BUCKETHEAD

Kal Thule

Character
Sith Empire
Rank
Corporal

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Sin
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BUCKETHEAD: Newbie

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Imperial Assault Corps 101st Regimental HQ, Isk Company Barracks, Enlisted Lounge
Taris, Ojostor Sector, Outer Rim
02 days after completing basic training, 145 ABY

"This sets us apart from the Sith Empire, who continue to invade planets right and left. Ossus, Byblos, Kabal, Spirana, Taris, Denon. And who could forget the devastation of Firrerre? The Sith Empire bombarded that planet without mercy and without warn-“

Thule unenthusiastically terminated the recording with the mash of a button. It was Galactic news…something Kal had limited exposure to prior to joining the Imperial Armed Forces. To him—leaving Dantooine, enlisting with the Empire, space travel, the Taris cityscape, basic training—it was all a huge dose of culture shock. Nothing, however, was more disenchanting than the HoloNet…

Every time Private Thule was exposed to it, be it voluntarily or otherwise, the HoloNet always seemed to be filled with characters like this Senator Graves. Individuals demonstrating how gifted they (or perhaps their staff) were with crafting convincing speeches. None of it resonated with Kal, it was all propaganda. Words meant to manipulate those who would believe them into fashioning up some sort of support for the person or party presenting them. Fortunately, blabbing in the media wasn’t a frequent thing for the Empire—based upon his very limited experience thus far. It would’ve been doubly displeasing if the worthless words were coming from someone sharing his uniform.

The young man sighed unnoticeably, exhaling his thoughts about politics and the media, purging them out of his system. Standing up, he briefly policed his uniform to perfection and surveyed his surroundings for something else to capture his attention. Others from Isk Company were enjoying their hard earned downtime. Some were playing games like sabacc and dejarik, while a handful were tucked away in various corners out of earshot making personal calls back home to their friends and families.

The Battalion had recently returned from a deployment, Thule wasn’t privy to the details. He wasn’t privy to much at all, as it turned out, he was just the ‘newbie’. He’d been treated and regarded exclusively as such ever since he’d been assigned to the 101st out of basic training.

His first day with the Regiment was spent with Admin doing paperwork, Supply getting issued gear, and Comms going over Imperial security protocols specific to the Assault Corps. They made him run through the IAF's Combat Fitness Test even though he'd just graduated basic for IAF and IAC. Thule was dressed out and inspected in every Imperial uniform he'd been issued. And despite having passed everything...he received no feedback from anyone...not a soul bothered to acknowledge him unless it was necessary to issue orders or give task direction.

Day two, today, was a complete turnaround. The 3-101st was granted a day of liberty and Kal wholly expected it would apply to everyone but himself. The fact that he was standing in the lounge looking around was proof that he'd been wrong. He wondered, maybe they thought I did alright yesterday after all. The thought disappeared, almost as if he'd deleted it the moment his brain conjured it up. Have to stay sharp, he remembered his training, be ready for anything. Unsure if he was actually being prepared, or perhaps just paranoid...the Private was sure of one thing: he didn't want to get caught with his pants down.

He was the newbie.


 
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Kal Thule

Character
Sith Empire
Rank
Corporal

Character Profile
Link
OOC
Sin
Joined
Oct 21, 2021
Messages
13
Reaction score
21

BUCKETHEAD: Forward

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Imperial Assault Corps 101st Regimental HQ, Isk Company Barracks, Squad Bay
Taris, Ojostor Sector, Outer Rim
10 days after completing basic training, 145 ABY

This is it, Kal proclaimed to himself. His sergeant had just returned from a meeting with their platoon leader. Their battalion was to be mobilized and the WARNORD had already been drafted and sent. "When it's documented, it's official," some of his squad mates would say. Regrettably, albeit reasonably so, many of his comrades didn't share his excitement.

They hadn't been back, on Taris, for more than a few weeks and they were already being deployed again. Nobody in Thule's platoon was killed in action on their last deployment, the only casualties were combat droids. However, the battalion as a whole wasn't so lucky. Strangely, this didn't bother him... Being here was his dream, fear of dying had never been on his list of worries when he made the decision to enlist with the Empire back on Dantooine. What was concerning was the fact that he'd enlisted back on Dantooine. He was from Dantooine. And they were being called to action to...Dantooine...

