12-02-2017, 09:52 AM
The Battle Rabbit had woken up in a bed in the medical bay, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, rushing between beds, their individual conversations indecipherable amidst the general hubbub.
Doctors and nurses, by the looks of it... and human ones, at that; there were no droids in sight. Well, no functioning ones at least; the spiky, many-limbed abomination which he had summoned previously seemed to have been reduced to scrap metal and its various parts all piled up in one huge heap at the side of the room furthest from the door.
Other beds were occupied by the other injured members of the squad. After that last battle, they had lost almost all of their 'by-the-book' stormtrooper reinforcements from Tier One... and given that they had already begun their own unauthorised recruitment campaign just before the NSW's attack on the barracks, it was likely that Imperial Command would use this event to make it clear that they were distancing themselves from this project by refusing to send down any more support for them.
In fact, that seemed the most likely explanation to the Rabbit as to why the patients here were being treated by regular people, rather than proper medical droids, which would surely be much more efficient. They must have been hired by Kroll (most likely with Hijiri's Omnilium) to do what they could for everyone here, as the ex-nobleman would have realised that appealing to their superiors for help would get them nowhere fast...
If they wanted to operate outside the system... or, at least, outside the system's generally accepted boundaries... they just might actually be allowed to get away with it, since this was Tier Five, after all, where the Empire lacked much of the power they held in the higher tiers... but that would only be the case if they could prove they could live up to all their wild claims... they weren't off to a good start.
And frankly, that last combat had been a shitshow of gargantuan proportions. They had lost a few soldiers fighting just one Prime and more to the rest of his goons, and even those who had lived had done so only because he had shown more interest in facing off against the Battle Rabbit than killing them...
Not to mention, their opponent had even given them the time to rest and recuperate mid-battle, since he'd thought it would be too boring for him otherwise. Worst of all, though, none of them had even thought to bring along a Banishment Circle – an item used to seal away unwanted individuals in an alternate plane called 'the Underverse' – which meant that in as little as a week, Shotgun Steve might be right back in action and terrorising Northside once more...
And the next time he faced them, the Claw – surely humiliated by this loss – would by no means ever consider going easy on them a second time. They would have to continue their training in the meantime, recruit more backup, and likely come up with some other surprises as well, if they hoped to fend off their nemesis the next time he reared his head...
That said, Hijiri had other things on his mind right now. He felt sickened by what he had seen. First a squad of imperial stormtroopers opening fire on a helpless, unarmed woman... then Brandon Windvale callously tossing some sort of custom-built incendiary grenade at two more women.
Watching those two burn, standing right there, yet helpless to do anything to save them, had been one of the hardest experiences of his life... the worst thing wasn't their horrific deaths in and of themselves; had such an atrocity been committed by ordinary criminals – as they presumably were, probably rather frequently given the amount of crime there generally was around here – that would only have strengthened his resolve...
No, it was seeing his friends and allies performing the deed that left him suddenly questioning whether he had even been right to join the Empire at all... as well as whether he should ever have agreed to Kroll's plan... by willingly handing off his authority to the false sergeant – all for the sake of this great end goal of his; a safer, more secure Northside – the Battle Rabbit had weakened his own influence.
Had he instead simply stuck to the EPD's usual rigid command structure, then the others never would have thought they could simply ignore his orders in the middle of a battle like that.
He wasn't sure how exactly, but Hijiri was sure that if Shotgun Steve had been telling the truth about having created those girls from scratch, their personalities included, then there must have been some way he could have used his own Omnilium to free them from whatever hold the old man had over them... yet that would no longer be possible. Steve's playthings had died with him, but unlike their master, they would not be returning.
He lay there in silence for some time, not even letting on that he was awake as he struggled to come up with an answer for this moral dilemma. Eventually, he succeeded, more or less, realising that there was only one thing he could possibly feel was the right thing to do at the moment.
He needed to leave.
It may not be permanent, but at least until he had cleared his head of this guilt, he could no longer pretend to be a part of these peoples' world. Stormtroopers were taught to kill without hesitation, in the name of their Emperor, yet in his reality, the only ones the Battle Rabbits had actually killed were Ogres... the very embodiment of darkness and negativity.
He had originally told himself that these gangsters – the NSW in particular – were just as bad as those fiends... and had forced himself to overlook any details which conflicted with his adopted worldview... such as the emotions of that man he had killed in the corridor earlier, when they were ambushed; the goon had accidentally shot and killed one of his comrades whilst aiming for the Rabbit, and rather than pity the distraught man, Hijiri had attacked him from behind, splitting his skull like a ripe melon.
