Log:Of War and Consequences

Of War and Consequences

OOC Date: October 22, 2016
Location: Nar Shaddaa, Pakko's Place, The Lost Circus
Participants: NPC

Thane Oris sat alone at the bar in Pakko's Place, the lonely dive bar in the Corellian District. "Stout enough to fell a rancor!" Pakko had said with a coarse laugh as he slid the cheapest bottle of Corellian Whiskey that money could buy and an empty glass. "Better be," had been Thane's imagined reply as he unscrewed the cap, the cheap metal cold against his shaking palm and filled his glass. Now over three quarters of the way through that damned bottle, things were starting to get more than a touch hazy at the edges of Thane's vision.

He could still see the flashes of red light every time he blinked even this many days after the attack on Lord Eebua's Starport, and it made him wonder if the flashes of laser cannons from starfighters could burn your eyes. That was nothing compared to what he saw when he laid down to sleep, however. He had been there with his family to see the execution of the corporate heads of Parmac's. Having been fired in a bought of inner office politics, it had been easy to believe the rumors that Lord Eebua had found evidence supporting the manipulative and illegal actions of the trading company after his family had been slowly declining into poverty since his termination. He could still remember the cheers, the shouts of outrage as the hooded criminals had been marched single file out and atop that stage before being fitted with the nooses. An undeniable sense of justice had washed over him for one fleeting moment... until the live broadcast of the Hutt Lord had been interrupted and then the scream of an X-wing engine had cut through the air.

The crowd had been swept up in the confusion, the heat from the starfighter fire, the falling rubble from buildings and statues being struck, desperately trying to find a means of escape from what had turned into a sudden and terrible death trap to the onlookers. He had been holding his wife's hand and she the hands of their two young sons, clinging to one another so as not to be swept apart in the flood terror. They were running and being shoved so violently, and then came unforgettable sound of the engines and scrape of metal as the ship crashed into the deck and slid. He could not rid himself of the screams of those pedestrians as the ship caught up to them, and then the snatching pull of his wife's hand that he could not combat no matter how hard he squeezed. He was thrown from his feet and crashed hard against the flight deck, his head slamming into the ground and knocking him into blackness.

The next thing Thane remembered was being shaken awake by a kneeling soldier in white armor that seemed far too clean, too stark of a contrast to the thick smoke and flames that he could see rising at the edges of his vision. "You're okay. You are going to be okay," he recalled a slightly unnatural voice saying, the helmet's vocorder turning the sound into something unnatural for a flesh and blood soul. His head felt like it would explode, the pounding pain causing each beat of his heart to sound like a roaring in his ears. Sitting up was agonizing, but was nothing compared to the sight that met his eyes as he glance before him and saw his wife and children, eyes open and staring blankly at the sky above, their bodies crushed.

The weight on his heart was simply too heavy for Thane to bear, unable to escape the agony that waited for him, eager to overwhelm the man at every turn. And so it was that he found himself in Pakko's, trying desperately to drown away the feelings. Finishing off the bottle, Thane glanced around with bloodshot eyes and the sounds of laughter were like a knife in his soul. How could anyone find joy in this terrible world? Standing on wobbly legs, the man made his way from the dive and followed the scent of roasting meats calling out to his grumbling stomach. The brightly colored fabrics of tents vaguely registered on the edges of his vision as he walked through the masses of people, shoulders brushing against other bodies with each staggering step. Cold metal felt far away as the man slid the blaster from inside his jacket, the only weapon that the man had ever owned feeling foreign in his hand. Eyes drifting closed as the alcohol threatened to take him into unconsciousness, Thane aimed blindly and began pulling the trigger again.. and again... and again. The screams and sounds of fleeing feet pounding the ground carried him back to that night not so long ago, and still he pulled the trigger, as if he could fight the demons that haunted him away. The screams only grew louder, leaving Thane with only one choice. He kept his eyes closed, looking back into that open eyed gaze of his wife as he placed the blaster to his temple and pulled the trigger one last time.