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Kelly Perris
Oct 17th, 2009, 11:46:47 AM
The job was done, the price paid. The Valiant and her charges retreated into the relative safety of hyperspace and an Imperial cruiser was left stripped of an entire squadron of TIEs. It was certain the attacking squadron had not been that of the commander's prior colleagues, the Shadows. The markings on the TIEs had been lacking and the side to side losses far from equal. But equality and fair play weren't the shape of things in Rogue One's mind.<o></o>
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While the other side suffered greater losses, the absence of even one of his own far outstripped any other numbers. Of all the duties accorded to him, memorials left the greatest distaste in his mouth, Informing the families of those lost was a duty he would gladly assign to another, if not for his own honour denying him the assuaging, safe feeling of cowardice. For this instance, due to transmissions silence, the message sat waiting in the queue and that fact bothered the Alderaanian. Braden Bailey's loved ones would not be made privy to his passing until an undetermined point in the future. All these things passed through his mind as he looked on to the final preperations for the memorial service. Personnel were gathering - soon, it would begin. Mere moments now. Frost had not been a Rogue for long, but in that time, he had without a doubt proved that he belonged, in spirit and duty. Perris would let them know.<o></o>
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“Though the memories are few, it is that small number that aids them to stand out amongst the many. It is with sadness, fondness and respect that we have gathered today to honour the memory of Braden 'Frost' Bailey...”<o></o>
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***
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A few days earlier...<o></o>
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There were concerns. It wasn't as if they had been traipsing freely through Imperial space. More than cautiously, the convoy made their way around it wherever possible. What was bothering Commander Perris was the matter of just how their position had been found out and compromised. It bothered him more than it should have. Irrational, heated thoughts pertaining to the ‘precious cargo’ and having to do with his fists slipped in and out of his head as he mulled the situation on the way to the shuttle, one Leela Vorega leading the way.<o></o>
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He knew that it likely wasn’t their fault. That maybe, somewhere, someone had made an insignificantly small error and some brownnosing junior officer on the Imperial side had picked up on it. He wanted someone to blame – he always did after the loss of a pilot. It never got easier, no matter how many succumbed to enemy fire.<o></o> The pilot commander closed the gap to walk alongside the woman who was his superior in rank.
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“Do you believe in any of this 'force' business?” Kelly questioned, in between quick paces. “Because honestly, Lee, it's about the only thing that I think might save any number of them from my handing out a world of hurt.”<o></o>
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Again, not their fault. For the record, Kelly Perris had always believed in the very 'Force business' he now questioned, for so many years. His own father had stories of the Jedi, which he imparted to his son upon swearing Kelly to solemn silence on the matter. The commander was having trouble with that faith now, right when the Jedi quite clearly walked amongst the crew and mingled with his squadron.<o></o>
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“Sorry..." He started, shoving his hands into his pockets. "...this whole thing's just made me ticked. I wanna punch someone or something. I've lost a pilot, Lee. You know just as well as I do that it never gets any easier no matter how many times it happens.”<o></o>