The Empire's Elite

[Gunner Stahl]

Spoiler: Please Read before Posting

While open, given the nature of secrecy surrounding the Black Hand, this thread is only open to those with knowledge of its location and those affiliated with the organization

ABAFAR

BLACK HAND BASE
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The R-70 Dalyrake had been given a customized paint job, gunmetal and dark charcoal frame now coated over with a silhouette of brilliant ebony. When flying through the night sky, it was certainly a sight to behold. Forgoing his classic imperial starfighter for the newer vessel, he preferred the luxury and enhanced maneuverability of the Dalyrake as well as its purpose for incognito. The ship lowered when he exited galactic space, descending onto the runway near the organizations' secret base. Tires skidded on the concrete grounds as the ship slowly made its taxi inside the hangar.

He leaped out of the cockpit, dressed in his shadowguard armor, insignia hidden by what appeared as an elegant maroon sash which wrapped the contours of his right shoulder. It bore the emblem of a hand, ensnared with an array of deathly skulls. His unique blaster carbine, the Devastator, was hoisted over his back as he slowly made his way from the hangar and into the tunnels that lined through social areas as well as independent living quarters. He was unhelmeted at this time; he realized that many of his fellow assassins kept their identities hidden amongst themselves even, though he never felt the need to do so, only from those unaffiliated with the organization. He was the galaxy's only Shadowguard, though no one in the imperial army or those he had encountered during his travels knew of his secret designation.

Arguably, the only persons in the galaxy who know of him, were those he'd likely encounter this evening. Entering into the main hall, he advanced towards the dining areas and stopped while at the bar. Claiming a seat for himself, he asked the service droid to bring a glass of his favored: High shelf Vodka on the rocks. Hands curled around the lemon slice as he squeezed it atop the liquor before turning to look at the view from the wide spread window panes. Eyes soaked on the dense moonlight of Abafar, watching as it glistened and gave guidance to the night.

@Exhilian

 

[Draco Virtus]

The Reaper would be say in the corner of he bar. He bore normal black robes and left his red and black signature black hand armour in his dorm. His half yellow-half grey eyes would be focusing on the patrons coming in and out of the bar. Droids, guards and service members who maintain the base and upkeep on their break. Those who served all under the eternal as even the deadliest of Folks needed a stiff drink once in awhile. The Reaper would stiffen up a bit as he clasped his drink. A strong coruscant whiskey on the rocks with ice as his lower part of his mask was removed to show only his mouth and jawline. The other piece of his mask unclipped while down by his side where his custom silver hilt lightsaber lay hidden beneath his robes. Taking a mouthful of his drink and letting it swish around to cover his mouth in the after taste of the fine whiskey he would set it down on the table. A service droid buzzed over and stood by his table “May I get you anything else sir?” She hummed. His eyes scanning up under he mask as he spoke with a cold monotone answer. “Pack of Correilian Cigarras, and another whiskey”. The droid would begin to buzz off and fetch his request as the bar was half busy and regularly was as a small candle lay lit on the table in the centre of it. Moments later the droid buzzed back and gave him his order as he nodded and it rolled off to help another customer. Letting the cigarra slide out of the pack and place it between his lips, he would ignite it and take a long drag as he let the smoke fill his lungs and slowly exhale through his nose under his mask.


The fire burning on the centre of the table would slowly flicker and dance as he stared at it and heard the screams in his head. The war, soldiers on both sides fighting hand to hand and the blood was an awful stench. Years ago and constant fighting on both sides of Sith and Jedi alike, those who fought and suffered tragedies. Letting another drag of his smoke filling his lungs as he could hear the boom of cannons and feel the rain wash down of blood on his uniform back then. Those being hit by the lasers and grenades, imploding to pieces and making it hard to distinct which is debris and which is limb. Shaking his head as he suppressed his thoughts of the past and slowly took another mouthful of his whiskey and swish it down. Some things never changed and The Reaper could feel the battle rage on inside him but even if the best would have a hard time to tell that battle. Only those who fought the good fight would know that behind it all, the closed doors and strong minds that what they bare witnessed in the field was nothing short of genocide. The only thing that kept Reaper alive and going was the fact he was one of the best to lock this battle away when he needed and in the moment of duty; he could act without hesitation.

@Faded Truth

 

[Gunner Stahl]

It was an interesting job they had, living a life which was dictated by the foul stench of murder, betrayal, and merciless victory by any means necessary. The Empress did not tolerate failure and for any of those who dared succumb to the pressures in the field, consequences would have been severe. Gunner was not as tainted as the Reaper; quite simply, he was not sith and while the Imperials had their own share to post traumatic events, he did not share in the bask of regret that may have plagued his counterpart from time to time.

Life had been difficult when he was younger, though now, it had improved to a magnitude higher than he could have ever imagined. Ever since the day when he was Andraste speak in Serenno, he knew that he had to follow her vision for a future in which the Empire built peace and prosperity through the galaxy. He continued to stare at the moonlight as it glistened high above them, their view from inside the base was well illuminated, perhaps the Eternal had done a nice job at selected this location if not only for its vantage point. Vodka in hand, Gunner was one of the few who cared to not wear a mask within the confines of the base or around his associates. They all knew who he was; his identity was meant as a secret to those he met in the field and the other operatives who were not a member of this prestigious order. Fingers twinkled on the cigarette, dropping buds of ash onto the side as he twirled the glass.

Eyes shifted to the side as he glanced upon The Reaper. Motioning to the service droid, he placed a drink for the two of them. Though the duo had returned from a deep sea diving trip, they weren't the closest of allies just yet. Relationships in the black hand were based on formalities; after all, these were Andraste's deadliest killers, niceness was only a tool to be used when necessary and discarded when not. The droid would deliver a shot of whiskey over to Draco and if he looked he would see Gunner in the distance giving him a cheers before they went back to their silent drinking.

@Exhilian