Night Hawks Run-on

(OOC)

This is an on-going run-on for us Night Hawks, it doesn't follow any major plot, it's basically evey-day goings on in the HQ, like training, and character development among other things. We can also write about missions we go on as a BT and it can be used also as a build-up to main events, like House and Clan run-ons, GJWs and all that stuff. This is just a post to get this out there, and let you guys know that it is still happening.

Expect this to get underway very soon.

Night Hawks HQ

The newly-christened headquarters of the Night Hawks stood as a bastion of skill and determination, despite the dark of night. The Battleteam had only recently moved in, but already the place seemed like a home. For many of the Jedi inside, the road to mastery of the Dark Side was nowhere near complete, and their duties in service to the House and Clan would mean that they were going to see a lot more action.

This felt especially true due to the relative peace that reigned, but all knew it was only for now. It was their duty as the elite, the very best of House Marka Ragnos, to become all that they could be so that they can serve to the best of their abilities in these turbulent times. Hence the reason for the unveiling of a new Headquarters for the group. It served the purpose of providing valuable services to the Night Hawks, such as training facilities, a state-of-the-art communications and briefing room, and spartan but comfortable quarters. It also provided the team an opportunity to foster friendships within themselves, to allow the Night Hawks valuable rest and recreation time in order to keep their spirits as sharp and bright as their abilities. As the elite, they had no other choice.

Personal Quarters, Night Hawks HQ

The mangled, burned form that is Nero stirred in his bunk. He tried not to move too much as it caused him too much pain, but he felt restless. Looking at the chronometer on the wall, he noticed that he had slept for 3 hours. About average for him. Lifting himself out of bed, he looked at his burned arms and grimaced.

Reaching over, he took one of several rolls of bandages and began to wrap himself up, making sure that the bandages wouldn't come loose. The entire process took about 2 hours, but when he at last felt that the job was done, he put on a simple black tunic, sashed it at the waist, and strode out the door of his quarters and out into the Mess Hall. He passed the communications center, where a droid rolled up to him, a communique in its mandible.

Nero opened the letter as he continued to the Mess Hall. "Trainer? And I'm an official representative of the Night Hawks?" He thought, "When did this happen?"

Nero's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of conversation and the clattering of utensils and plates from the Mess Hall, it seemed that he wasn't the only one up at this early hour.

Personal Quarters, Night Hawks HQ

Kalei tossed and turned in her bed. Nightmares still plagued her sleep as she tried to forget what had been done recently. She had returned from a mission that Ashura had sent her on in not the greatest of shape. She had been both physically and emotionally exhausted and had been treated for only one of the two. Snapping herself up straight in bed, she looked over at the time and sighed. A cold sweat dripped down her face as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. I need to calm myself down, I should probably get out of this room she thought to herself as she pulled a deep red cloak on and left her quarters.

Corridor outside Mess Hall, Night Hawk HQ

The cooridors were quiet this early, it was almost eerie. She had stayed in her room a lot lately, mulling over her own thoughts over what had happened on her mission. There were things she did not even want to think about. Though, when she had returned back to her Battle Team headquarters, she had found a message saying she was now a trainer. Though it had lifted her spirits, it had not given her enough, yet, to focus her mind on.

Spotting someone familiar down the cooridor headed towards the Mess Hall, someone she had not seen in quite some time, she picked up her pace to catch up with him. It was Nero, someone who had no been around in a while. She noticed something in his hands and raised an eyebrow slightly, still not making her prescence known. It looked exactly like the note she had gotten about her trainer placement. It did not exactly surprise her that they were finally getting the battle team organized with leaders and trainers, Zaxen and Zaroth were probably having more sleepless nights than she was with all of the work they were putting into things.

And to top it all off, the War was coming, everyone could feel it, even the younger ones. For now, instead of startling Nero, she walked slowly by him, just nodding and smiling as she passed by. She had to much on her mind for small talk at the moment.

Mess Hall, Night Hawk HQ

Slipping into the Mess Hall, Kalei looked around and sighed as she slipped into a seat trying to figure out what she wanted to eat. On top of not sleeping well, she hadn't been eating much at all, something she was told not to do. If anyone were to come up to her, they would think that she was staring off into space when she was actually deep in thought.

