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Satja Askarin
Vherokior Combat Logistics Minmatar Republic
17
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Posted - 2014.03.28 02:22:00 -
[1] - Quote
As the briefing session came to a close the Templar was still in a foul mood.
Galm had made himself an enemy, there was no mistaking that, as the look on Kador's face said everything. For sometime she tried to puzzle out why he was in such a bad mood. Surely man's idle threats made no lasting impression. Her master was immortal after all, chosen by God to carry out his will across the stars.
For the briefest of moment she felt a sense of pride. She was helping this man. Being a part of the Immortal Destiny of the Amarr..... but that feeling passed as she internally scolded herself. Pride in doing one's duty was meaningless. Duty was its own reward, something she had learnt amongst the Praetoriani.
Beside her the Templar gave Galm a thunderous look, eye brows raised, as deep lines were carved into his...she supposed handsome face, green eyes practically afire with and anger she hadn't seen for a long time.
As the other mercenaries stood and moved off to the consciousness exchange tubes she took the moment to address him, perhaps her reassurance would be of some comfort to him, as it had been in the past.
"Does the operation trouble you Classiarii" she purposely had taken on a softer tone, it would do her well to ease the tension between Galm and Kador before something would break out as she had done once before.
His response was immeadiate and curt. "No."
"Then is it the fatigue?" She said thinking off how he had almost collapsed, trembling uncontrollably in the shuttle bay.
This time the response was slower. "No."
It was part of it, she could tell. She moved from her seat hunkering down in front of him in a very unladylike like manner. Lord preserve him he looked gaunt. The traditional heavily sun tanned skin was pale, eyes were sunken, his face was slack, features not held in their normal dignified fashion.
"It is not? There is no shame in refusing the job if you need more time.... the Desync is still affecting you..." She tried to force him to meet her gaze..... which he did reluctantly. She gave him a warm smile.
"But I know you won't.... it's not your way."
With a growing satisfaction she saw his face light up a modicum of colour returning to his flesh... though whether that was shame or confidence she knew not.
" Wormhole space is somewhere I would love to see you know. To serve as you do your duty to our people"
Our people she thought horrified at her down arrogance..... She was not Amarr, even if she wished contrary. She offered those words as more a question than a statement, and phrased in a way she knew he couldn't say no to.
"...... but I doubt I am coming with you."
********
Five minutes later the pair stood before the exchange tubes.
She stared with off fascination as the stasis fluid enveloped Denak's form, shied away, averting her gaze with a slight rush of blood to her face as a Gallentean stripped off his clothes in their entirety.
Does he know no shame, she thought, turning to address her master.
It wasn't often she dressed the man, or took his clothes from him for that matter, it was awkward and made her very uncomfortable. It was like sitting on the edge of wire....on one hand she was duty bound to serve a master so as to further his goals, and to further the Empire's goals, but as well he was like a friend, and the pair has shared nearly 2 years in one another company.
Her shoulder twinged painfully, a sensation of heat ran the length of her scars. They were such ugly things, and she was glad she had been given permission to grow out her traditionally shorter hair.
It was a simple process.... less awkward with the other mercenaries present she found. He stripped off roughly removing the sash, which he laid around the back of her neck. It was so pleasant to the touch, soft silken fabric, and looked impressive, with the Red of the Praetoriani against the Gold of the Templares. He handed her each aspect of his clothing which she carefully folded and packed away. However like Denak, to her relief he retained his modesty...... at least the pair of clones she knew knew some dignity.
She watch again with fascination as Kador climbed into the tube, as Denak had done, and as the stasis fluid slowly covered his flesh. She for a moment though she could tangibly see the moment his soul leave the flesh, and whispered a brief prayer for the transferrals success.
With that she stepped back from the tubes awaiting for someone to tell her where to board the support vessels. |
Satja Askarin
Vherokior Combat Logistics Minmatar Republic
18
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Posted - 2014.04.01 22:02:00 -
[2] - Quote
The matari woman watched with increasing curiousity as the drones bobbed a wove around one another in, what she would have called, a strange and eerily precise dance.
The little machine was so complex. And almost possessed a life of its own, even if lacking true sentience, but such philosophical throughts did not occur to her, instead she was possessed of a childlike curiosity. Having never completed a formal education she knew she was neither as clever as even trueborn Amarrian children, but it did not phase her. One day she would be free to attend a school.
She noted for the first time that she was still carrying the Templar's outer clothes, hung neatly over her fore arm. Leaving the drone to its devices for a momment she began packing away the clothes into the duffel bag she carried, folding them with sharp lines as she had been taught, placing with reverence the Crimson sash on top of the pile.
She was a little sacred.
There were so many Immortal's here....and she was alone.....and they were angry. Angry enough that Denak, a man she had met before briefly during her night out the Second Hex, throw away his normally calm demeanor and become a terrifying vision of Immortal wrath.
