. I'm choosing to make my stand here, today, so that the fires of war never reaches my shores a day, a month, or a year from now. Ask any of my men and they will say the same."

Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell
 





Wearing \ Gear : X | X | X | X | X
Interacting With : Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield

Makai arced an eyebrow when Thirdas mentioned he was not a Prince. Could there not be more than one? He had seen that before, surely. Perhaps it depended on the royals themselves, and how the royal house was structured. In his opinion, only having one Prince was very risky. Perhaps Thirdas would ascend if something happened to Teddy? It was a lot of logistics he didn't understand, despite Casteel Mer'taal Casteel Mer'taal having tried to explain it to him on more than one occasion.

"I think its fair to say every son will argue and disagree with their father. I know I have. I don't know your father but I'm sure he loves you all the same, regret or no regret. Life is too short for those, the what-ifs and the feelings of regret. Best to just move forward sometimes."


Another sip of his whisky, listening to Thirdas explain about his feelings of war, and why he did what he did. Makai could understand to a point. For himself, a non-force user, it was a little moot. He felt much of the galaxy's fate wasn't in the hands of people like himself, but by two idiot religions fighting over who was correct. They were just caught in the middle.

"I suppose that is a good way of looking at things. You certainly have my respect."




 
Thirdas considered long Makai's words regarding fathers and their sons, and how heads must sometimes butt even among the most close-knit relationships. He supposed he was right; young men are often eager to prove themselves greater than the name of their sires, to build a legacy of their own rather than rest on the laurels of those that came before. His own father was Thurion Heavenshield, the great Jedi Grandmaster — a brilliant general and legendary warrior, whose name and deeds reached far and wide across the known galaxy. How could anyone possibly live up to such a god amongst men?

Hence his adolescent desire to escape such a legacy and establish his own name. The Rangers had provided such an outlet, for a time.

"What of you, Makai? Have you a warrior's heart," he asked, only to swiftly raise a hand. "Do not misunderstand, I intend no mockery. The number of civilians outnumber fighting many times, as is only right. Few men are able to look another in the eyes before taking their life, and in a perfect world we would be better off leaving such dire measures in the capable hands of the Jedi, whose wisdom would assure the rest of us that such measures were necessary in the first place. Our conscience would be left unsullied, our hands unstained, and our souls uncorrupted."

He looked around at their wartorn surroundings, the smoking ruins of the former Senate building in the far distance.

"Clearly, we live in no such times. It was not the Jedi who saved Coruscant from utter annihilation, it was the common soldier fighting for that which he holds dear: his family, his home. Average joes with no great destiny or legacy to their names lay down their lives on a daily basis so that those of us that are left may enjoy another day of what life has to offer."

His eyes glazed over as he thought of countless lost comrades.

"The real heroes are those that don't come home. The men in those body bags, back there. In my culture, we rejoice at the passing of a fellow warrior, for they have seen the end of war. The rest of us have no choice but to linger on."

Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell
 



CORUSCANT


Wearing \ Gear : X | X | X | X | X
Interacting With : Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield

"Oh, no. I tried when I was a teenager in an act of twisted rebellion and a desperate desire for approval from my mother. It didn't work out, I didn't last but six months."

Myra Arceneau Dashiell Myra Arceneau Dashiell had flown out to the cold reaches of Chiss space to knock some sense into him during that time. Not to say he listened well. He wasn't a good communicator during that time period. Yet being a soldier wasn't for him, he knew that now. It had been more of some attempt to try to follow in both parents footsteps and gain an odd sense of approval and pride he had been seeking.

"However, if it came down to protecting my wife and family, I would have no issues finding my warrior's heart, so to speak."

As he listened to Thirdas, Makai suspected that 'Ironside' might be the only one who believe Jedi didn't save Corsucant but instead the common soldier. Not a take one saw on a regular basis, if at all. It was refreshing to see someone recognize that it took the great will of many to make something happen, not one idiot with a lightsaber.

"I fully agree with you, the common soldier is who we owe our debts to. I'm sorry to hear about your men. Their families will feel their void the most, I pray they find some small comfort in the sacrifice being made."

Hand reached for the bottle, pouring them both some more whisky.

 
Thirdas smiled.

"Then that is as it should. In the words of House Heavenshield — Family, Duty, Honour. Comport yourself with honour, be of service to others, but never at the expense of family. Family comes first, always."

He gratefully accepted the drink offered to him, though he would merely sip from it from now on. Won't do for him to get intoxicated while technically on duty, despite being his own boss nowadays. Thankfully, offworld firewater was no match for Valkyri constitution, nor could it touch some of the stuff they make back home.

"Oh," he lowered his drink, feeling the need to correct him. "Those are not my men, they were..." He trailed off, once more being reminded of Tulan's fate. "They were under the command of an old friend of mine. My guys and I merely pitched in. He's the one you should be sharing a drink with, not me. Only... he didn't make it."

