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