Loyalty Is Victory

[Callum Frazer]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Well, what about Frazer? He’s from a poor colony.

The words had entered his mind out of nowhere.
As he was suddenly taken back to that moment.
Like time trapped him somewhere, everywhere.
As motionless as space—if space was an ocean.

He knows how tough life can be out there.

There. In the galaxy. Beyond the window.
Transparisteel that separates them both.
Outer space, all its stars, and one man.
His face in its reflection, as he stands.

He saw his whole unit die on Anthan.

Anthan 12. An unforgettable moment.
His unit tracked down those insurgents.
Did their duty, as they were commanded.
That conflict did open up a few…emotions.

Every soldier has scars. Frazer’s a survivor.

He did more than survive, as he remembered.
He led his team into combat. They fought back.
With the blaster, with the fist, how they attacked.
Against the resistance. How the enemy had burned.

Is that the kind of person we want on this mission?

His team had burned too. He was all that remained.
A lone man, the captain of his unit, however brave.
Those men and women under him were the same.
Did he regret that mission? Did he bear its shame?

That’s the only kind of person fit for this galaxy…

That remained to be seen. Frazer bore the weight.
Both the blaster and the blade. Today or tomorrow.
He accomplished his mission and he never strayed.
If the Empire commands, he will obey, he will follow.

For the Empire. Never the first to make such a claim.
Gripping the notion in his fist, in the fingers of a glove.
Standing in his armor that's as dark as that naked space.
Loyalty is victory. And the Empire’s would rain from above.

Turning from the window, Lieutenant Callum Frazer walked forth through a corridor on the floor of the bridge of his ship, or the Combat Information Center. CIC for short. His ship, no less, that Malleus-class heavy gunship, and her name was the Silver Gauntlet.

[“Destination in range. Initiating transmission sequence.”]

The pilot called over the intercom as his captain walked. Captain of his ship, that is, if not quite a captain in rank, but that mattered little and less for this mission.

[“We are connected. Calculating transit mass and destination.”]

Navicomputer computing this and that, and much and more that was lost on the ship’s captain, but he knew Comic was on it. A mind like a comet, the helmsman did his job, no more and no less, as long as he could be put up with.

[“Relay is hot. Acquiring approach vector.”]

While Comic talked, Frazer navigated his way down one side of the command deck, passing by a line of operators on computers, along with the chief navigator, giving him a nod as the latter offered a more formal salute to his commander.

[“All stations secure for transit.”]

Frazer entered the cockpit.

[“Board is green. We’re in the pipe. Five by five!”]

The excitement in Comic’s tone was undeniable. Callum stood behind him, hands clasped behind back, gazing out the viewport, silent.

“C’mon, LT. Please don’t tease me.”

Callum Frazer didn't even grin. “Hit it.”

“INITIATING HYPERDRIVE!”

So the engines of the Silver Gauntlet cried, and the black expanse that was space, that was the ocean, became as blue as one might imagine.

“Expecting heavy resistance on this mission?” Comic asked his captain.

“Why do you ask?” Callum’s tone was ever matter-of-fact over curious.

“Oh, no reason. Just that, eh, the package we’re bringing with us, that guy…”

“Speak your mind.”

Comic stopped typing, swiveled in his seat, turned to face his captain, eyes into eyes, scratching the back of his ear.
“Eheh…just that…I have a kind of fear for his kind…”

“Wasn’t my decision. But give me your opinion.”

“Jedi. Sith.” Comic shrugged. “I’m sure Imperial Command has a good reason for bringing along an Imperial Knight.”

I'm sure. "Right. And it is up to us to comply, to follow orders, no matter our reservations."

"Lieutenant?" Called the co-pilot. "Your presence is requested in the briefing room."

"On my way." Callum stepped away, ready to face this Knight, and his truth.

 

[Callum Frazer]

Spoiler: Music OOC

When Callum walked into the briefing room, strolling at a soldierly if composed pace, the door closing behind him adjacent to the CIC deck, his expectations had proven to be incorrect.

Truthfully, he had not seen the Imperial Knight board his ship, and few of his crew had, and those who did were no less tuned to the Knight’s covert operation. Their presence was permitted but their identity was a secret alongside their reason for accompanying the Silver Gauntlet in its mission.

Its own specifics, Callum reflected, were also not so known to him. Central Command told him to go and so he went, engaged hyperspace, with his crew, if with a tagalong too. Orders were orders. And what are yours?

He wondered alongside how Comic might feel to realize his mistake. Before the captain of the Silver Gauntlet stood a person in red black armor, facing away, turned to a viewscreen on a wall depicting a desert.

The figure was tall, bulkier in the armor, if maybe more slender without it. The black cape that draped from the shoulders hid the skeleton, and if not for the helmet held at hip, well, Callum might also have mistaken this person to be a guy.

A woman. It didn’t really matter. Comic had simply been mistaken. Maybe her head had given her away, with silver hair down to the nape of her neck.

However, when she turned, with black streaks in her forward locks as though charcoal, and eyes black as midnight, it was much easier to discern a woman’s countenance.

