Not So Long Ago...

[Lamar Starworth]

Not So Long Ago...

An eerie silence consumed the cold, durasteel plated room. A lull fell over the crowd that fell in a perfect line. Every man and about four women scattered about the grouping of nearly 100 men in the shell of a room. Normally the clump of beings would stretch out their legs to catch a better balance and stature, but instead because of the small arrangements they stood straight. The human's chins rose only slightly from the norm as their eyes stared idle ahead. Every person, with his or her unique features, did this for moments on in. A single man stood before them, his body nicely outfitted in a black double-breasted long-sleeve and a cap to match. The man was an Imperial Officer, and with the drooping of his cheeks and crackling of his pale skin there was a certain aura of wisdom reeking from his pores. The dark of his eyes carefully judged the dispatch of humans before him. He waited for a flinch, the observer’s eyes becoming narrower as the humid room built in body heat.

The officer twitched, quickly.

The black of his eyes, corresponding with his attire, looked to where the sound came. A small bead of sweat laid a long the gray tile. There was a snarl upon the man's face now, distorting the purity that could once be seen in his aged features. The transformation from a wise elder to a demonic villain was quick and nearly unnoticed by the idle participates of his examination.

Slowly turning on the heels of his black boots, their came a whispering squeak from under before an abrupt thud smacked onto the ground. Dust flew from the tiles, forming a small cloud of brown at the man's feet. The place had been used for a while, especially this particularly unique building. Even in the minimized size to comparison of the other facilities it had been used in numerous One-on-One examinations, and breaking or exposing of great soldiers. People snapped all over the places around that room and for a moment the Imperial Trooper Officer could only reminiscence on the days that he had trained as a younger man. The vile mask of the demon slowly melted off, leaving the wisdom to be seen once more. Once again his eyes were calm, in all their darkness. Illuminating every man he took a calm, careful staring at, he began with his announcement.

"Everyone do push-ups. We aren't done yet...not by a long shot." The old man peered over the crowd as they quickly dropped. Sweat ran over their well-coated frames. Every man and woman had been ordered to wear the light gray jumpsuits that they had been given only a week previous at the Introduction Meeting at the Hangar Bay. It wasn't exactly heat friendly, nor did it prevent a horrid smell of body odor from leaking through. After hours upon hours of standing motionless in the heated room not a single one could help but notice the infuriating stench that overcame their frail nostrils.

It was true for the Officer as well, and he quickly took the disadvantage into an advantage. Smoothly walk across the front of the crowd, he headed out of the small quarters and watched from a nearby glass window outside the establishment. Clicking on the facility comm., he let his words steam through. The words were a breathe of fresh air, something else to focus on. At least the first word was...the rest seemed to make everything worst.

"Stop! All of you increase the speed. I want 100 as soon as I re enter the room. The holo cam is watching every last one of you."

Sweat puked from everyone's pores. Yet one, much less than the other's lay pushing away. The beads of his dangling, black, artistically locked hair beat against the back of his neck in a rhtyhm that'd blow D'an's Fizz Band away. It repeatidally banged against his caramel flesh, the calmness on his facing standing out amongst the strained beings about him. His eyes were that of a TIE targetting system, locked definitively on the surface below as he pushed away the strenous aches that consumed his being.

The man, from even a glance, was clearly new to such a title. Even though his body in shape spelled out "manliness" to the fullest, his face was young. All the youth splashed across his face, overwhelming it with a sheer cuteness that deserved the pinching of grandmother's across the galaxy. Yet through all the detail it shaked furiously. Pressing himself up once more, his face shook in a rattle that'd match an old starship's engine. This was focus, this was precision, this was prestige.

Once an observer, the man standing behind the glass became transfixed with the figure with braids. It wasn't the locks upon the man's head, it was the lock in his attention that disfigured the privately seen face. The Imperial Officer was confused, surprised and almost taken aback by such uncanny push. Even though other's about the man held the same speed, their faces weren't filled with the calm that the newly certified man had. It was interesting indeed...

[Lamar Starworth]

"Ow, flack, fre--"

"Calm down."

The two distinct voices echoed in the hollow room. A sparkling radiance warped the room into a cold, mechanical nature that could leave the most casual personality uneasy. Mechanical devices poked their heads from the ceiling, the sparks of the weird objects illuminating corners and centres of the small, boxed arena. The room was a cold, sea, blue of durasteel that held an external armor that couldn't be pierced by a laser ray. A few Stormtroopers sat motionless at the entrance, lined in ready stance awaiting their order from a superior.

Obidence was certainly key in a place like this.

"What are you doing?" The once curse-layered voice inquired, finally at ease after the painful piercing.

A needle lay in the other man's hand. Even though his attire was indifferent to many other Imperial Officers, attire in more grey fittig, he bared the badges like all the others. He was a medic, and from the sure motions and confidence that was an aura about his being there was a clear assumption that could be made from even a small examination. The man was someone of prestige, class and elegance.

