Space is Cool. (Galaar/Calico)

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

Galaar removed his helmet with a low grunt. They were in off Coruscant now aboard a friend's ship that it was humming its way through the endless void of space on its way to some unmentioned Confederate world.

So the Seps are still around when our brothers aren't? We're alive when noboby else is slag it all. Slag it all.

He looked over from his bunk at Calico. The only remaining anchor he had left in this world. At least he had one brother left and at least they were free now. There was no more slave army, no more GAR, no more corrupt Jedi Generals that wanted nothing more than to seemingly control every living organism in the Galaxy for the sake of supposed peace.

The bunks in the ship were clean too at least and the room they were in was good enough to bunk eight or nine crewmen with ease. It was unused it seemed for the ship seemingly had a rather small crew and these bunks were just extra.

The urge to speak about what was going on keep on sliding over him. He tried to push it back again and again but it slowly returned with a sour taste that coated his mouth. It was horrid, this whole ordeal was horrid, everything about the day on Coruscant was besides the fact he found at least one brother. His mind kept prodding him and in finally broke, after all the stress the dam in his mind whelled too far and broke.

"You alright Ca'ika? Its been a long day..."

It was likely the first time Galaar was entirely serious since he joined Fox Squad and so to a man who had knew him so well. To his brother... It wouldn't feel Galaar nor really look like him. For the moment Galaar's constant, lucky, unwavering grin or smirk was gone and replaced by a look of confusion and emotional lashings.

@Calico RC-247

 

[Revenchent]

The rumbling drives of the ship engines were starting to lull the old clone into some sense of peace. It was familiar in its own way; something akin to the Kaminoan flight sims back before the wars even began. He sat up straight in his bunk, dressed in casual clothing. A leather black jacket: white undershirt, gray slacks, and a faded pair of combat boots. His DC-15 sidearm was strapped to his belt; though there was really no need for it.

The Sergeant had full faith in the pilot and any who had accompanied them. He wouldn't be tricked--but he wasn't going to be sleeping much either. He had just about given up on any thought of conversation when Galaar broke the silence; deathly serious. It made Calico's intestines seem to knot up inside of him, threatening to constrict his lungs and make him suffocate from the inside. That gruesome idea of a death never came.

"The Seps are the good guys now, ner'vod. I read up on the state of things. Some Sith Empire just collapsed; the Republic is corrupt and on a war path. A bunch of cults control space...CIS is the only bastion of freedom left." He grunted, chewing on a pack of crackers absentmindedly. He reached up to scratch at the beginning stubble of a dark beard. "Am I alright? My lads are MIA, likely slotted. No idea where those droids went, and we pissed off the CSF di'kuts....now we're en route to join up with the enemy." A tight frown formed on his features as he continued to vent. "We're in a hostile galaxy, and I never had the chance to buy that Chiss lady a drink. She died ages ago I'm sure."

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

Galaar visibly cringed as Calico mentioned the fact that their brothers were likely slotted. He hated that fact. He hated it more than he had hated anything else in his rather short life. All he could think off were the sterile halls of Kamino, the cruel, ruthless Clone Masters, and the motherly grace of Bralor. He had never wished to go back, ever. But now that seemed like the safest place in the Galaxy. It was a fact that burned into his very soul, or felt like it at least.

The man leaned forward on his bunk and cupped his head in his hands, nervously chewing on his lips. A habit he picked up from his brother from his old squad. This was going to a be long, hard flight. he could already tell that. "So we goin' to join the Seps, ner'vod? Or are we gonna go back to Triple-Zero and give another look-see for our brothers? Because I... It really is my fault Sarge. I was watching the Squad's back. I failed the orders you gave me and that's why we're in this kriffing, slag-burned mess, that stinks of blasterfire and ozone."

@Calico RC-247

 

[Revenchent]

Calico pushed himself off the bunk. they would be arriving shortly, he could see it on his Tac-pad...granted, the piece of technology was an antique at this point. He really did need to update all of his kit. "No." He grumbled, fixating Galaar with a serious look. His brow furrowed and his lips pulled back into a stern frown. It was his I'm-in-charge-you're-not look. "Their kit was better. Much better than our."

He shook his head for emphasis. "So stop that thinking. We're in the here and now Galaar. The Confederacy will take us, and we'll start bringing freedom that our boys could never have to anyone who needs it." He folded his arms over the jacket, making it fold in an odd pattern. "That's our purpose now. Dwelling on the past makes it worse. That's all over now brother. We have to keep it together."

@RC-252 "Galaar"

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

Galaar looked up at Calico and listened to him. He knew his Sergeant was right, he felt it. But he also felt it was his fault. He had lost two squads now and that was a heart-breaking even for a Commando. Pull it together, pull it together for Calico. He has faith in you. He has so very much faith in. He stood with Calico and nodded before suddenly giving him a brotherly hug and squeeze on the arm like any Mandalorian.

"Aye sir, I'll put it behind me... Besides someone needs to watch your back and keep you fed and watered like a good akk, sir. Kar'tayli ad meg kukaat'kama."

@[member="Calico CC-247"]

 

[Revenchent]

Calico wasted no time in returning the hug. He needed to reassure the lad; and he need a bit of reassurance himself. "I'll keep your shebs out of the fire." He grunted, letting the Clone free. They had to get ready to get boots on the ground. A call to the CIS registry had their Colonel waiting.

"We need to get kitted up man."

He grumbled, moving over to his discarded Katarn. As long as they kept looking forward, things would be alright. They had to be.

Kripes I miss Comic and Nutzy...

The commander began to move all the pieces into the right place. He heard the whistle of the ship's drives as it began to break atmosphere. "Keep up the good behavior, two-five-two. I might buy you a treat."

@RC-252 "Galaar"

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

"Caf?"

Galaar asked after the offer of having a treat. he was slowly returning to himself and there was a grin across his face once more as he slid his helmet back on and sealed it with a gasping hiss. He have Calico a hard pat on the shoulder and moved to follow him.

"Or a new refresher because from what you said I use walls, or maybe a new gun! Or several if we're speaking."

@[member="Calico CC-247"]

 

[Revenchent]

Calico began to scoop up his armor and dress himself in it with great care. He clicked the button to open the ship bay as they approached the twinkling lights of the planet's spaceport. A wide grin split across his face.

"Yeah, Caf."