Suddenly, the urge to empty his glass became too strong to ignore, and he turned his head in a bid to save face. He sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes before the tears had a chance to make their presence known.

"Tell me about 'Teddy'," he unexpectedly said. "What was he like, back then? All I know is the dutiful son and devoted family man. You two ever get yourselves into trouble?"

Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell
 



CORUSCANT


Wearing \ Gear : X | X | X | X | X
Interacting With : Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield

"Yes, family is the highest importance."


Chosen and blood, in his opinion. With the addition of Iko Vel Iko Vel , Persphone, and Rue there was a fun component now to the Arceneau and Dashiell families. Makai could only chuckle at the teenage and pre-teenage antics of all three and it was nice to see the family start to grow - for the longest time it was just himself and his wife looking as if they would have to carry the mantle alone.

"I'm sorry to hear about your friend. He sounds like he was a great man."


Thirdas changed the subject quickly, not wanting to dwell. Makai could easily understand such a thing, the wound was too raw to deal with at the moment. Instead he wanted to be entertained by stories of his brother, which Makai could understand completely. It sounded their relationship was a little strained, something Makai was worried about for his own children. Between Casteel Mer'taal Casteel Mer'taal and now Thirdas, he was wondering what dynamic to avoid to have his own potential sons not be at odds with one another.

Perhaps he would have to break down and ask Casteel sooner than later.

"Teddy was a great friend, easily a natural leader and advice giver. Almost as if it was in his blood. Impressive, if I look back on it."
Yet Thirdas perhaps didn't want to hear about personality traits. "So me and another kid taught him how to surf. He came to my house on Dac and we would hang out and hit the waves. He also spent time with my father, working with salvage crews, staying on Ceto and beyond. I was surprised at the time he spent time with my father, but I get it, he was trying to figure out himself as a man. I think we've all been through that process."


 
C O R U S C A N T
T E M P L E - D I S T R I C T
F I E L D - H O S P I T A L


Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell

Thirdas gradually turned to Makai as he told his tale, eventually leaning forward with his elbows against the table like a child listening to a bedtime story. He'd never heard another speak of his older brother that wasn't family. Théo was already a young man by the time he was born, having already had his share of adventures growing up as Jedi and later becoming lorded by Uncle Thyrian. It was nice to know he was once a brash troublemaker, same as he.

"Théo knows how to surf?" It was something he could've never pictured; the Lord of Norvegr-fen, Warden of the North, and Heir Apparent awkwardly balancing on a surf board in a tropical setting. How much farther from Midvinter could one possibly get?

"I would have loved to see that," he said, regretting having missed out going on adventures with his brother. If only he'd been born sooner. What was even less believable was what Makai said next.

"You mean..." His gaze dropped to the table, watching as he idly picked at a splinter sticking out of the flat surface. It was simply unfathomable to learn Théodred, Son of Thurion, was capable of harbouring doubts. All his other siblings seemed so sure of themselves, like they had it all figured out. He smiled, though having learned this about his brother only made the pain of missing him even greater.

"To me, he's always seemed so... certain about who he is. That his purpose was always to follow in our father's footsteps, to be the Crown Prince of Midvinter. I never knew he once had his doubts, too. I grew up knowing nothing but self-doubt and feeling like the life I had wasn't for me. It's what drove me to seek the stars in the first place."

He examined the contents of his drink, placed it to his lips, and threw his head back, downing the last of it.

"Must be that Corellian wanderlust in our veins," he boasted, picking up the bottle only to find it empty. Disappointed, Thirdas got up, walked a few paces, then hurled the bottle high into the air. He pulled out his sidearm and shot the bottle mid-air, shattering it into tiny fragments. He turned Makai and laughed, holstering the blaster.

"Tell me, what will you do once our job here is done?"
 



CORUSCANT


Wearing \ Gear : X | X | X | X | X
Interacting With : Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield

"I would think there would be more doubts if one's path is already decided for you. Crown Prince sounds like a heavy title to have. Not exactly like you could go off and do what you want, logically at some point you're going to be shoehorned into being King. Sounds like you had a rough time growing up, I guess a person would in your position. Viewed as a backup for the Kingdom in a way."

Makai was in some quiet reflection until Thirdas grabbed the bottle and shot it. Seemed like a waste of perfectly good whisky to him, but then again the Midvinter man seemed a little...intense...to begin with.

"Once I'm done talking to you I'm going to check on a warehouse for my mother-in-law, ensure the workers don't need any assistance, then I'll be off. I doubt I will be around once my crews arrive but you're free to use them as you see fit. Like I said, just go easy on them, miners and salvagers, not medics or rescue personnel."

A pause.

"What will you do after this?"


 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom