I hardly knew ya.

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Seamus
Staff Corporal
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I hardly knew ya.

Post by Seamus » 2012-06-10 05:45

(Takes place after C2, Right after Seamus had been released from the Medbay.)

Seamus frowned as he sat in the hover chair. He kept his bloodshot eyes fixated directly ahead of him, doing his best to ignore the stares and glances of passing crewmen and marines walking in the pristine grey and black hallways of the Nemesis. His hands trembled slightly as they rested on the large black kitbag containing his belongings. The 213th was effectively destroyed on Malastare. Instead of bringing in a slew of replacements, it's 90 odd survivors were instead transferred to different units across the Federation. Today was the day Seamus got to meet his new unit, and it was a rough one at that.

Seamus wanted just wanted to break down, everything had happened so quickly. He'd just gotten back to the Fleet and was already expected to move. He wondered how they expected him to simply enter that bay, haunted by the ghosts of his friends and simply pack his stuff and leave. What was worse is he wasn't even allowed to see his friend Cooly, nor would they keep him in the loop on his condition. Seamus wouldn't know what he'd do if the only remaining member of his squad died, It was worse enough that they'd probably never see each other again.

Then there was Slim, he remembered waking while immersed inside a bacta tank when Captain Seek, another surviving 213th CO informed him that he was currently being held in a POW Camp somewhere in Republic Space. Which would of never happened if Seamus hadn't ran when the T-4B's ambushed them. Seamus spent most of waking hours in the bacta tank constantly re-analyzing and re-playing his actions from that whole experience.

When the Defense along the bank Collapsed, Seamus found himself running for his life along with 32 other men from different units, some Stormtroopers, Others Army Regulars, a sprinkle of Naval crewmen. A group of 4 T-4B tanks and an Entire Company of Republican Infantry were on their heels on the street opposite them. They were crossing one of Perx's wider streets when 2 of the 4 Tanks broke off from the main group and plowed down a house a house a few yards down the block on the same side as the retreating Imperials and opened fire.

It'd all happened so fast, he remembered crossing through a short alley right behind Panzer, who had been carrying a wounded soldier on his back. After one of the T-4B's Opened up on them, they were both vaporized in an instant, both of them completely disappeared. Seamus didn't even have time to fight back before he felt Cooly tugging on his shoulder to run.

He felt like a coward, maybe if he stayed and fought he'd Slim would of never gotten captured. The shrinks keep on telling him that he would of died if he stayed. He also should of known that those tanks would cut across the block. On a tactical standpoint, it was all clear enough to the point only an idiot wouldn't get it. How could he have been so blind? So stupid? Seamus shook his head after swallowing another knot that formed up in his throat.

Then there was Sargent Dawson. The Sarge had been the Squadron's rock, although Panzer was strongest, Dawson was the toughest guy Seamus ever knew. Hell, Dawson along with a full few other men survived The Massacre at Jacknaw's Traverse on Sarapin. After hearing the stories and rumors about that, He couldn't help but wonder how a man endures a hell such as the Traverse only to get hit by a sniper while walking up a staircase. Never mind his brains sprayed on Seamus's face, who was following closely directly behind him. If the New Republic could take down the Sargent, Seamus was fucked.

The chair stopped outside of a bay, in an unfamiliar area of the ship. "Well." The Twi'lek orderly behind Seamus stated. Her morbid obesity, rare for Twi'lek Females, made her voice annoyingly thick, "We're here!" Her tone was far too cheery for someone who's job included feeding and wiping the asses of grown men. "Finally." She giggled, although he couldn't see it, she probably took the back of her hand and waved it across her brow in an exaggerated motion, like she'd just completed an arduous task.

Seamus's eyes tracked her with disgust as she waddled in front of him, The bright green colored scrub bottoms nearly hung off of her ass and the top, colored pink with cute designs of Ewoks printed on it was a few sizes too small, as it rose far enough for Seamus to see her blue belly botton. Most disgusting of all was the contractor ID badge that hung around her neck. It wasn't the badge itself, but how she wore it around. She Pranced around the Psyche-Ward with the attitude that because she was on a Military Vessel, she was in the shit with the rest of the grunts. Nevermind she was returned back to whatever shithole she came from Pre-mobilization. That shit may work on guys who've had their brains so fried they can't even remember they're first names, but it wasn't gonna fly with Seamus.