“Lieutenant Callum Frazer,” she spoke simply. He could not immediately tell if it was a statement or a question.

“I am he,” he agreed, standing with his hands at his sides. There were only the two within this room. “And who are you?”

“An Imperial Knight.” This time her tone dripped with authority, as if her status was one that an Imperial Navy lieutenant should already recognize.

“Clearly. You’d be in stolen armor otherwise.” His reply was neither one of amusement nor of challenge.

“What do you know of this mission?” She gave no name straight away, though Callum wasn’t interested in playing any game.

“My orders are to head to Thrad, determine and eliminate a seditious element of a former Imperial dissident, a warlord, and make sure any who remain are loyalists before we leave the planet.”

A basic enough operation, one that would plausibly lead to armed resistance, thus Command called on Lieutenant Callum Frazer for this mission.

His armor was darker than his counterpart, whose crimson was reminiscent of why the Knights existed to begin with. The Empire has not forgotten.

“Why that requires the addition of a Knight is beyond me,” Callum admitted. “My ship and her complement are more than ready to deal with any warlord without the need for the Force.”

“I see,” the Knight bit her lip as if stifling a grin. “Then I hope you are equipped to deal with the Sith.”

That made Callum hesitate. “Are you saying there is a Sith presence on this planet?”

“It is suspected.”

The Lieutenant took a breath, not in apprehension, but as if his mind was a mainframe that began to calculate new strategies and tactics in the instant it took to breathe out again. Suspected. Yet for what reason would I not be informed to begin with? “What is your name, Knight? If I may.”

“Vorestra,” she replied. “Vorestra Sylverian.”

 

[Vorestra Sylverian]

Spoiler: Music OOC

All things considered, she couldn’t really complain about this assignment. Who would listen anyway? Sen? Lara? Tame? Father? Mother? Commander? Emperor? She was given a mission, it had to be accomplished, that was it.
Maybe it wasn’t much of an outlook on career living but this wasn’t career living. This was surviving. Providing. It was a good enough position for Vorestra Sylverian.

Her primary mission went beyond the very foundation of the Empire to begin with. It predated the Sith. It was older than the oldest Jedi sitting on his haunches sniffing old moldy pages. Hers was the mission of a parent. Of a mother. Provide for her children, ensure they survive, and this sentiment extended to the very House of Sylverian.

The Sith Order once gave her a means to do this. For some reason, she remembered them as she stood alone in the briefing room of this starship, gazing at a screen that displayed the image of a verdant forest.

The ship wasn’t hers but she had been informed that its captain and complement would prove to be rather useful for the mission ahead. Better yet, they couldn’t deny her presence as it is. It wasn’t just permitted. It was a requirement.

Sith… She sighed into the wind, but the air seemed so stagnant for some reason, no matter its being conditioned. It wasn’t like she was sentimental about them or anything. They were just another means to an end. Except, when she was Sith, she was a force to be reckoned with. In private, at least.

Yeah, sure, Sen had her power over fire, and she was pretty damn brilliant with it if her sister was being honest. Brutally efficient. You always were a bit of a bitch. Vor hated to admit it. For her, it was different. Maybe that’s what she was thinking. The irony between them.

Sen could still fling fire from her fingertips. The Empire permitted pyrokinesis and she was wicked with it. Lightning? Totally not the same thing. That was frowned upon. No, wasn’t it outlawed? Furthermore, though Vor didn’t really go out of her way to be a wicked bitch, lightning was yet another means to an end for her—to protect what was hers—and she would gladly remind her enemies of this.

And I shall do so as an Imp…

Before the door to the briefing room opened, his presence had been sensed. Someone’s anyway and, if it wasn’t his, she had already beckoned him and was alerted of his coming entrance. Only he wouldn’t find a forest on the viewscreen. Vor had since switched it to a desert. The former was a dreamy location. The latter was their immediate destination.

So begins conversation…

“Vorestra Sylverian.” She already knew his name of course. Let’s see. Drop the image of a mighty Knight? Keep going? He did need to at least recognize her authority.

“This warlord, Hander Kroac, is not who we suspect as Sith, let alone Force-sensitive. And you are correct. Your orders are assess and eliminate that threat. Mine, however, are to assess and eliminate any threat of a Sith presence.”

She spoke just so, offering him no less than honesty; authority but no unnecessary superiority.

“I see. And may I ask why a Sith presence is suspected? How was this intelligence validated?”

Hmm. Can he ask? Yes. I guess. “I am not at the liberty to reveal that information.” Yet? However, Captain Callum Frazer did not frown at her about it. Whatever his thoughts and inner monologue, his reputation was proven true to Vorestra Sylverian already at that very moment: he was resolute in his loyalty to his Empire and its command structure.

“That being said,” she shifted the weight of her helmet at her hip. It wasn’t heavy or anything. The burden of command, though, was another story. One that she would not let him see. “We will be combining our efforts. You help me, I help you. We both go home.”

She caught the faintest rise of an eyebrow. Hopefully cooperation sounded just as promising to him as it did to her. Better than stepping on each other’s toes, lighting any unnecessary sparks. Vor couldn’t do that anymore despite her darkness. Sadly.