6th post
SOUTH-WESTERN BATTLEFRONT, NEW ALDERA,
NEW ALDERAAN, TION CLUSTER (EARLY 877 ABY)
'May the Force be with you.'
Words that took him aback, as it was the first time anyone had imparted such wishes on him since Ziost, and even as Lord Aron watched Shorurra heading off westward, the Tuath would be quite amazed by the Wookie's pure-hearted farewell. A small victory over the GA, but Gowrie would have taken any and all little wins whenever he could, even in a war between former allies; for none survived of the sort who accepted nothing less than the great, war-defining victories, and none surviving of the sort who believed that such battles could be made commonplace, or common enough to endeavour outside of the rare, suitable opportunities to draw enemies into such battles.
All were smarter, more-cautious by then, and to the extent that even the Brotherhood of the Maw were more considered with their deployments after Tython, choosing instead to bleed the Galactic Alliance and the New Jedi order for every Hex they reconquered after that. The Second Great Hyperspace War was getting nastier with every engagement, as was the norm for any Galactic-scale conflict that dragged on this way, the Empire had proven this before whilst still in her fledgling NIO form, a reality of which had been ready to show face since the very first whispers of another Galactic war were uttered on Csilla. Time needed to pass first, and the proverbial lines in the sand to be drawn and defined once and for all, but the time to address the darkening tone of the war was finally upon them, and none among the living could stop it from transpiring.
I'm beginning to doubt the Force is with any of us now....
Wars drag on, gods turns their backs in disgust soon after.
Putting the returned translator back in his pocket, the Major-General looked across the horizon once more, watching the skies burn a little before turning back eastward to return to the Imperial static line, and in his sullen mood, Gowrie couldn't help but feel like little hopes could be snatched up like the small victories. Despite all the atrocities expected of himself and of all of his colleagues among the caste of Imperial Generals, Lord Aron was relieved that his fight with the Wookies would be decided more honourably than those of others in the past, escaping any and all comparisons to the Sith of old, and from the very moment of official, public declaration; like Lord-Regent Barran, Major-General Gowrie was also a keen Imperial law-student over the years, more due to necessity before than it was for convenience on New-Alderaan.
The Tuath wanted a good fight, and in order to assure his role as a worthy, toe-to-toe antagonist for the Wookies, he knew this was the only way to escape condemnation across the Galaxy, and all for the audacity of declaring war on such beings from the offset. Great warriors though the Wookies were, all across the Galaxy had already known that their race had been endangered too much already, giving more reason to respect the history of Groznik's people, Gowrie knew it was the only way to fight them as an Imperial, to do so honourably lest it be brought against his Triumvirs as charges for war-crimes down the line, whilst also holding to the opinion that the Galidraani didn't need such stains on their prestige either.
In Lord Aron's mind, there was always another way, especially for one who wished to become the greatest living non-Kyber swordsman after Erskine Barran.
<"Gowrie to Bramber One! Parley done, meet me at the Command-Centre.... I'll be there shortly, so you can help yourself to some Cladhan in the meantime. Wildcat One out!">