Seamus sat there, staring at her large blue lips that wrapped around rows of grotesque yellow pointed teeth as she smiled at him. He concluded that She needed the exercise and should walk from one end of the ship to the other more often. He also couldn't help but think, if pushing him around in an assisted wheelchair was such a shitty job, Maybe she'd find that getting shot at in some urban shithole on Malastare would be a more suitable jobs.

"Staff-Sargent Goff?" She asked with the same annoying cheery tone as one of her fat pudgy fingers activated the Buzzer. "Your Soldier's here."

"Thanks Lynn." A large man said gruffly when the door opened. Not large like the nurse though, but like a typical Sargent.

"See ya later Lance Corporal..." Seamus's blood boiled as she paused to re-read his name-tape. "Hassay."

"Eat. Shit."

With as much time as she spent pretending to be a soldier, one of them, the very least she could fucking do was remember his goddamn name.

"Lance Corporal Hassay." Sgt. Goff said, as he shook Seamus's hand. "I'm Staff-Sargent Goff. I'll be your Platoon Sargent. I'll show you to your rack."

"Nice to meet you Sargent." Seamus said in the friendliest voice he could muster as the Sgt. Goff wheeled him inside the bay. The empty room was completely identical to his old one, same slate walls, blue wall lockers, perfectly made bunks with tightly folded green woolen blankets covering them.

"Here we are Lance Corporal." The sargent said, stopping at one of the bunks that had been stripped of sheets. "You don't have to worry about-"

"Sargent. I'd like to put away my gear. If that'd be alright." Seamus said, noting a small knot forming in his throat once again.

An Empathetic look crossed the Sargent's face. "Sure son." He said sympathetically as one of his large hands firmly patted Seamus on the back as the Lance Corporal started to rolled himself over to his wall Locker.

Seamus opened the locker door, and hid behind it, motionless, waiting until his new Sargent left the room and the door shut before weeping.

....

Seamus wheeled himself into the Lounge after the day was done, managing to gain his composure long enough to leave the bay. Silently ignoring the stares of the other patrons, he rolled himself to one of the more sparse areas of the bar. He grasped the edge of the bar, and the stool in front of it with his hands, and with a labored grunt he managed to pull himself up from the chair, and land onto the stool.

A few beers later Seamus's attention turned from the beer he ordered to the left, 2 off duty naval crewmen, each with his own escort for the night, all staring at him, giggling to each other, like gossiping young schoolgirls, as they both whispered cripple jokes back and forth to one another. Seamus gulped down the rest of his beer, slamming the empty bottle on the bar loud enough to get their attention.

"Not today." Seamus snarled, glaring at the group.

"Gotta problem Cripple?" the nearest of 2 men slurred back to him.

"I may be in a chair but I'll still fuckin murder all of you." Seamus threatened. That probably wouldn't happen, Seamus wasn't the best fighter in the Federation, being buzzed and the fact he was paralyzed from the waist down didn't help his case either. Still, it felt good to tell them off.

"Fuckin broke-dick." The 2nd countered as the group moved further down the bar, away from him. Beating up a cripple wasn't worth a few nights in the brig.

"Fuck you too." Seamus said, hand in the air, his thumb and lone middle finger extended upward as they moved away from him. The same hand grasped the empty beer bottle and knocked it against the bar, a full one replaced it, and Seamus head returned to it's previous position, staring down at his drink setting on the bar.
"Nuts!" - General McAuliffe
"No, the reply is decidedly not affirmative."

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Laurel WinteShrine
Lieutenant
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Joined: 2011-07-07 21:42
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Re: I hardly knew ya.

Post by Laurel WinteShrine » 2012-07-18 11:40

Massacre on Malastare, the reports had blared, though with the impassivity that reporters typically utilized. Who is to Blame?