Night Hawks HQ

Zaroth had been wandering the halls and corridors of the new Night Hawks HQ most of the night, his mind wandering back to the battle he had barely escaped alive. He had spent the return journey from Tatooine in a bacta tank which healed him rather well, but the confrontation with Aries had left scars, both physical and mental. Though Aries had left his mark, Zaroth had prevailed, and had come away with two trophies of his triumph, trophies which he would use to construct his lightsaber when the time came. Muz had given Zaroth a book and a few scrolls after Aries had died, which he had stored in his chambers in the Battleteam Headquarters, but had not had time to peruse the information it offered.

Mess Hall, Night Hawk HQ

His wanderings led him to the Mess Hall, the pneumatic doors hissed open and Zaroth took a seat opposite Kalei Basai, one of the new Trainers within the Team. Her sparkling green eyes startled him as she looked up at him, and Zaroth found himself speechless for a second. She smiled at this, and Zaroth seemed to finally come to his senses.

“Hello, Kalei,” he said in his strange accent; Kalei couldn't quite place how it was strange but it was strange nonetheless. “You look radiant. How was the test?”

She quickly realized what he was referring to, but was surprised he had even known about her mission. She let out a long sigh.

“Difficult. Jagen wasn't happy about my new allegiances. But I'm still not sure what happened to him over those years...”

“People change. It's a sad fact of life, but it's just another thing we have to deal with.” Zaroth's eyes seemed to grow darker as he said this; Kalei wondered whether this statement had some sort of connection to an event in Zaroth's life, she guessed he would only reveal anything more to someone close to him.

“Has Muz contacted you about your Trials yet?” she asked him.

“Not yet, but he left me a book to read. Would you like to have a look?”

“Perhaps later.... but we could get to know each other a little more in the meantime?”

“I guess that sounds good.” Zaroth said as he got comfortable.

Mess Hall, Night Hawks HQ

Glancing up at Zaroth after taking a sip of her drink, which was rather strong, Kalei let out a sigh, still trying to figure out why he had looked at her that way. "This place is awfully quiet lately. I think a lot of people have been getting ready for the upcoming war."

"Probably so," he spoke up, "I think everyone is doing their own thing, I haven't seen anyone out and about like normal."

Kalei nodded, "Indeed, it is weird though, sometimes the quiet makes me nervous. It keeps me on my guard though." She took another sip of her drink and glanced around. "So, since Muz hasn't contacted you about your trials, what have you been doing? I mean, it has to be a bit boring not having specific things to do."

Her mind was wondering a bit as she watched him. It was still odd to her the way he had looked at her when he came over. She wanted to shrug it off but didn't seem to be able to. Shaking her head, she sat back a bit. Maybe she would be able to offer some help on getting him to Dark Jedi Knight faster, even without word from Muz on his trials."

Personal Quarters, Night Hawks HQ

Mack awoke groggily to the sound of the shrill alarm on his datapad. He had set it for a decent hour, but now regretted it. All he wanted was to sleep, to rest away the excitement of the past couple of days. But he knew that he didn't have time for it. The feeling of the clan and the battleteam, his new home, was one of foreboding. War seemed to loom on the horizon, though for what he hadn't asked anybody yet.

With a bit of a moan, he unwilllingly pushed away the covers and sat up. He wiped his tired eyes and reached for his datapad. After shutting off the alarm, he noticed a message and brought it up, wondering who had contacted him. The only people who could send messages via his datapad were his superiors, so he knew it was of importance.

He was wrong, however. It wasn't of importance, just a simple list of things to which he did not own. It was the third time that it had been sent to him. Scowling to himself, he wrote in a reminder to scrap his current message system and download a new one. It seemed that he always was having to upload newer, better programs on it, yet the junk that was sent never stopped. Shaking his head, he got up and went to the fresher, eager to wake himself up.

Mess Hall, Night Hawks HQ

Fifteen minutes and a hot shower later, Mack strolled into the mess hall, wearing his civilian clothes. Truth be told, he liked the feel of his new robes, and wore them most of the time, but today he felt like being sporadic. The clothes flattered his already good looks, a simple cape drapped over his shoulders in the latest style which flowed behind him as he walked. He walked over to a table and took out a pipe and tobacco, the sweet smelling aroma filling his area. He wasn't sure whether or not they could smoke in the mess hall, but then again, he really didn't care.