"Just going through some procedures for the testing. We do this with all of the rest of the cadets, so just calm yourself."

"I'm calm, just ya don't have to--"

A light groan broke his response as another needle rode itself on the other side of his arm. Rolling his eyes into the back of his head, a steady breathe escaped his mouth. Counting followed, forming a small calming sequence. The pain wasn't as painful as it was frustrating and annoyance. It was a unique testing of blood samples, DNA and bodily functions. This man, this braided young man was nearing finally nearing the finish and there was no lollipop at the end of the meeting. Instead he found a stern stare upon him from the patient Imperial Medic.

"Okay, head off Lamar. We are all done here. Return to your dormitory in the 3rd Branch."

Leaping off the small table, Lamar rolled slowly his sleeve down. Staring coldly back at the man, he awaited the perfect timing. In sudden pace, a smile formed on his face to await the blinking Medic's eyes. Finally feeling the cold breeze of the wind rolling into his dangling, pressed sleeve Lamar was out the door. Behind him came the Stormtroopers, their hands tightly clutching their standard equipped blaster rifles. It was going to be an awkward year getting use to the presence of officers, but hopefully at the end there was something of worth in the studies.

"Branch 3..." The braided youth murmured to himself as he rolled a long a corner, heading to the branch of the base. The place was gigantic, in terms of comparision to the other bases of operation that Lamar had seen. Such places had been scattered across the galaxy, but Cardia was the best. They over the years delivered the best of the Imperial Officers who grew to be memorable members of the Empire.

It was here Lamar was going to sleep. Opening the door with the entrance code given to him earlier, he nodded at the troopers and fell on the bed. In record time the "Zzzs" proceeded.

[Lamar Starworth]

"Wake the flack up, you mugs!"

The words were projected over a speaker that had been annoyingly set in the middle of every hall. At the slightest sound the base rumbled with movement. Woman strapped on their bras, men jumped in their drawls. The rudimentary always came first, and it was to be expected in a Basic Training Facility. People swarmed out the rooms at lightning speeds, dashing through the hall ways in crowded lines, bumping against each other for the lead. Even at the sound of anger in the comm-speakers as they jumbled in a pot of insects running through ramps, sliding on rails and any other platform in hopes of getting a step closer to the finish line. Some were heading to the fields, others to isolated rooms or chambers, but all of them were heading to become Troopers.

However...the rudimentary had to come first.

Out in the fields, near the cliff side that the base sat upon there was a small company of men and a few women. One wouldn't realize the women though, they had been asked to wear their hair tied back or in a bun of some sort, leaving their facial features to be blended in the run of men. If it wasn't for their height and natural beauty anyone could easily conclude that this was a facility for men only.

Before them, however, stood a woman in all her feminine nature. Dressed in the mandatory black double-breasted shirt and pants, she left the cap at the quarters allowing her beautiful black hair to dangle. She was a rarity amongst the Galactic Empire in all ways. A woman was exactly seen as fit in the military, but that wasn't the only unique features about her. She was extremely tall, but the weirdest attribute to her was that she was a Falleen. Rarely did anyone hold relations between the Falleen as a species and the Empire as a government in good grace. The tales had riddled the galaxy with the situation that cascaded the Falleen's homeworld and practically anyone that was even half of a somebody knew that something was wrong between the two.

Yet in still a Falleen, of common-found beauty, stood motionless decked in Imperial Trooper Uniform ready to teach a class. Such a rare occasion, just as it was for one of the other company's hair to dangle in braids. The beads that once were had been replaced for a night black with insigna of the Empire incrested on every one. The ceremonial, cultural braids had been transformed, altered...ever so slightly to be sworn to the Imperial views. No one noticed but the one with the elegant style of hair, but it was slightly terrifying that such little time had seperated his choice of the Empire over the Rebellion and he had already sworn himself...seemingly...completely.

"Today you piece of eopie doo will do a simple task...even for you idiots. Jump off this cliff."

The men and women blinked in complete puzzlement. Over the last few days they had learned not to debate orders, for many had been quickly expelled to their homes or worst. They were simple rumors, but close friends amongst their groups never got a comm. back. No one really knew exactly how the situations were resolved, but not a single person there wanted to die.

After a moment of heart wrenching silenced a few people strolled slowly forward before taking a sudden jump. The braided fellow stood motionless, his hands open and pointed like a dagger toward his sides. Lamar weighted the two acts, and his previous behavior. Even as he stared, coldly ahead, he knew there was far more too this excersize than the Falleen Fatale wanted to dispell. He wasn't that stupid...and nor were the others that remained. It wasn't many though.

"Scum." The Falleen muttered as she spinned on her boots, gazing down over his shoulder at the crumbled figures that lay disfigured bleow. Their bodies had smashed with unconceivable force, bashed apart and scrapped with dirt within their wounds. The impact was fatal and even from a grouped assumption there was "no way" that the scum had survived the fall.

