Child of the light part 3
The lead shuttle gliding downwards now and becoming visible to anyone casually looking up, the distinct sign of the imperial shuttle highlighted against the blueness of the morning sky.
Several minutes later the shuttle touched down with a soft landing, sinking several inches into the soft earthen ground, a release of spray from the front of the transport as the ramp began to slowly lower until it touched the earth.
The ramp locked into place and a squad of twelve Storm troopers came quickly marching down the ramp two by two before spreading out on either side of the ramp six on either side to form what could have been perceived as some form of an honour guard.
A moment later another single Storm trooper began to walk down the ramp, his movement slower than the quickened march of his fellow Storm troopers.
He was recognisable as a Captain by the insignia he wore on his shoulder. his hand coming up to return the salute of the nearest trooper before he began to issue orders to the gathered storm troopers to secure the southern perimeter of the town.
The Lieutenant of the squad quickly returned the salute of his captain and suddenly stiffened slightly as he heard the footsteps of Commander Jaramon coming down the shuttle's ramp.
The commander had only been recently assigned to the Imperial Star Destroyer Storm Hawk and had been placed in charge of hunting rebel groups that had splintered and spread out across the galaxy following the destruction of the Death Star in the Yavin system.
He had been drawn from this task, a secret communication from the Imperial captain of Coruscant and their orders had been changed and without any further explanation, they had been redirected to this desolate planet in the middle of the outer rim territories.
Commander Jaramon towered over the captain of the storm troopers by a good four inches, his powerful six-foot-five frame was hidden underneath his Imperial uniform but he moved with the grace and frightening demeanour of a true predator.
"Captain Tarqueleth, deploy your squad on three sides of this town and prevent anyone from anyone from leaving" he spoke the words with a cold educated tone to them, well-spoken but dispassionate.
This was enough to prompt Captain Tarqueleth into action as he acknowledged the Commander with a simple "Yes, Sir" before he keyed his helmet's commlink and ordered his men to move out.
Captain Tarqueleth did not startle easily, but this Jaramon made him feel uneasy, it was merely a defensive mechanism he had learned in his years of service within the Imperial army and his servitude as an Imperial stormtrooper.
He knew how senior officers used his men as scapegoats when things went wrong, the rank and file were the easiest to blame for the failings of leadership, and his loyalty was to his men before that of the Empire.
He moved to stand alongside Commander Jaramon and spoke as the taller man did not even turn to look towards him even as he spoke.
"Sir, with all due respect, it would make my men's job much easier if I knew what we were supposed to be looking for?"
Commander Jaramon's head snapped around to look down at Captain Tarqueleth, his face turned to a mask of anger as he spoke, the words spat forth venomously as he showed his disdain to the Stormtrooper captain.
"Captain, when I know what we seek, I will tell you, until then carry on with your job, if not I am sure I can find someone who can do it for you"
The words were delivered in the form of an angry threat and this was enough to silence Captain Tarqueleth even as the Storm Trooper's mind began to vocalise curses towards his commander officer.
Christie entered through the small swinging doors that made up the entrance of the local cantina, it was inside a ramshackle-looking building that could at one time have been a shipping container or perhaps several that had been formed together to create what was now the watering hole for the locals.
beyond what he had seen from the outside, the inside of the building was small and unremarkable, no different from any other such drinking hole that he would have frequented during the day of the republic.
His eyes scanned the room for any obvious dangers, but nothing made him feel uneasy beyond the general patrons that attended the bar, but he thought no trouble could be forthcoming unless he found a way to invite it.
But even that did not seem like something he could not handle, the majority of the room made up of the local dregs and wasters that seemed to spend their days drowning any dreams they may have once had, another hive of scum and villainy he thought to himself.
He made his way across the room and stopped at the bar, a simple gesture to the middle-aged-looking bartender, his features weathered and making it seem like he had never left this planet.
The Bar looked to him and the gesture was to make the man turn to pick up a tankard and begin to fill it with some form of local ale, the tankard filled quickly before being placed on the bar before Christie.
The bartender looked beyond Christie for a moment as he looked nervously around the bar before he turned back to the man before him, a quick exchange of looks and Christie placed some credits in the man's hand.
Christie took the tankard from the bar and turned to leave his back pressed against it, his head turning slowly to gaze around the bar, the tankard held firmly in his left hand comfortably.