But he looked kind..... in fact they all did. Even the man in the sunglasses, despite his lack of modesty. Perhaps Junko too....Satja thought it a fine notion indeed to speak with one of her former people, if not a perfect opportunity to speak in her native tongue.
She glanced up, looking for that drone. It was hovering around and armaments lock some ten meters to her left. Brushing the wrinkles from her clothes, a habit she had picked up when she was nervous, she rose, slinging back over her back, and made to follow the drone.
As she approached the drone darted off, following a zig zagging path out into a hallway. She followed, rounding the corner into the two hulking forms of Sergamon and Ventus.
They were speaking, perhaps jokingly she discerned form their tone. Beyond that she couldn't decipher what the pair were talking about. They spoke in a foreign tongue, perhaps Gallentean, but she could not know. She could speak fluently the dialect of her own people the Vherokior, and a passable if fractured rendition of Ammarad.
As such she had no way to discern even the slightest meaning of their conversation, to her it appeared as two comrades taking a quiet conversation.
She sucked in a breath, tried to fall back against the wall and press herself into one of the smaller recesses, but the duffel bag got in the way as she struggled to not be seen, dislodging the leather-bound Pax Amarria from her tunic, which crashed to the floor with a resounding thump.
God blast it, she thought desperately, made to dart for the portal back to the briefing room. |
Satja Askarin
Vherokior Combat Logistics Minmatar Republic
18
|
Posted - 2014.04.02 03:04:00 -
[3] - Quote
Why the hell did I run.... could have at least said hello...or bowed, she thought disgusted at the disrespect she had shown the two men.
But when that woman had appeared it had been the last straw. She bolted past her and made for one of the other locker rooms where she could have a moment to compose herself, or perhaps to work on a means of apology.
Hunter Junko wrote:
"Satja? are you here?"
She jumped as the works, unmistakably of Matari origin, though not of her own dialect, sounded behind her.
She looked back towards the door. Junko was standing there, her face also unmistakably of Mataroi original, tattoo, and all she looked like a fine representation of her former people. She was shaking. What would the woman do to her? Would she try to convince her to run....or fight...or....or.... who knew what.
As she entered Satja bowed low, respectfully, unwilling to meet her eyes, be they kind, or cruel, or judging.
"Ashaltiasten Ms Junko.... h-how might I serv... I mean what can I do for you." |
Satja Askarin
Vherokior Combat Logistics Minmatar Republic
19
|
Posted - 2014.04.03 03:22:00 -
[4] - Quote
Hunter Junko wrote:Satja Askarin wrote:
She jumped as the works, unmistakably of Matari origin, though not of her own dialect, sounded behind her.
She looked back towards the door. Junko was standing there, her face also unmistakably of Mataroi original, tattoo, and all she looked like a fine representation of her former people. She was shaking. What would the woman do to her? Would she try to convince her to run....or fight...or....or.... who knew what.
As she entered Satja bowed low, respectfully, unwilling to meet her eyes, be they kind, or cruel, or judging.
"Ashaltiasten Ms Junko.... h-how might I serv... I mean what can I do for you."
" whoa, whoa, whoa. calm down Satja" Junko said, raising her hands defensively. she walked a little closer, aware that she's probably Scaring her half to death. she unholstered the scrambler rifle she had on her back and set it against a wall, near the door. she made every attempt at calming satja down, when she remembered the book. " Breathe Satja, you look like you about to face god himself. I'm not gonna hurt ya, i just came by because you dropped this..." Reaching into her utility pouch on her right leg, she pulled out the leatherbound book, reaching out with it. "...and enough with the formalities, please. We are Sisters, you and I" Junko said with a smile. She used the term Sisters in Thukker custom, referring to another fellow Matari Female. she sat down, cross-legged, close to satja, but far enough that she could maintain her space.
She rose from the bow, noting the other matari woman had put down he arms and assumed a cross-legged position on the floor. She looked very different from the Minmatar Satja remembered..... but her own home had been am arid desert world, and as she knew well enough watching her master change, different climates bred different people.
She ran and hand the length of her right arm, her own sink was much darker, in part courtesy of the recent inclusion Brutor genetics in her genealogy, but more likely a result of the prolonged exposure to the arid desert climate of Iesa III.
Even so she was a little unsure of herself. Junko seemed nice enough, but immortals were capricious and whimsical, and more often than not...unstable.
Still she found herself sitting on her heels facing the woman, holding the duffel bag to her chest defensively. She reached out to clash the small leather-bound edition, returning it to one of the fold of her tunic.
Sisters, the word thrilled her as she had always wished for a sister, instead of the two brothers she had been "blessed" with. The very same brothers who made her youth miserable.
She took a deep breath, as Junko had suggested, it was cathartic. Slowly the nervousness fell away, the pair sat in a comfortable, companionable silence.
Such as it was she barely noticed as her raven hair slipped from her shoulder, falling across her back, revealing a section of the burns and heavy scarring.