Who cared? Reporting the news was one thing, but pointing fingers hardly seemed respectful before the lives lost could even be properly mourned. Such was the way of the galaxy these days, it seemed.

Laurel was about to turn it off before something else flickered across the screen.
An image of an Imperial Army division, a picture that had been taken in better times, the soldiers staring at her bright and proud. Almost instantly she had zeroed in onto a familiar face, and she stood in her disbelief.

Laurel had been acquainted with Seamus what felt like ages ago, at the ball her parents had held the summer before. She had been upset, she remembered, when he had stopped as she fled outside, then asking her to teach him how to dance later on in the evening. More importantly, he had been there the night she had met Wolfgang, had been with him to rescue her when she had been abducted within her own home. It made for a tiny piece of forever ago, but still one that she had always easily looked fondly upon.

Numb, she managed to regain her composure to dress herself as the news droned on mindlessly behind her unheard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hassay..hmm.”

The nurse chewed on her bluish lip with enough vehemence that Laurel thought she may very well eat it off; though the way she was eyeing the small cake the brunette had brought with her made the young woman suspicious.

Her very breath had left her when she had been directed to the ship’s medical bay and he had not been there, only to have been told that he had recently made his way to the lounge alone. Catching a brief glimpse of the other broken patients in their beds had been enough to unsettle her stomach, and she was instantly grateful that Seamus at least had the ability to wander elsewhere if he so wished, a small blessing. She had been on the Nemesis once long ago, but managed to find her way to the lounge easily enough.

It was quiet enough in the lounge, patrons dispersed here and there as they were most likely winding down from duty before retiring for the evening. She felt herself jump at the sound of a bottle being rapped against the bar caught her attention, then smiled in relief as she recognized Seamus' face, seated by himself as she made her way over to him. Her eyes suddenly fell upon the chair alongside him at the bar, and she stopped. Her eyes raked desperately around from where he was seated to find the someone, anyone else it belonged to.
She already knew.

The legs she had once taught him to waltz with one immortal summer ago, were gone. Politely, she knew that she would not be so coarse as to stare but the knowledge of it was painful enough. Wordlessly moving to sit on the stool beside him, Laurel tucked her legs underneath the stool so as not to kick him; bitterly, she knew that he would not have felt the sensation even if she did. People sitting at the other end of the bar were mumbling amongst themselves and flicking quick, curious gazes their way.

And Seamus himself looked… lost.

“I’m so happy to see you.” Such an awkward way to greet him she conceded, but what could she have said? 'Good evening, I’m happy to see you alive' seemed morbid, if not a completely asinine way to address someone. And yet, a simple 'Hello' just would have felt so hollow.
Hello. Hollow. She was already rambling to herself and she had barely uttered anything to him.

The young officer nervously traced idle lines in the moisture on the bar top as she thought of something more meaningful to say, ordering a glass of wine whilst she did so.

She may as well have been sincere.

“I was so scared for you,” she began, slowly. “I mean, I saw the report and I was just… scared. Laurel noticed that he was also here alone; he had a friend with him back then, at the ball. For the life of her she could not remember his name.

Had he, too…?

Guitily she turned toward Seamus and mustered up her best smile, opening the small box with the cake she had brought. It seemed like a silly, trivial offering in light of.. well, everything. The thought of it only served to make her feel even more childish, uninitiated: The poor man had been through hell by the look of him, and she had thought to bring him cake.

“I know that hospital food is pretty terrible, I wanted to bring you something a bit more appetizing. I swear, there was a nurse I bumped into who looked ready to eat through the box.” Laurel realized that she was beginning to ramble audibly this time, and she blushed. The look of exhaustion, a certain kind of fatigue that she knew would not merely go away with sleep had engraved itself upon his face, and she began to rapidly blink so as not to start crying again. Humbled by his obvious pain, her voice became quiet.
“I had to find you.”
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{One should never confuse duty for loyalty. One either purposefully serves, or serves a purpose.}

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