[center][h1][color=f26522]Karthus Ephren[/color][/h1][/center] [center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/750x/ca/74/81/ca74812ee97383fa69f3417fd8ab020a.jpg [/img][/center] [hr] “Get down” “Watch the left flank!” “We’re pinned down!” “We need medics over here now!” “Artillery!” Karthus jolted awake from his dream breathing a bit heavier than usual. His cold metallic hand reached up to the side of his face. He flinched slightly from the sudden coldness of metal against the scarred flesh. His eyes wandered around the empty dark room for a moment before he felt his muscles finally begin to relax. He realized any further attempt at sleep would be pointless so he resigned himself to waking up much earlier than necessary yet again. Fully standing from his bed he walked towards the small bathroom and began splashing water on his face. Pulling the towel across his face he looked at his own reflection staring back. His gaze tracked from his face to his metal and back up to wear the prosthetic arm fused with the skin on his chest. Pushing away from the sink he turned to the small medical case hanging on the wall containing his mask. Taking one last breath he placed the mask over his face feeling it lock into place. He exhaled the deep breath he had taken and took another long slow breath as the rebreather kicked in and his lungs filled with oxygen. Walking back into the room he donned his signature armor, taking care to ensure everything was secured properly and looked as it should. He lifted his hand towards his nightstand pulling the saber staff that had been resting just above it into his palm. Turning it over in his hand Karthus inspected the weapon for a moment until he was staffed and placed it on his back. Gazing at the clock he estimated it wouldn’t take long before they arrived above Mandalore and the festival began. He wondered what the journey would entail for him and the other imperials present. He knew the empress and other nobles were excited to show off the new imperials as well as the other guardians of the empire himself included. He hoped the new imperials wouldn't make a fool of themselves and their empire, but he had a feeling that was wishful thinking at best. [hr][hr] [center][h1]After the meeting[/h1][/center] Karthus' head shot to the sky out of reflex as the starfighters rocketed overhead banking around the rooftops of the various skyscrapers in the city. He let his muscles relax, taking a moment to watch this small portion of the race. It irritated him slightly seeing the new imperial pilot trailing behind as they struggled to keep up with the older more experienced. Karthus couldn't say that he was surprised however, age and experience often did topple youth and energy in such competitions. Regardless Karthus continued to make his way down the polished stone steps of the palace taking in the sights. The festivities were quite the site to behold with stalls and people filling the streets. People from all over the galaxy seemed to have made the journey to Mandalore for the celebration. It was truly a first to see “representatives” from just about every faction in the galaxy present in one city all playing nice. Or at least as nice as alcohol and differing opinions would allow. Lucky though the Mandalorian's seemed to have a tight control on any disturbances that started to arise. The Mandalorian's were a curious culture that had gone through drastic changes all in a single generation's time, or at least as he was told that is. If he was honest Karthus had mixed feelings about the Mandalorian's. On the one hand they did manage to produce possibly the greatest warriors the galaxy had ever seen aside from the Jedi and Sith of old legends. Yet now they seemed to be cowards hiding behind a treaty in their own corner of the galaxy. It was this dichotomy that served to displease Karthus the most. To have such strength and not use it was something he believed was a grave sin. Still lost in his own thoughts about the Mandalorian's and the Jedi of this republic, Karthus wandered aimlessly through the various streets of crowded people. Even with the variety of people and species present for the celebration, Karthus still managed to stand out amongst them. He had grown accustomed to it; however, the mask and robotic arm did little to give off a welcoming visage. Karthus was pulled from his thoughts feeling a thud against his leg. Feeling something cold against his leg he looked down seeing a small child on the ground staring sadly at an empty cup beside her. Looking at his leg he saw what he assumed was once the contents of the girls cup plastered all over his pant leg. Turning his face back to the girl who was now on the verge of tears he quickly bent down doing his best to show he was smiling with the revealed half of his face. [color=f26522]“I’m so sorry I must have gotten in your way didn’t I? Please forgive my clumsiness.”[/color] He said to the small child in a calm voice reaching into a small pouch on his armor. Grabbing a handful of credits he dropped them in the child’s hand. [color=f26522]“Here go buy yourself two of whatever treat I made you drop.”[/color] Giving the girl a pat on the head Karthus stood from his crouching stance and continued his walk down the street. “Thank you mister scary man!” the little girl called out once she had stood up and looked at the credits in awe. Karthus only raised his hand signaling he had heard her before disappearing in the crowd that resumed its liveliness.