Public The Rooster

[Desmond Cartyom]

A bright light... He saw a cloudy hue of grey swimming in white bliss. It sat there for a moment dull but, carrying with it sweet anathema. Desmond let his mind bask in it for a spell, and for a split second, he felt one with... The force? Ashla? God? Whatever it was Desmond would never know. His mind which had been suspended in its dilapidated state for so long began to whir with the clockwork churning of his cybernetics. He heard something. Faint, distant thumping, then closer. Suddenly he was thrown to the floor as his stasis was released. He smelled a stench so foul he hurled. It hit his nostrils like an acrid dump. He picked himself up off the floor and searched for a switch. Then something beeped at him in a quick annoying series of binaric chirps.

"What do you mean the lights are on?" The chirps continued this time more softly. "Imprisoned in carbonite?" Des said in his thick imperial accent. "We're not aboard the Krayt..." He finished feeling stupid.

Suddenly a rush of memory came flooding back to the Chiss. A woman... Hell... Several women. But one stood out in the foggy den of grey matter. A rose colored Zeltron. Nice curves and pheromones reeking of lust, and a hint of something else... Greed. Desmond remembered sharing spice with her when suddenly everything went dark. Wouldn't be his first blackout, nor probably his last, but this time it felt different. More like the abduction styled stuff...

"How'd you get here then?" Desmond whispered quietly and then in a rushed note he spoke again "And are we safe?"

The Trash Can's familiar binary didn't sound the least bit worried. But then again machines rarely carry any kind of emotion within their chassis.

"75 years?" Desmond said in incredulous disbelief "That still doesn't explain how you're here..." he finished with a bit of hesitation.

Time...

The one thing he seemed to have wasted all his life, but yet could never get enough of... Then again 'more' was always Desmond's motto. The machine's claw clasped Desmond's shoulder and its metal frame felt cold against his skin. He sat down for a moment and felt the dust and sand which had built up in whatever derelict spice lord's mansion he was captive in.

"Uploaded your coding into an IG unit Eh?" He spoke quietly.

Desmond's senses began to return to him and his gut twisted into knots.

"I seem to have soiled myself..." He said his haughty imperial accent hardly detracting from his miserable state. "Tell me you brought my medicine..." He said hurriedly as his mind raced with obsession.

Desmond heard the soft thud of something landing at his feet. He coughed as he fumbled and stumbled amongst the small meager belongings and the copious amounts of dust. He changed into the jumpsuit with the droid's help and kicked away the soiled underwear he had been frozen in. He felt something in the pocket which carried the familiarity of an old friend. Desmond placed the deathstick between his lips and fished a light out of his opposite pocket. He lit it with shaky hands and smiled despite the droid's despised presence.

"Why'd you come for me?" He whispered between puffs of smoke, almost instantly regretting that he had. The garbage can removed it's hand from his shoulder as Desmond steadied himself to walk without the machines reassuring balance. Suddenly both of the IG unit's claws encompassed one of Desmond's hands and pressed something in his palm. A medal... From... Before. Desmond's thumb traced its shape and he shivered.

"You are needed," The machine said in basic this time.


OOC - This is a thread to reintroduce Desmond into the galaxy and any light side faction that could make use of an old imperial spook

 

[Vulpesen]

Ozone. The smell seemed to follow Vulpesen more and more every time he left Veradune. Tonight was no difference. Spice wasn't exactly the type of evil that the Vitae usually dealt with. It was terrible to be sure, but if someone wanted to smoke their minds on death sticks and spice, it was their choice to do so. Still, those involved in the criminal enterprise of narcotics often placed their fingers in other sludge filled pies. The trade of extortion had brought the Valde's attention to this particular stronghold, and a bit of boredom had ensured that he would stretch his legs.

One trip to the sector and a firefight later, then Vulpesen was clearing the place room by room, trusting his men to do the same. It his in this middle of this endeavor that the Zorren's golden blade illuminated the door behind the droid that had woken up the recently frozen chiss. Then, as Vulpesen rounded the corner, he tilted his head at the strange sight. He'd expected illicit riches, blaster toting gangsters, or any number of other things one could find in a drug den. He had not expected a chirping assassin droid and a chiss who's chilly complexion was more than his natural pigmentation. "Well... this is an interesting find. Looks like the local wall art is coming to life."

