[IC] Rikki Syndathik's Holo-Journal [Unavailable IC]

[Trakaton Kalkoran]

A Holo-image titled 'The Calm Before the Storm' flickers to life of a young Zabrak Acolyte perched on top of a military structure, sat in a meditative pose, with curious yellow eyes and a Vibrosword hilt visible over her right shoulder. A large messy scar sits in the middle of her forehead, along with numerous smaller ones scattered under her eyes. In the background, occasional explosions can be heard in the far distance, and the low chatter of a disgruntled military camp peppers the silence that would otherwise be present before she began to speak.
Upon stabilising the Holocommunicator against whatever it was leaning on, she sat up straight, and stared into the camera, her expression currently unreadable.

"This is a Holo recording from Acolyte Rikki Syndathik, Zabrak Acolyte of the esteemed House Horuset."

She took a moment to readjust her position slightly, trying and failing to get comfortable, eyes flickering off to the side as something exploded somewhere over the horizon, before her gaze came back to the camera once more.

"We are at war with the Republic. We were diverted from heading to Corellia, and deployed on a planet suddenly, Plooma. We were thrust straight into battle, against soldiers and Jedi alike. The Jedi filth ran, and I have been reduced to wearing a scavenged secondhand belt from a dead Imperial, as my own belt was used as a makeshift bandage, stopping an Apprentice’s guts escaping his body on the battlefield after he was shot straight through with a blaster. That was day one. Corellia is lost, and this planet in the Northern Territories is now part of our front line."

She clasped her hands in front of her, brow furrowed somewhat as she continued, disappointment at the situation evident.

"We have been on Plooma for four days now. We are cut off from supply lines, and ration levels were low to start, reserves destroyed by Republic filth. Members of the powerbase have been heading out hunting and foraging, to the extent that the local animal populace around Arctis Outpost, our main camp, has been noticeably thinned.Myself and another Acolyte went foraging yesterday and came back with a captive and a corpse. We were fishing in the lake to the North West of camp, and two men attacked us, presumably locals, as we later discovered they had no dog tags. My fellow Acolyte killed one, and I knocked the other unconscious, wanting to take him back to camp for interrogation. The corpse shall be used as food for Sith Sarias’s beasts, no doubt, as shall the live one after we are done with him."

Her tone grew cold at that last sentence, malice flooding her words, her mouth curling into a slight sneer, before she resumed her neutral expression.

"I have been assigned to Mundus Forward Outpost for the next three days, or longer. A short shuttle journey took us here, the camp is on our Eastern Front. The camp smells of fuel, iron, and blood. The soldiers are starving and exhausted, awaiting a shipment of supplies that have not come. Even without extending my senses, their fatigue and frustration is palpable. It is almost pitiful, though I can hardly blame them. The plains to the East are strangely calm, with little sign of war, though perhaps this is just the calm before the storm. A transport ship is crashed not far out into the plains, Imperial in design, and a soldier stationed in the camp suggested it may have been shot down. So close to our line, it is almost unnerving.There is a massive facility far off to the East, and I cannot help but wonder whether that is where we are going. We are stationed here to undergo a rescue mission for one of our own later today. If we succeed, we will be rewarded. If we fail, yet live, we will be here much longer, surrounded by our shame and failure. I will give my all to not see that happen. Should it take my life, it will be a life given for the Empire, for the Dark Lord, a life well sacrificed. If I do not record another entry here, that will be why. I probably should have started these months ago, but I suppose there’s nothing like the looming threat of death to spur one into action."

Her tone shifted to almost one of sadistic amusement as she spoke the last few words, a smirk appearing on her face at the last line.

"To whoever may watch this recording, Force Serve you, this is Rikki Syndathik, signing off, for hopefully the first, but not last, time."

Her expression turned stoic, she bowed her head slightly to the camera, right hand over her left heart, before reaching forwards to turn the recording off once more.