Once again, the newbie didn't have any of the specifics, all he knew was that they were gearing up and getting ready to move out within the next three cycles. Perhaps it would've ripped at him more if preparations didn't start—

"Now!" Thule turned to, the voice of his squad leader compelling him into submission. "Let's go, Private! Get kitted up! Head over to the armory, check out your weapons, and do your pre-mission inspections!"

"Roger, roger." Kal obediently—almost robotically—responded, falling in line with the rest of his squad to carry out their orders.

Roger, roger. There it was again. Frag... He couldn't stop saying it. The Private had clearly read too many stories from the Clone Wars. It wasn't the first time he'd allowed his time spent in books to influence his understanding of this new life, his new life. It was something his colleagues had picked up on when he was going through basic training, where he'd embarrassingly earned the nickname 'Clone'. Fortunately, nobody from Isk Company had picked up on it yet. Either they hadn't noticed, or they just didn't care enough about him to even acknowledge it.

It didn't matter, it literally was of no consequence. His choice of response, his mannerisms, his personality, his background, his identity...none of it mattered. He was a body, a soldier, with one purpose—executing the orders of his superiors. Forward, always forward. That was the motto of the Imperial Assault Corps. If Kal Thule wanted to be recognized, if he wanted respect, he would have to earn it. And so earn it he would, forward, on the Warmaster's battlefront. And in order to do that...he would have to survive.

Forward. Survive.
 
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Kal Thule

Character
Sith Empire
Rank
Corporal

Character Profile
Link
OOC
Sin
Joined
Oct 21, 2021
Messages
13
Reaction score
21


BUCKETHEAD: Reflection


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Imperial Assault Corps 101st Regimental HQ, Isk Company Barracks, Squad Bay
Taris, Ojostor Sector, Outer Rim
01 day after returning from Dantooine, 146 ABY


KLANK-KLANK-KLANK

The razor blades tapped the inside of the sink, dismissing what remnants of water and minuscule hair particles it could in order to save itself from premature disposal. The hand that commanded it to do so, meticulously placed it back into the spit kit from which it came. After doing so, that same hand moved up to the newly barbered face and scalp of a sapped soldier that stood morbidly before one of the many mirrors in the refresher, inspecting his grooming work for imperfections.

He sighed, abandoning his assessment before feeling the entirety of his head and face as per the usual. His head dropped down like an anchor, kept from crashing into the faucet only by the occipital bone that connected it to his spine. Hunched over, with both palms resting on opposite sides of the sink, he looked up at himself again...

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Months? His reflection said years... Is this what war does to you?

Private Thule departed Taris not too long ago a youthful spirit, filled with excitement for the days where he'd be plunged into chaos, fighting the enemies of the Empire. Now, upon his return, he looked nothing of the sort. He saw only death, demons, fire, and...more death.

Images of a woman's flesh being ripped off of her own face by rock and stone haunted him. The experience revisited him in his nightmares frequently. The heart wrenching scream—of whom one could only assume was her own son—that pierced through the blaster fire and explosions dominating the battlefield scarred the insides of his ears. What horror, Kal feared, it must exact upon a son or daughter that is cursed with witnessing the woman that brought you into this galaxy, taken from it in such a way...

The thought was interrupted by his face being violently buried in the bowl beneath him. Nothing could stop the contents of his stomach from spilling out. His fingers gripped the cold polished metal, clinging on to prevent him from totally collapsing. Then, the door to the refresher hissed open and Kal snapped up—hoping to hide his moment of weakness.

"Thule, you alright over there?" one of the corporals in his squad asked. Thule turned the water on and bent over to wash his mouth and face before responding.

"All good," was the reply.

"You don't look it," the corporal fired back as he walked over to Kal and observed the remnants of vomit that were being washed down the drain.

"Dantooine?" It was a one word question that was received as if he were referring to the ejecta in the sink as Dantooine.

The private wanted to question his comrade on what he meant exactly, but before he could...the corporal made the interrogative rhetorical.

"It is all good, get it out of your system." He said, giving Thule a sympathetic slap on the back. "You're not the first to spew in this 'fresher and you won't be the last."

There was so much Kal wanted to say...thank you...what do you mean?...does it go away? So much he wanted to say, but he didn't. Instead, he just gave his corporal a nod and finished cleaning up before gathering his things and moving toward the exit.

"Let me know if you need anything Thule," his squad mate stated before entering one of the toilet stalls, "you're alright."

I'm alright. Kal repeated to himself as he opened the refresher door and moved into the squad bay, believing he'd left Dantooine behind him...flushed down the conduit where it would never be able to bother him again.
 
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