Desmond Cartyom

 

[Desmond Cartyom]

Desmond's fears were not assuaged by the machines ability to speak basic. The damn dumpster was evolving. But this did little to detract from the fact that he was still alone, in a galaxy entirely to foreign for him. His old crew? Cedric and their epic quest to find the Sith and his forbidden holocron. What happened to them all? Another singular instance of millions, any of which could bring the galaxy to its knees. Desmond placed the medal in his pocket and rubbed his eyes hoping it might return his sight. He had done things that some would label him a terrorist for. He had hopped the old sage was telling the truth. That he could atone for his heinous actions. But no... It was another pipe dream and this time the high cost so much death and misery. The machine beeped back in its familiar binary moans and the dialect brought a small measure of comfort to Desmond's cold heart. He smiled a little at the machines roast and was about to retort when he heard footsteps. The garbage can threw Desmond to the ground and chirped a binary warning. Desmond's heart began racing.

"You brought company?" He said in a frantic tone. The machine chirped again and then Desmond heard the dull hum of what his time in the field had taught him to respect... Or fear.

"Well... this is an interesting find. Looks like the local wall art is coming to life."

Desmond sighed and cursed the machine for waking him. But what truly weighed heavily on his heart was the nature of the saber wielding mystery man. A jedi. Or perhaps a Sith. Desmond was unsure as to the state of the galaxy at large and as such left completely aloof. The machine spoke before he could and Desmond decided it was probably better that way...

"Master Jedi. I am with a rebel cell on the hive world Coruscant. I serve the Corosian Phoenix, " the machine paused and Desmond could hear it sizing up the Jedi for a fight. He wasn't sure they'd make it out of this one, but the machine let slip some very vital information. Rebels. Jedi. Coruscant. The machine began again "This Chiss retains vital information of the structural integrity of some of the older defenses around the planet..." The machine's monotonous vocabulator belched out in an emotionless slur. "We need him," The machine still had Desmond pinned to the ground with one of it's many mechanical digits lying flat on his back. "He will stand on trial when Coruscant is free once more," It finished and a cold chill ran down the Chiss spine.

Then the ground began to vibrate against Desmond's chest. A faint rumbling could be heard growing louder and louder by the second. The machine head spun its ocular visor towards one of the derelict mansions many windows. "We have been discovered," it said simply, it's calm monochromatic speech doing little to calm Desmond's now racing heart. "I need a drink..." Des moaned to himself in dejected despair. The machine picked the Chiss up with its hand and threw the Chiss against one of the nearby walls. "Hey, what th-" He managed before flying through the air and hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes. The Ships surrounding the building began to buzz with frantic hydraulics pumping as landing gears were extended.

"People of Tatooine! Do not be alarmed! You are to vacate the surrounding area immediately! There's a rogue droid within the vicinity suspected to be armed and dangerous!" The loudspeaker cut the dull silence like a knife "Do not interfere! Violators will be treated as accomplices and dealt with accordingly!"

Desmond's mind raced with the possibilities. 75 years... He could scarcely even remember what he had come to Tatooine for. A message, or rather a messenger. One of his clones from Inferno squad had chilling news. His memories wiped by Sith and the Moff Tanomas' failed promise to restore them. Questions that he still lacked answers to.

"Master Jedi," the machine spoke to the stranger "Take your men and get the Chiss out of Sith space," The machine's heavy foot fall marched itself towards the window. "My life is irrelevant..." It aimed its gun out the window. "Get him to Coruscant, please,' It pleaded then seemed to process its inevitable end for a moment. With a steely resolve it began again "I will distract the Imperial troopers. Desmond must make it to the Corosian Phoneix," it finished as it jumped out the three-story window. Desmond could hear it land outside with a tumultuous bang.

"What the!" Blaster fire "There it is! After it!"

Desmond could feel the sweat beginning to bead upon his brow. The Rebellion. "Feth, im in deep," he squelched

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen looked between the pair, a brow raised above his golden eyesas he took in the droid's proposal and pleas. The corner of his lips twitched at the title they had thrust upon him. Master jedi. He hadn't been called that in decades. Of course, he couldn't expect anyone to know what a wilder was in most parts of the galaxy. What's more, a golden saber, even with a black blade, would be far more likely to belong to one of the robed guardians of democracy than any other faction.

Of course, he had barely any time to correct the droid's assumptions before an ultimatum blared in his ears and the machine was defenestrating itself in a dramatic crash of blasterfire and glass. Calmly, he reached into his cloak and produced a golden fox faced mask which he slipped over his face. "Valde to Trident. I've picked up an HVT. Status unknown. Give me a corridor to extract." His attention returned to Desmond Cartyom . "Introductions can be done on the move. Stay close and I'll keep you in one piece." With that, he turned and headed out the way he had come. While he didn't know much about this supposed imperial, he had a pretty good impression that this was not a place filled with his friends. That made Vulpesen the chiss' best option.