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Barracks


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Post Fri Dec 21, 2012 10:19 pm

Barracks

*In an outer region of the Academy lies what most of the current enrollment affectionately refer to as Hell. Wooden buildings, closely resembling long shacks, line the outer walls of the academy in droves that seem to extend far beyond the visible range. An endless and multi-rowed aisle. The areas between the wooden locations are beaten down roads lacking any form of pavement and only exist by the very nature of the encampment. Running.

Running is seen far and wide, women and men, armorless and armored. The regiment followed a strict physical standard and the sergeants and battalion leaders made sure to keep to the code. That was the nature of the academy and the barracks. There was a code for everything and the code was always followed. No matter where you walked through the barracks, the evidence of patrolling and running could be either seen or heard.

On the outskirts of the barracks, a good distance from the wall that separated the barracks from the academy, stood a large stone building that housed the intelligence department for ground based organization and large meeting locations for debriefings. Obstacle courses, landing pads, and shooting ranges littered the fields behind the academy.*
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Post Sat Jan 12, 2013 12:53 am

Re: Barracks

*They say that nothing grows on Korriban but death and hate, a nexus of darkness in the darkness of space. But lone rangers, Ironwood, stood solemn in the areas of the planet most torn by wind and dust storms. Bark as hard as rocks, flesh much like the sinew of muscle, leafless limbs outstretched like phantoms seeking more, these trees seemed as cold and decayed as the lords of the Sith Academy that looked upon them from the distances. Much like the Academy, useless branches and useless acolytes crawled up the trunk, abandoned by the inner biological systems and left for dead. But they appeared inflamed, as if the hard bark was attempting to overgrow the lost branches, attempting to hide the mistake of ambition. So too did the skeletons of this planet litter the soil, rigid and decayed fingers the grassy patches of the land. The soil was bloated and swelled with corpses that now were more abundant then those living on Korriban. No one could ever forget the mistakes of the past, no matter how much the land attempted to hide it. Tombs were like honeycombs, treasure depots for despots who sought more, hungering and supping on power and tyranny.

They called this place a graveyard, but it was more alive than anyone could ever imagine. Ruins and dirt paths stretched out across the red and orange soil, a hand strangling what little life remained. Reanimated, the planet shook with tremors in anticipation of emancipation. Nature would take it all back in the long run, but the hurt and pain ran too deep. Time was the only cure to push the poison out and it was all too difficult when the stinger remained deep within the wound. But the stinger was merely the medium, the true cause of such trauma laid at the feet of stone columns that supported the intelligence building of the Sith Academy. Always productive, always producing more and more toxin to break the strength of the planet, to create a confine within itself. At the head of production rested the commonly recycled, always changing but never different. A lord or lady, they would say, but it was always the same. And when they had fallen and failed, they would be replaced, covered up, and forgotten, like dead branches on the Ironwood.*


*The Holonet receiver chimed loudly and obnoxiously, as if the whole world was set aflame. The human sitting at the desk reached forward and activated the switch, taking what some would consider a call.*



*The image of a man, not large in nature, but Kiffar in breed and race, appeared in a blue and white shimmer of star specked dust and pixels. While the base of the projector rotated, the formation of the man within the cone seemed to steady itself, as if an image of propellar formed by achieving full velocity. The man had a long face, dark hair that extended down his decorated military uniform, and black and white tattoos that extended the length of his face. He was a wiry figure of stance and strength.*

"Lord Donneely Durant of Regret, second in command to Lord Avius of Kuat Defense and Military Strategy. We have been issued requirements to debrief your facilities on the need for defense."

*The human, dressed in traditional black robes, seemed uncomfortable as he shifted in his chair, leaning against the natural recline. He aggressively scratched his top knot.*



*Durant merely smiled at the retort, allowing a pause in time for the young man to understand the gravity of the current situation.*

"You misunderstand. Korriban is now under the protection of the Dark Tide. Whether you care what I or Lord Avius thinks is of no consequence. He is now your master and you will do as commanded or reap the consequences of me having to interrupt him during a meeting. You've never met anyone as powerful as he is, take my word on that."

*The truth was that there were few individuals that knew Walter as well as Durant, with the exception of a cocky admiral and a brunette. The fact that he even had to refer to his master as Lord Avius, instead of his true name, was offensive to his sense of normalcy. Some time ago, he recalled an attempt, while at the Academy on Korriban, to excavate relics from the tomb of Freedon Nad. Interrupted by Lord Avius, he made attempt at his life and was easily dealt with. Despite being the top of his class, many years ago, Lord Avius dispatched him with relative ease. The simplicity of the gesture has always stuck with him as something to appreciate, if not a token of future potential.*



"Fair enough. I will complete the conversation with commands, then. You will be acting commander, in Lord Avius' absence, of the Korriban Defense Unit. You will be specifically in charge of the Regret Battallion, same as myself. Your second in command has already been chosen...A "Bemere Melkans." I believe she has some experience with combat situations. The other eight Battalions will be chosen at your leave."

*The human leaned forward, hands cupped in front of his face.*



"We are well aware of her history. Now, we will need a detailed report of your current supplies and number of useable ground forces. We will supplement your battalions with the native sons and daughters of Kuat."

*The vast responsibility of this position was filling the young humans eyes with doubt, or was it excitement. It was as if rebelliousness and braggadocio were replaced with compliance. Yet, the subtle nuances between doubt and excitement were difficult for Durant to tell through the holoprojector on Kuat and he had never grown close enough with anyone to sense that sort of emotion over long distances. He had always found such communication baffling, that so much could be derived from singular images sent across space and time. Why not just use a telecommunicator and be done with it?*



"Are we not supplied by Kuat Drive Yards? Are you not in charge of the Korriban Defense Unit? Next time we speak, please leave the bib at home and bring your big boy trousers. Durant out."

*The Holoprojector cut off in a miniature explosion of white light, as close to a lens flare as Jacob had seen in quite some time. It had been so long since they used the communicator in the academy barracks that the projection gained a bit of age as settled dust was interrupted and flung in the scheme of things. With the talk over, he began to gather his thoughts and move towards bigger purpose.*
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Post Sun Jan 13, 2013 3:14 pm

Re: Barracks


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