Elena Tarunt, Captain of the Stars

Greetings all,

In light of a great many things, I have decided to move this sideblog to it's own main blog! The main blog is the exact same url I've had, to make it easier for people.

RP, asks and the like will continue without disruption during this move, so if you want to shout at me or interact, you are more than welcome to do so on either blog!

When I'm done, I'll probably try and set up some redirect, or leave this blog up for reference.

In an effort to get back into this thing, give this post a like for a starter

All are welcome, though would prefer something that would fit somewhat into star wars.

The armorer had not thought herself set in her ways, but it was only when standing in an unfamiliar spaceport did she realize… she hadn’t actually left Nevarro since the covert settled there after the Purge. She had not traveled alone in any capacity since long before that.

You’ve gone soft and lazy, old striil, she thought, towing the repulsor sledge loaded with several crates.  Several fortunes in innocuous duraplast trappings. The armorer felt the weight, both in beskar ingots and in guilty concience –  she’d gown far too content to let younger warriors do for her while she sat warm by her forge-fire.

She drew attention, of course. Even a drab cloak could not conceal the golden helm entirely, but she was no coward, to hide what she was for the convenience of arueteii.  She had forged herself brand new bes’kade from the plates of her fallen brethren. The swords she had wielded when she was young were long gone, given to promising ge’verde whose promise itself had been cut short.  Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.  The list went on and on, names she might have reasonably expected to bury her.

After the battle of Jakku and the Galactic Concordance, the future was quite uncertain. Even though Captain Tarunt was quite glad to see the end of yet another war, but as the New Republic stood down from its war footing, their eyes turned to those who had served the Empire.

Unfortunately for the Captain, the multiple redacted entries in her service record, the transport of sensitive materials to what would become the Death Star I and the near stellar record of her Victory Class Star Destroyer throughout the Clone Wars and all the way until shortly after Alderaan . . She was not looked at it a positive light. Of course, why would she be? She knew it before she had even defected - she might've been a damn fine Officer, but she was no good as a Rebel.

The trail that proceeded were weighted against her, but she had to suppose she got off light. Grounded. Discharged and forbidden from joining any sort of 'confrontational armed group', with a black mark on her records so anyone who bothered to check would know who she was.

An Imperial.

Never mind her defection.

And so, there she was, now nothing more than a Civilian. Quick action had allowed her to requisition a Sentinel Class Shuttle - now with certain wing details painted in a light purple to seperate it from the Imperial remnants - so she wasn't completely out, and she still had her rather generous Officer's salary, saved over the decades.

A pitstop later as she refuelled and purchased consumables to keep her going, she honestly hadn't expected to be approached by anyone not looking for trouble, least of all someone hoping to hire.

She looked at the figure carefully, her first thought was to just decline her and send her on her way. Surely, this would only lead to trouble? As she thought about it though, she finally recognised the armoured figure as a Mandalorian. A people now scattered thanks to the Great Purge of Mandalore. Even though the former Captain had no part in it, she couldn't blindly ignore the fact she served the Empire who committed it.