In retrospect, that may not have been the most morally defensible of actions...
Yes, he had to clear his head. He needed to go and find out for himself if these criminals and thugs were truly the irredeemable filth that the government on Tier One liked to paint them as... and further, he needed to think over how many of his 'friends' here he could truly trust.
The elf had disobeyed him without the slightest hesitation and shown absolutely no remorse over killing those three, despite them being essentially victims in all this. On the other hand, Frank loved to keep the company of those rough, rebellious types. Could someone like that really be happy working for an organisation such as the Empire? Was it all just an act, or was there more to his story?
Thoughts for another time, perhaps. If he chose to simply wander off and leave the Empire – or even Coruscant entirely – to its troubles and find a more benevolent group to serve, then none of that would matter. The first step was to decide whether he could justify remaining within the Empire Peace Division. Everything else could be worked out after he had made that call.
He sat up, about to push himself out of bed and head off right then and there.
Immediately, he gasped as sharp pains shot through his chest, emanating from his many gunshot wounds, the painkillers from before... however many hours ago their battle had actually been... having clearly worn off.
That was just the beginning, though; the moment he let out that gasp, his jaw felt as though a sledgehammer had been swung into it at full force. He immediately collapsed back onto the bed, curling up almost into a foetal position as his hands went up to gingerly touch his ruined jaw. He found the entire lower half of his face wrapped tightly in bandages, holding the bones in place as he healed.
As a Prime, Hijiri would be able to recover from even such a serious injury as this, eventually; faster if he were to spend time healing the wound with Omnilium. Yet that didn't stop him from feeling the pain of it whilst it lasted.
The instant the numerous medics scattered throughout the room had seen him try to rise, three of them had rushed across to his bedside, two grabbing his arms and holding him down whilst a third prepared a worryingly long syringe filled with a translucent violet liquid.
Normally, he could have likely overpowered them; they were hardly trained combatants, after all, but as weak and wounded as he currently was, the Rabbit was unable to resist as the needle was slid into one arm and the tranquilliser injected...
Doctors and nurses, by the looks of it... and human ones, at that; there were no droids in sight. Well, no functioning ones at least; the spiky, many-limbed abomination which he had summoned previously seemed to have been reduced to scrap metal and its various parts all piled up in one huge heap at the side of the room furthest from the door.
Other beds were occupied by the other injured members of the squad. After that last battle, they had lost almost all of their 'by-the-book' stormtrooper reinforcements from Tier One... and given that they had already begun their own unauthorised recruitment campaign just before the NSW's attack on the barracks, it was likely that Imperial Command would use this event to make it clear that they were distancing themselves from this project by refusing to send down any more support for them.
In fact, that seemed the most likely explanation to the Rabbit as to why the patients here were being treated by regular people, rather than proper medical droids, which would surely be much more efficient. They must have been hired by Kroll (most likely with Hijiri's Omnilium) to do what they could for everyone here, as the ex-nobleman would have realised that appealing to their superiors for help would get them nowhere fast...
If they wanted to operate outside the system... or, at least, outside the system's generally accepted boundaries... they just might actually be allowed to get away with it, since this was Tier Five, after all, where the Empire lacked much of the power they held in the higher tiers... but that would only be the case if they could prove they could live up to all their wild claims... they weren't off to a good start.
And frankly, that last combat had been a shitshow of gargantuan proportions. They had lost a few soldiers fighting just one Prime and more to the rest of his goons, and even those who had lived had done so only because he had shown more interest in facing off against the Battle Rabbit than killing them...
Not to mention, their opponent had even given them the time to rest and recuperate mid-battle, since he'd thought it would be too boring for him otherwise. Worst of all, though, none of them had even thought to bring along a Banishment Circle – an item used to seal away unwanted individuals in an alternate plane called 'the Underverse' – which meant that in as little as a week, Shotgun Steve might be right back in action and terrorising Northside once more...
And the next time he faced them, the Claw – surely humiliated by this loss – would by no means ever consider going easy on them a second time. They would have to continue their training in the meantime, recruit more backup, and likely come up with some other surprises as well, if they hoped to fend off their nemesis the next time he reared his head...
That said, Hijiri had other things on his mind right now. He felt sickened by what he had seen. First a squad of imperial stormtroopers opening fire on a helpless, unarmed woman... then Brandon Windvale callously tossing some sort of custom-built incendiary grenade at two more women.
Watching those two burn, standing right there, yet helpless to do anything to save them, had been one of the hardest experiences of his life... the worst thing wasn't their horrific deaths in and of themselves; had such an atrocity been committed by ordinary criminals – as they presumably were, probably rather frequently given the amount of crime there generally was around here – that would only have strengthened his resolve...
No, it was seeing his friends and allies performing the deed that left him suddenly questioning whether he had even been right to join the Empire at all... as well as whether he should ever have agreed to Kroll's plan... by willingly handing off his authority to the false sergeant – all for the sake of this great end goal of his; a safer, more secure Northside – the Battle Rabbit had weakened his own influence.
Had he instead simply stuck to the EPD's usual rigid command structure, then the others never would have thought they could simply ignore his orders in the middle of a battle like that.
He wasn't sure how exactly, but Hijiri was sure that if Shotgun Steve had been telling the truth about having created those girls from scratch, their personalities included, then there must have been some way he could have used his own Omnilium to free them from whatever hold the old man had over them... yet that would no longer be possible. Steve's playthings had died with him, but unlike their master, they would not be returning.
He lay there in silence for some time, not even letting on that he was awake as he struggled to come up with an answer for this moral dilemma. Eventually, he succeeded, more or less, realising that there was only one thing he could possibly feel was the right thing to do at the moment.
He needed to leave.
It may not be permanent, but at least until he had cleared his head of this guilt, he could no longer pretend to be a part of these peoples' world. Stormtroopers were taught to kill without hesitation, in the name of their Emperor, yet in his reality, the only ones the Battle Rabbits had actually killed were Ogres... the very embodiment of darkness and negativity.
He had originally told himself that these gangsters – the NSW in particular – were just as bad as those fiends... and had forced himself to overlook any details which conflicted with his adopted worldview... such as the emotions of that man he had killed in the corridor earlier, when they were ambushed; the goon had accidentally shot and killed one of his comrades whilst aiming for the Rabbit, and rather than pity the distraught man, Hijiri had attacked him from behind, splitting his skull like a ripe melon.
In retrospect, that may not have been the most morally defensible of actions...
Yes, he had to clear his head. He needed to go and find out for himself if these criminals and thugs were truly the irredeemable filth that the government on Tier One liked to paint them as... and further, he needed to think over how many of his 'friends' here he could truly trust.
The elf had disobeyed him without the slightest hesitation and shown absolutely no remorse over killing those three, despite them being essentially victims in all this. On the other hand, Frank loved to keep the company of those rough, rebellious types. Could someone like that really be happy working for an organisation such as the Empire? Was it all just an act, or was there more to his story?
Thoughts for another time, perhaps. If he chose to simply wander off and leave the Empire – or even Coruscant entirely – to its troubles and find a more benevolent group to serve, then none of that would matter. The first step was to decide whether he could justify remaining within the Empire Peace Division. Everything else could be worked out after he had made that call.
He sat up, about to push himself out of bed and head off right then and there.
Immediately, he gasped as sharp pains shot through his chest, emanating from his many gunshot wounds, the painkillers from before... however many hours ago their battle had actually been... having clearly worn off.
That was just the beginning, though; the moment he let out that gasp, his jaw felt as though a sledgehammer had been swung into it at full force. He immediately collapsed back onto the bed, curling up almost into a foetal position as his hands went up to gingerly touch his ruined jaw. He found the entire lower half of his face wrapped tightly in bandages, holding the bones in place as he healed.
As a Prime, Hijiri would be able to recover from even such a serious injury as this, eventually; faster if he were to spend time healing the wound with Omnilium. Yet that didn't stop him from feeling the pain of it whilst it lasted.
The instant the numerous medics scattered throughout the room had seen him try to rise, three of them had rushed across to his bedside, two grabbing his arms and holding him down whilst a third prepared a worryingly long syringe filled with a translucent violet liquid.
Normally, he could have likely overpowered them; they were hardly trained combatants, after all, but as weak and wounded as he currently was, the Rabbit was unable to resist as the needle was slid into one arm and the tranquilliser injected...
![[Image: Hijiri_Name_Sig.png]](https://image.ibb.co/k1H7Hd/Hijiri_Name_Sig.png)