He lit the tobacco and the leaf burned gently in the bowl. He loved smoking, though he was sure that he looked absolutely stupid doing it. Settling into his chair, he looked around at his fellow teammates. Zaroth sat talking to some woman at the table next to him. Zaroth had been the one to conduct his interview for the Night Hawks, an interview that had him worried for nothing. He gave a slight nod to him and his companion.

Another man sat two tables down from him, bandages wrapping most of his body. Mack didn't have to be strong in the Force to feel the pain roll off of this man, grimacing while he ate. He looked up at Mack ever so slightly, a look on his face as if letting him know that he knew that Mack was staring. Mack merely bowed his head, a bit sorrow felt for him. He turned his attention to the rest of the room, looking for someone to flag down to take his order...

Personal Quarters, Night Hawks HQ

Mitsuhide sat, as he always did, at his desk studying several pages of a leather bound tome. The chronometer told him that he had been at it for almost three days. This was the only time that his ‘guest’ would leave him be, when he was completely and totally preoccupied.

Digging through his pack absently, he pulled a protein ration from his pack and began to munch on it. Putting the tome aside after marking the page, he stood slowly and entered the corridor outside his quarters.

Zalera…you cannot find power in books. Faram told him in an almost friendly tone.

“I know, Faram. But, you have your way and I have mine. I’ll find power in the past…” he responded softly.

We used to be similar, Zalera. When did you change?

Mess Hall

Ignoring his guest, Mitsuhide walked into the Mess Hall. Sitting at another table, Mitsuhide pulled another large tome from his robes. Opening the tome, he continued to munch of his protein ration. Feeling someone watching him, he looked up to see an Acolyte staring at him.

The cold green eyes of Mitsuhide seemed to bore into the boy’s soul, causing him to shudder and look away. War was coming and the place seemed almost silent with people conversing in hushed tones over their food.

Before he returned to his tome, he found his former apprentice sitting at the table near Zaroth. With a small nod, he acknowledged her presence then returned to his silent reading with his only company being Faram and his tome.

Somewhere in Seng Karash

Wind bit through alleys and cold rain turned the metropolitan area of Dystopia into mist filled dreamscape splattered about water colored landscape. Zaxen's breath fogged in front of him as he made his way through the mindless crowds of shoppers, business people, criminals, street urchins, and prostitutes. He was one of them and yet he was not. He was alone in the middle of the mob that made up the pulse of the most interesting city of Orian space.

Large spires and business towers of shapes and sizes challenged they gray sky which broke with the occasional bluish purple. The inner city smelt of toxicity, filth, lavishness, sophistication, and intermingling body order from the plethora of species that had gathered to call this place home. Among the buzzing of speeders, crowds, cantinas, and pleasurable company scurried the prey of Zaxen. He had hunted his target for a week. An agent he knew to be a usurper of his Overlord.

All he had was the general address of a message sent from a now dead nurse. He had tracked it to an old run down warehouse owned by a company known as Regalcorp. A local corporation housed locally in Dystopia but owned by other corporations which formed into a giant net of trails and dummy corporations which ultimately folded in on itself creating a web of deception. At least he knew he was on the right track.

He had watched several higher level officials of Regalcorp for days, trailing them and setting up surveillance on their homes and other associations. So far nothing, but there was a whispering in the Force that was constant and he knew that the key to this puzzle was nearby.

Zaxen currently was tracking the Vice President of Advertising. He trailed the young businessman to his home and he crossed the street to the large building standing adjacent. As he stepped out on to the roof he pulled out his binoculars and scanned for his target's window. Once he had acquired what he was searching for Zaxen set himself up as comfortably as possible for what was sure to be another long and boring stake out.

He noted various instances during the stake out such as what foods the man ate, news channels he watched, the comms he made and what sort of entertainment channels he pulled up on the cortex. Zaxen was about to pack up as his mark was readying himself for bed when suddenly the man recieved a comm. He ran from his refresher into the living so fast that Zaxen had trouble keeping with him with his binoculars. The holographic image burst into blue light casting the apartment in a ghostly hue. As Zaxen focused in closure his mind raced as a familiar face was presented in the holoprojector.

It took a moment to recall the name which fit the face but it came out in a whispering hiss between Zaxen's teeth. "Agrist."