His attention was drawn to a group of rough-looking locals that could be best described as thugs, they were sitting around a table with cards in their hands, a game of Sabacc being played,
One of the men at the table noticed Christie's attention and looked up at him and gave a mean glare in return and his hand shifted to touch a blaster pistol that was slung in a holster at his right hip.
Christie quickly averted his gaze to avoid any unnecessary complications at this time, his mind still trying to make sense of what was going on and hoping that something would soon break and he would be wiser about his current situation.
This was enough to make the thug look away and give a laugh to himself, a sense of satisfaction that he had made this newcomer back down and he could happily return to his game of Sabacc.
The danger averted for the present, Christie lifted the tankard to his lips and sipped at the ale, it was not an unpleasant taste, more a combination of bland followed by a sweet taste as it washes over his taste buds and down his throat, the drink being brought back down as he moved towards an empty corner table to ponder the questions he had not yet found the answers for.
Captain Tarqueleth's men formed into three groups, two of the groups to establish control over each end of the town, the third squad sweeping towards the town's centre and exerting control there, the locals not wanting to put up any more resistance than a few harsh words delivered before they complied with the orders given.
His second in command relaying the information to him that all the units were in place and both ends of the town had been locked down, Tarqueleth gave a nod of acknowledgement before he turned and walked back to the ramp of the shuttle where Commander Jaramon stood.
"Sir, the troops have been deployed and we have control of this settlement" he offered and saluted the Commander
"What are your orders now?" he continued letting his hand drop back down from the salute, a salute that the commander did not feel he needed to return. Captain Tarqueleth biting down on his lip, an action unseen under the cover of his white helmet.
There was silence between the two men for several seconds before commander Jaramon turned to look towards him, the silence continuing for several moments before the commander's gaze looked past Tarquleth without a word as he stared into space seemingly lost in thought.
Christie sat back in the booth and drained the last of his ale, he swallowed hard at the bitter taste that had seemed to save itself for the bottom of the tankard, his face screwing up in a mask of disapproval for a moment before putting the empty container back down on the table.
The thought of having to drink another of those tankards of ale was not something that filled him with anything other than a sinking feeling, but he knew he could not just sit here and not try to blend in, and the best way to do that was with a drink in his hand, this time he would try to be a little less adventurous in how quickly he drank this one.
Several minutes later the shuttle touched down with a soft landing, sinking several inches into the soft earthen ground, a release of spray from the front of the transport as the ramp began to slowly lower until it touched the earth.
The ramp locked into place and a squad of twelve Storm troopers came quickly marching down the ramp two by two before spreading out on either side of the ramp six on either side to form what could have been perceived as some form of an honour guard.
A moment later another single Storm trooper began to walk down the ramp, his movement slower than the quickened march of his fellow Storm troopers.
He was recognisable as a Captain by the insignia he wore on his shoulder. his hand coming up to return the salute of the nearest trooper before he began to issue orders to the gathered storm troopers to secure the southern perimeter of the town.
The Lieutenant of the squad quickly returned the salute of his captain and suddenly stiffened slightly as he heard the footsteps of Commander Jaramon coming down the shuttle's ramp.
The commander had only been recently assigned to the Imperial Star Destroyer Storm Hawk and had been placed in charge of hunting rebel groups that had splintered and spread out across the galaxy following the destruction of the Death Star in the Yavin system.
He had been drawn from this task, a secret communication from the Imperial captain of Coruscant and their orders had been changed and without any further explanation, they had been redirected to this desolate planet in the middle of the outer rim territories.
Commander Jaramon towered over the captain of the storm troopers by a good four inches, his powerful six-foot-five frame was hidden underneath his Imperial uniform but he moved with the grace and frightening demeanour of a true predator.
"Captain Tarqueleth, deploy your squad on three sides of this town and prevent anyone from anyone from leaving" he spoke the words with a cold educated tone to them, well-spoken but dispassionate.
This was enough to prompt Captain Tarqueleth into action as he acknowledged the Commander with a simple "Yes, Sir" before he keyed his helmet's commlink and ordered his men to move out.
Captain Tarqueleth did not startle easily, but this Jaramon made him feel uneasy, it was merely a defensive mechanism he had learned in his years of service within the Imperial army and his servitude as an Imperial stormtrooper.
He knew how senior officers used his men as scapegoats when things went wrong, the rank and file were the easiest to blame for the failings of leadership, and his loyalty was to his men before that of the Empire.
