Shadows of Bankor

Djanik, in light of the coming adventures the nascent rebellion was planning, decided to take a trip to the hot springs.

It was wonderfully relaxing. Wearing a fluffy robe, he sank into the water gratefully, letting the heat carry away worries.

The black veins had faded, but not vanished. He suspected the discoloration would stay forever - but at least now the pain had gone.

In some ways, he welcomed the marks - they were one more part of the story that was written on his skin - on his face.

If only he could stay here, like this, forever...

whoops I should stealth I guess: 4eA+2eD 1 failure, 2 advantage


(Advantage to have run into someone interesting that isn't a force murder machine if possible)

After a moment of peaceful soaking two storm troopers pull him from the water and then toss him on the damn wooden deck next to the hot springs. There is a third set of boots that approach and stand over him and the woman said, “You look terrible, traitor.”

The Imperial officer's uniform was crisp and sharp enough to cut, as Captain Beck glared down at him.

Djanik was certainly surprised.

Lying on the wooden boards, getting back his bearings, he heard her voice.

Oh maker.

Pulling in a deep breath, he pushed himself up on his elbows, staring up at the two soldiers, and the woman he had once loved.

"Yeah, I've been better."

Wiping water from his eyes, he added, "You look sharp as ever, Nora."

“I know,” she said in response.

“You took a poorly calculated risk to come here. It’s almost like you wanted to be caught,” she said drawing her side arm. “Maybe you think you can come back, let me assure you, we have no need of traitors to the Empire.”

"Actually, I was trying to take a bath."

Pulling himself up far enough to lean against a rock, he rested one arm on his knee.

"Besides, as far as the Empire is concerned, I died in an engine malfunction - and frankly I very nearly did. If I hadn't been Pantoran, I would've frozen to death."

A wry smile. "The very thing they ended my career for... saved my life."

“So you go AWOL for what?” she asked. “You gave up, things got too hard and you gave up.”

“Pathetic. I can’t believe I once looked up to you.”

"I cut my engines on the way home from a flight where I was ordered to kill around 200 dock workers, for the grand crime of public protest."

He sighed, remembering the carnage as one of his wing-men didn't hold fire.

"I didn't leave to make things easier for myself. Things were a lot easier when I had a paycheck, Nora. Living out here is a large part of why I look, as you said, terrible."

Resting his head against the rock, he added, "You know, there was a time I believed in the Empire. Believed that it would protect the people of the galaxy, like the Republic, only better. Less bureaucratic stalling and arguments. I got disabused of that when we started shooting civilians."

"Criminals and dissidents, not civilians," she corrected.

"Really?"

He reached for his datapad, and then realized he didn't have it, because he was wearing a large, fluffy, soaking wet bathrobe.

With a scowl, he simply replied. "I remember seeing some two hundred people standing in a street. Holding signs asking for pay when worked overtime."

Expression darkening, he added, "I also remember seeing bodies ripped into flaming coals by three of my wing who decided they weren't interested in following my orders."

His hand had tightened into a fist, without even realizing, and he slowly let out his breath, willing himself to relax. "I don't remember the part in the academy where they taught us that the military should slaughter anyone who didn't do as we told them."

"They resisted the rule of law and endangered the greater good," she replied. "I feel for their poor pay but we all must make sacrifices for the greater good."

"They chose themselves over the Empire, and you see how that ended for you."

"What greater good is there, if it grinds up the people it is meant to serve?"

He felt himself growing angry and tense, and did his best to control his voice as he stated, simply, "I took an oath to protect and serve the people of the Republic. When I was ordered to slaughter those same people for exercising their right to speak out... obeying that order would have meant betraying everything I ever believed in."

"And your loyalty to your brothers and sisters in the Empire?" she replied. 'Their lives have no meaning?"

"Their lives have meaning."

His hand closed into a fist, so tight his knuckles began to turn sky blue. "Yet I must obey my first oath. If I don't, I lose the only thing I have left."

A soft sigh, and he said, softly, "I didn't plan to fight anyone - but I've had to defend myself, and more importantly, a naive kid. She reminds me a lot of you, when you first joined the squad - full of confidence and skill, not yet worn down by a galaxy that is too big, and cares too little."

Meeting her gaze, he concluded, "I didn't want to fight against my friends, my comrades, or my nation. But I swore an oath, Nora. I won't oppress the populace, I won't gun down unarmed civilians, and I won't stand by and let that happen if I have any ability to stop it."

"Things may have changed, but I guess I never was good at keeping up with the times."

"This is why you you will fail," she said sadly. She contemplated her weapon and then holstered it, "Not like this. We'll settle this, soon I am expecting."

"I can't look at you like this," she said gesturing for the troopers to follow.

As she turned to go, he said, sadly, "I'm sorry it ended up like this, Nora."

Pulling himself to his feet, he said, softly, perhaps too quiet to hear. "I truly am."

She is gone.

Wrapping his robe around himself, he went to rinse off and gather his things.

For some reason, he didn't feel very relaxed anymore.

/scene