Ask Heart And Mind

Discussion in 'Expansion Region and Mid Rim' started by Miha Archan, Oct 8, 2019.

  1. Miha Archan

    Miha Archan Character

    Galactic Alliance
    Level 1
    87

    Rebel
    Messages:
    27
    OCC Account:
    belligerentProle
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    Aleen was a thing of beauty, peaceful, the kind of place where you felt like you could just take off and glide along the winds. Now she was all craters and rouble, the Empire might have been driven off her surface weeks ago, but the smoke still choked the skyline for miles around. Miha had been hired to take care of that, given he was as proficient in building as he was in destruction, and that he generally preferred the former to the latter, he considered it a welcome change of pace. When your day job becomes entirely based around variations of murdering people, it could get boring quickly, and he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy actually helping people for once. Regardless, it had been a rough day for the mercenary, he’d been put in charge of a small group of R-0 Series Labour Droids and directed to clear rubble from a city block in preparation for a more serious rebuilding effort. It sounded like an easy task, and a good excuse to catch up on some reading, though Miha failed to account for one thing: not everyone managed to evacuate the city in time.


    Miha wasn’t a stranger to death, in fact he took pride in how good he was at sending people to it. But this was different, they were civilians, they never asked for this war. After all thirty of the dead he’d found that day had been handed over to the Chaplain for a proper burial, Miha retired back to the temporary campsite the Alliance had set up for labourers. He retired back to his ship for an hour or so, taking time to wash and smoke in his garden, fixing himself a meal, and offering a short prayer and a period of meditation to the poor souls he’d found that day. The silence in the ship was dreadful, too much empty space for unpleasant thoughts and ideas to make themselves heard in. With a groan Miha stood up from his chair in the garden and set out into the camp. There was a bar a few servicemen were running, technically they should have been out there busting their backs in the city, but no one was going to complain so long as the booze was cheap.


    It was just a few dozen crates stacked up to form a bar, some cheap folding tables and chairs dotted around it, and sheets of tarpaulin to keep any rain off the patrons. When he first arrived at the camp he’d bought a bottle of rum from the lanky fellow behind the “bar,” and he’d been drinking from it for the last week, leaving it behind the bar when he needed to retire for the night. When he took his usual seat, the lanky fellow brought it out for him without a word. Might be shirking his actual job, but at least he treats his regulars well. Thought Miha, offering a nod of appreciation and a couple credits for his trouble, More importantly, he keeps to himself.

    Pouring himself a glass of the golden brown drink, Miha cracked open the old journal of Redio Rahim, reading the musty old thing as he sipped his rum with a cigarra resting in the ashtray in front of him.

    @Caught in Strangereal