That's CAPTAIN Vyen'a to you, kid.

Everything is Wrong

HOLO 2.245.23://

It’s taken me a week to process this. An entire week.

We’ve been moved off Voss. Everything is wrong.

A few days after Jerax and I got back from Corellia, back from visiting his family, the seventh was escorting Ihlrath and that bitch Alysen or whatever her name is to some fancy-ass Jedi or Voss temple. I don’t even know. They were taking that holocron that they found there for safe-keeping.

And we were ambushed on the way. Fucking Sith. And it was a total clusterfuck and Jerax… he panicked. Morgan had more in-field experience and he screamed for a retreat while still standing his ground and Jerax listened instead of stepping up and taking charge.

Morgan and Jayl were captured. Sargis and Lugah and Astor were injured, badly.

And that fucking bitch Alysen thought that her little glowbox was worth more than the lives of Morgan and Jayl. And she half got her way. They traded it for Jayl.

We didn’t get Morgan back. He’s gone. The Sith took him.

We’ll never get him back. I know what Sith do; all I have to to is ask Bald’s girl, still huddled in my cargo bay. Her eyes turned even more haunted when I told her what happened.

And she’s got a roommate now. Morgan’s girl Katalin didn’t take the news well. Obviously. She’s some little Jedi padawan but apparently she and Morgan had a little something going on the side. So now she’s in my cargo bay with Ty’nea, both with their little corners and their little bunks and crying themselves to sleep every night.

Jerax is a mess. I’ve never seen him like this. He completely blames himself for everything: the ambush, the captures, losing Morgan. I try to do what I can for him, but there’s only so much I can do. He’s not sleeping; when he does, he has nightmares.

And I feel horrible because I still have Jerax here with me. He’s not on the other side of the galaxy. He’s not been dragged off by Sith to an unknown end. But I don’t know how long that’ll last. Every day brings a fresh new hell and I’m terrified that one day soon I’ll be curled on my bed weeping along with Nea and Kat. I’ve half a mind to ask him to marry me; so he’ll know that even if that day comes, I wanted it to be forever with him. So he can have some security out here.

Maybe so I can have some, too.

And the Marran retreated to Tython. Ihlrath packed them all up off Voss to recuperate. Less than impressed with him right now; all he lost was a glowbox. He’s not answering his comm. Jerax needs strong allies right now and he took his jedi club and left.

I wish Bald was here. I wish Morgan was here.

I wish I never heard of Voss.

Promises of dancing

HOLO 24.246.824://

He did it.  My handsome soldier took me dancing at a ball. 

That was a promise long-coming.

Way back when, right after we first met, he said he’d take me to a military ball that was coming up a few weeks later.  That got cancelled.  Then all the mess on Alderaan and Voss came and we didn’t get time to even give each other a quick kiss in passing most weeks, let alone go out places together.

So last night, at the ball honoring the Marran, those promises of dancing finally came true.

And it was perfect.

Morgan was out of the med bay.  He took Jayl as a date.  That was… cute.  Unexpected as all balls, but cute.  Don’t think Jayl appreciated me waltzing her around the dance floor, but she needed to loosen up quite a bit.  Especially since she doesn’t believe me when I say dancing can be just as deadly a weapon as any one of those charges she keeps strapped to her thigh at all time.

A woman’s wiles can make or break even the strongest of men.  Hence: excellent weapon.  She’s pretty enough that if she could harness that?  No enemy would stand a chance.

There was this military tradition called grog, and… well.  It was disgusting.  It was alcoholic.  And I have a feeling it won’t be the last time I have to take a double shot of something along those lines.

One of the shiny new U-4T0 protocol droids was on display at the venue.  I want one.  

But all of that paled once Jerax and I started dancing.  He whispered in my ear little things that made me giggle like a damn kid.  Still giggling now while I write this, him asleep in the other room.

Maker, I love that man.

((that protocol droid?  totally an in-game GM, come to hang out at our RP event.  it was pretty great!  was the same one running around on tython the day before and on hutta later that evening.  yay, fun times!))

Free!

HOLO 21.252.166://

I’m free!  Sort of. 

My leg is still way too injured for its own good, but I’m back on my ship and moving around.  Which means I’m conscious more often than not, which means I can finally put my thoughts down about this last week.

In short: Fuck.

Bald’s gone; shipped off to fuck knows where to rejoin his old unit.  He’s supposed to be back in a few months, but if this damn war blows up I wouldn’t be surprised if they keep him there.  Which sucks.  Because we’re now responsible for his little imp girlfriend.

I’m not too happy about that.  Told him I’d keep an eye on her and, if it was absolutely fucking necessary, could probably smuggle her ass somewhere safe.  It better not damn well get to that point, though.

I guess I missed a hell of a goodbye party for him, too.  

I was right about one of the new recruits; he got transferred out just as fast as he was transferred in.  Still need to do some digging on that one.  They should really let me give my seal of approval on some of these fucks before they’re let in.

Finally got to see Jerax.  Finally.  Diplomatic akkshit has been keeping him on the run, and it’s taking him away again for maker knows how long.  He didn’t even know I was hurt until Bald’s party.  He helped me get resettled on my ship, though.  Picked me up and carried me through the airlock like it was a threshold on our wedding night.

…I may have overthought that one.  Eh, fuck it.

Before all that, though, when those stupid droids finally let me get some fresh air, I had a run in with one of Master Ihlrath’s new padawans.  She thinks she’s cute.  Even calls herself “Trouble”.

Bitch, please.

She might be trouble, but not in the way she’s insinuating.  I’m actually rather shocked that Ihlrath would take someone like that on.  Must be some Jedi reason, I guess.

Anyway.

I’d been cooped up in the med tents for so long that I lost my temper real fast.  Real fast.  And I know that if I was at my best, I could have taken her skanky ass in a fight, but I wouldn’t stand a chance with only one leg and a still-hurting back.  So I just left back to the tents.  Ended up chatting with Cpl Jayl for a good long time; she even got me calmed down enough to go for a (stupidly slow) walk around the camp.  She’s a good woman.

I need to get to know more of the Seventh like that.

With the mess of whatever it was that happened in Voss-Ka the other night, with some ambassador being stabbed, times are getting more and more tense.  We’re going to have to lean on each other more, to support each other more.

Maybe I’ll throw a party.