It was exciting talking freely, or so she supposed, with an immortal, more over one of her former people, and to use her native language again..... to not feel like she was making herself a fool.... an exquisite feeling indeed.
"So....uh...Ms Junko.... may I ask what brought you here.... I mean...that I...well....I mean you don't really seem like much of a ....soldier..." She squeaked out the last word.... clasping a hand over her mouth with a mild blend of shock and curiosity, as though she was surprised at herself for asking, but curious nonetheless. |
Satja Askarin
Vherokior Combat Logistics Minmatar Republic
19
|
Posted - 2014.04.03 21:37:00 -
[5] - Quote
Hunter Junko wrote:Satja Askarin wrote:
Still she found herself sitting on her heels facing the woman, holding the duffel bag to her chest defensively. She reached out to clash the small leather-bound edition, returning it to one of the fold of her tunic.
Sisters, the word thrilled her as she had always wished for a sister, instead of the two brothers she had been "blessed" with. The very same brothers who made her youth miserable.
She took a deep breath, as Junko had suggested, it was cathartic. Slowly the nervousness fell away, the pair sat in a comfortable, companionable silence.
Such as it was she barely noticed as her raven hair slipped from her shoulder, falling across her back, revealing a section of the burns and heavy scarring.
It was exciting talking freely, or so she supposed, with an immortal, more over one of her former people, and to use her native language again..... to not feel like she was making herself a fool.... an exquisite feeling indeed.
"So....uh...Ms Junko.... may I ask what brought you here.... I mean...that I...well....I mean you don't really seem like much of a ....soldier..." She squeaked out the last word.... clasping a hand over her mouth with a mild blend of shock and curiosity, as though she was surprised at herself for asking, but curious nonetheless.
Junko knew the question before Satja even finished saying "here" but she allowed Satja to continue, right up until the end, when she clasped a hand over her mouth. ' hard question to ask, even harder to answer without spilling the beans' Junko thought. but she covered up her thoughts with a soft chuckle. "good observation Satja. your right, Before i was a Soldier, i was a pilot." She said, in her dialect. Junko then opened her arms out for a small fraction of a second. "big cargo ships, the mammoth-class to be precise. T.F S'eterra, that was the name of my Ship. but i wasn't a capsuleer, oh no i was the captain of that ship. a good crew as well, from every single background you can imagine.
Satja stared at the woman, lips parted, the whole affair sounded so exciting, so debonair. Roaming the stars aboard a ship, eking out a living here and there. She knew the feeling as her duty ensured that she was stationed aboard starships while Kador was on duty.
"And what did you transport? Where to? I mean...well" She asked, gushing. " It sounds wonderful....Have you seen those storm planets from space... so beautiful."
She briefly revisited the moment she had seen her homeworld from space, aboard one of a dozen slave ships, how Camden had asked them which of them wanted to come with him back to the empire, how she had gone, clasping her father's hand, with the glares of her brothers and mother like daggers.
She discarded the train of thought. It mean nothing to her now, she was happy as she was.
" I love being able to travel the stars.... It's incredible..."
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Satja Askarin
Vherokior Combat Logistics Minmatar Republic
19
|
Posted - 2014.04.09 22:59:00 -
[6] - Quote
Satja waited patiently in an enraptured silence as Junko retold countless stories of her travels throughout New Eden aboard her vessel, she listened intently about the crew, everything form their little quirks to how they came to be aboard the ship, then on to the ship itself, and on to some of their cargo.
It sounded incredible..... it also sounded very familiar. A slight crackling at her ear was the first indication her personal communications were being contacted. All external sound was drowned out in a moment, before Kador's voice cut through the silence.
" Little one. Your presence is required.....I..."
He cut off abruptly, something on his end she suspected, and was vindicated when seconds later he continued speaking, his voice a stronger, less fatigued, filled with purpose.
"We have little time....make your arrangements report to me, and we shall board the cruiser. Understood?"
She rose from the floor, aware of Junko's eyes following her as she did.
"Understood Classiarii, on my way."
She turned to face the Matari woman, bowing low, in a respectful gesture, rising with a smile on her face, deep brown eyes flashing.
"Many apologies Junko, it was a pleasure to sit and talk with you...but I have matters to be attending. I would be appreciative if perhaps we might do this again at a later time."
With that she turned to leave, slinging the duffel bag over her shoulderleft shoulder, straightening her hair over her right. Internally she was a little conflicted. Mortified that she had been displaying the ugly scars she bore, but also pleased, and relieved that Junko had not commented on them.
She passed from the locker rooms, followed the corridor back towards the main briefing room, passing the swarm of drones, and a pair of technical officers dressed in drab whites and greys.
She stopped momentarily to ask one of them, a blonde man if he had seen the Templar. At first he looked concerned possibly for her safety but eventually explained that the he had seen a towering Amarrian soldier by the chapel. Thanking him she continued down a number of corridors until she could make out the towering form of Kador.
She presented herself before him wordlessly.
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