"Well then, that cuts down some of you. Now behind we have some smart ones," She paused here, taking the moment to walk slowly a long the line up. "Every soldier should know that not every order is the right one. Supporting the Empire doesn't mean you support foolishness. It means you fight and die for the better of all.

In some way those scum riding themselves of existence did help the Empire though."

The Falleen cackled in Lamar's face as she stopped, her eyes squeezing shut with pleasure. Her green head cocked back, allowing the glare of her teeth to be shown. Lamar simply frowned in defeat, but soon the demonic chuckle ended and all was lull.

"Now, we will head to the other side of Cardia. Today's real excersize will begin there..."

[Lamar Starworth]

Crrrk

The forest grounds cracked under the slowly moving feet. Darkness consumed the sphere's sky, leaving the occupants of the woods without anything but the single moon to see. Frowns grew on the forest visitor's face as they peered carefully about, ever cautious of their movements. The sound, however, shattered the dull lull that cascaded with conjunction of the darkness the lively world they knew before. Lamar was part of the company, on the campaign for survival. Left with the worst equiptment, the grouping held only wooden hilts with sharpened stones for weaponary. Every night they would venture at a check point derived from their leader's datapad that was given to the other's as well for more equipment, more food...for survival.

For the last week they had gone without food. Sleeping on wooden logs, broken twigs and fallen leaves. Some even fell accidently onto some poo-doo, but in the end they gave a hint to some tracks of animals nearby. The hunting was the worst, and Lamar was probably the best spokesperson for their faults. Coruscant natives were not to be expected to be as good at such natural grounds and it was that thought which gave him the chill reminiscing the Colonel's cackle before him. Colonel Zixa was renown for her ventures in battle, especially as a tactican, but yet and still she was left with the duties of a simple instructor. Everyone that was anyone at the base knew that it bit at her so, and the only sense of glee she could draw from the pathetic occupation was inflicting pain on the emotional.

And how so were the cadets emotional...

"I hate this frag and that flutie Colonel!" Someone muttered. The dark of the night left Lamar's eyes useless in concluding, but his ears and long week had allowed for him to quickly fit the voice to a face. During the daylight the group got to know each other, and the rigid-tongued Corellian. He had decided to join the Empire for the "benefits"; woman and credits basically.

There wasn't anyone like him amongst the 12 person bunch but he was certainly likable. He wasn't the leader, but every word he spoke someone in the group could relate to.

"Yah. I'm sick of creeping around like womp rats. We're heading in at maker-speed. Circle the check point with a 60 feet diameter. 6 People pointing toward it, the others pointing outward. We need some food!

Crisbon!" The leader called, quickly jogging ahead, leaving the group to follow orders.

Lamar was the first, and soon the rest took to their places. It was certainly going to be an interesting night...

[Lamar Starworth]

Silence.

It consumed the lands once more as the creeping footsteps of the squad took to a hush and there was motionless across the desginated secured locations. In the darkness there was a sense of omniscence to those that stared within the light-less bounds. Sight had been canceled and the rest of their sensory took to a heightened potence that left them with sheer confidence and coherency. Not a peep came from them and so their ears stared quite dull in their potent, precise swallows of lull.

Lamar sat with his back against the new found companion, renown and knowned as Jiraxx. He was a likable lad, especially for any guy because of his jolly, joking personality. The very persona that pused form his pores was friendly and left even the most stern of the squadron melting the blockade that left their cold souls whimpering in surrender.

Everyone and anyone could be his friend. Never once, like the others, did he complain about the Falleen as a race because of it's stubborn repersentive that they just came in contact with. Not once did he go out of his way to insult anyone or join the cloud of offensive words. He was just an easy guy to talk to and Lamar liked that. Especially when it always seemed like they were always on their last breath. It made the moments of conversation all the more cherished.

"Man, I'm hungry."

Lamar murmured, allowing his words only to escape in the rings of Jiraxx's ears. Glancing over to the side, he looked carefully over his shoulder, his eyes unable to see, but could feel the presence of Jiraxx body against his back. For a moment there wasn't a sound, just that haunting silence that was ever so often swept away by a calm, whispering breeze. It wheezed over the land, but it didn't take it's chance to break the silence before Jiraxx.

"Yah, I'm hungry too. I'm craving for one of those Eopie Legs. Thats when you know it is bad," Jiraxx quickly whispered.

A smirk of satisfacation of socializing rose on Lamar's full lips. It had became all the more rare for him to smile, it was hard. War had torn through the baracades of privacy and security throughout the galaxy, even on the well protected Coruscant. Over the years Lamar had just become another vicitim to the adrenaline that pumped throughout all citizens, leaving them to push their weight off into the field of combat or at least to spectate as a participant. People wanted to know that their fears were being crushed...especially when it was them that were crushing it.

Even as the moments tore on in seperation to the last words from Jiraxx, the smirk still stayed on Lamar's face. He was satisfied with life at that moment, even to the point of letting the strop grip on the stoned-knife loosen. Yet it didn't, for his conscious told him any moment there could be an attack...

"I hear someth---"