He moved to stand alongside Commander Jaramon and spoke as the taller man did not even turn to look towards him even as he spoke.
"Sir, with all due respect, it would make my men's job much easier if I knew what we were supposed to be looking for?"
Commander Jaramon's head snapped around to look down at Captain Tarqueleth, his face turned to a mask of anger as he spoke, the words spat forth venomously as he showed his disdain to the Stormtrooper captain.
"Captain, when I know what we seek, I will tell you, until then carry on with your job, if not I am sure I can find someone who can do it for you"
The words were delivered in the form of an angry threat and this was enough to silence Captain Tarqueleth even as the Storm Trooper's mind began to vocalise curses towards his commander officer.
Christie entered through the small swinging doors that made up the entrance of the local cantina, it was inside a ramshackle-looking building that could at one time have been a shipping container or perhaps several that had been formed together to create what was now the watering hole for the locals.
beyond what he had seen from the outside, the inside of the building was small and unremarkable, no different from any other such drinking hole that he would have frequented during the day of the republic.
His eyes scanned the room for any obvious dangers, but nothing made him feel uneasy beyond the general patrons that attended the bar, but he thought no trouble could be forthcoming unless he found a way to invite it.
But even that did not seem like something he could not handle, the majority of the room made up of the local dregs and wasters that seemed to spend their days drowning any dreams they may have once had, another hive of scum and villainy he thought to himself.
He made his way across the room and stopped at the bar, a simple gesture to the middle-aged-looking bartender, his features weathered and making it seem like he had never left this planet.
The Bar looked to him and the gesture was to make the man turn to pick up a tankard and begin to fill it with some form of local ale, the tankard filled quickly before being placed on the bar before Christie.
The bartender looked beyond Christie for a moment as he looked nervously around the bar before he turned back to the man before him, a quick exchange of looks and Christie placed some credits in the man's hand.
Christie took the tankard from the bar and turned to leave his back pressed against it, his head turning slowly to gaze around the bar, the tankard held firmly in his left hand comfortably.
His attention was drawn to a group of rough-looking locals that could be best described as thugs, they were sitting around a table with cards in their hands, a game of Sabacc being played,
One of the men at the table noticed Christie's attention and looked up at him and gave a mean glare in return and his hand shifted to touch a blaster pistol that was slung in a holster at his right hip.
Christie quickly averted his gaze to avoid any unnecessary complications at this time, his mind still trying to make sense of what was going on and hoping that something would soon break and he would be wiser about his current situation.
This was enough to make the thug look away and give a laugh to himself, a sense of satisfaction that he had made this newcomer back down and he could happily return to his game of Sabacc.
The danger averted for the present, Christie lifted the tankard to his lips and sipped at the ale, it was not an unpleasant taste, more a combination of bland followed by a sweet taste as it washes over his taste buds and down his throat, the drink being brought back down as he moved towards an empty corner table to ponder the questions he had not yet found the answers for.
Captain Tarqueleth's men formed into three groups, two of the groups to establish control over each end of the town, the third squad sweeping towards the town's centre and exerting control there, the locals not wanting to put up any more resistance than a few harsh words delivered before they complied with the orders given.
His second in command relaying the information to him that all the units were in place and both ends of the town had been locked down, Tarqueleth gave a nod of acknowledgement before he turned and walked back to the ramp of the shuttle where Commander Jaramon stood.
"Sir, the troops have been deployed and we have control of this settlement" he offered and saluted the Commander
"What are your orders now?" he continued letting his hand drop back down from the salute, a salute that the commander did not feel he needed to return. Captain Tarqueleth biting down on his lip, an action unseen under the cover of his white helmet.
There was silence between the two men for several seconds before commander Jaramon turned to look towards him, the silence continuing for several moments before the commander's gaze looked past Tarquleth without a word as he stared into space seemingly lost in thought.
Christie sat back in the booth and drained the last of his ale, he swallowed hard at the bitter taste that had seemed to save itself for the bottom of the tankard, his face screwing up in a mask of disapproval for a moment before putting the empty container back down on the table.
The thought of having to drink another of those tankards of ale was not something that filled him with anything other than a sinking feeling, but he knew he could not just sit here and not try to blend in, and the best way to do that was with a drink in his hand, this time he would try to be a little less adventurous in how quickly he drank this one.
