GRIMM.
No results.
Weiss crumpled her brow in frustration. Her latest phrase joined Remnant and faunus in the fruitless search history. She had been glad to discover the base had a library - though it had no books, only terminals - and relieved to find that libraries were mostly deserted in this world like on Remnant. It gave her a place to get away from everyone else, and an avenue for answers.
DUST.
1,789 results found. Displaying 100 of 1,789:
Dust Stalker
Dust Contamination - Droids and Robotics
Ochroid Dust
Cosmic Dust
Weiss shook her head. A potential avenue for answers, but so far no answers.
DUST. VOLATILE. EXPLOSIVE.
No results.
DUST. ENERGY SOURCE.
No results.
AURA.
No results.
SEMBLANCE.
No results.
Weiss leaned back in her chair and played with her hair. She absently tried to summon her aura, and thought she felt a spark on her fingertips. Hopeful, she held her left arm out and focused on summoning a glyph, but there wasn't even a spark this time.
On one hand, not having the abilities she was used to her entire life was terrifying. She felt like a part of her was missing, and she felt very vulnerable unable to channel - or even feel - aura.
But on the other hand, she found herself getting used to it. Day to day life was the same, of course, and she certainly hadn't had to fight any Grimm.
She leaned forward again and began typing.
SUPERHUMAN ABILITIES.
2 results found. Displaying 2 of 2:
Jedi
Sith
Weiss looked at the strange results curiously, somewhat surprised anything had come up. She clicked on "Jedi," and a window popped up.
Jedi. Noun. Terrorist group/A member of the Jedi terrorist group.
The Jedi remain high priority targets and dedicated enemies of the New Order. They continue to ferment dissent and treachery against the Empire. Any information regarding the whereabouts of any Jedi is to be divulged to a commanding officer at once. Any non-combatants suspected to have any information regarding the whereabouts of Jedi are to be apprehended for questioning.
The Jedi are suspected to play important roles in various terrorist and criminal organizations. They are well known to be charismatic, beguiling individuals who recruit large numbers of fanatic followers. Many of these followers believe the Jedi have superhuman abilities, however these claims are unfounded. The Jedi themselves actively spread myths of their supposed supernatural abilities as a means of recruiting more cultists and disheartening opponents. Any propaganda or claims related to Jedi should be reported to a commanding officer immediately.
Independent engagement with Jedi is prohibited. If a Jedi is found, units should surround their location and request further instructions. Special units will be sent in to neutralize the Jedi. This is required due to the sensitive nature of the Jedi and their terror cell or cult following. The Empire is devoted to ensuring the successful deradicalization and deconversion of Jedi victims and exhibits great delicacy in dealing with them, which a standard assault would not be conducive towards.
If a unit comes into accidental contact with a Jedi, for whatever reason, immediate and overwhelming lethal force is to be deployed at once. Your commanding officer with provide relevant situational instructions.
Weiss thought that was rather odd for an encyclopedic entry. She still didn't know what the Jedi were, besides a terrorist group. Nor did she know what superhuman abilities they claimed to have, which had been her main interest. She closed the window and returned to the search results.
'Sith' she thought. 'What kind of a word is 'sith?" She clicked.
ACCESS REQUEST: SITH. ARCHIVAL ACCESS DENIED. ACCESS REQUEST LOGGED UNDER:
MONIKER: SCHNEE, WEISS
LOCATION: STRMTROP ANAXES III CNTR
RANK: UNRANKED - CADET
THIS REQUEST HAS BEEN REPORTED.
Annnnnnnd that was probably her cue to leave. She was trying to stay out of trouble, not get into it!
She hurriedly cleared her search and removed her biocard from the terminal. She unassumingly left the library, and, having nothing else to do, started walking towards to her next class.
Sweat beaded on Weiss' forehead as she poured all her strength into her arms, shoving against her adversary with all the might she could muster.
"Come on Weiss! You can do it!" rang Trina's encouragement from out of sight, followed by a few equally generic phrases to the same point.
She could only puff out her cheeks in response, a growl escaping her clenched teeth as she finally fully extend her arms and slammed her opponent back into its place.
Weiss let out a heavy gasp as she sat up on her bench, grabbing a towel out of her new friend's hand and dabbing lightly at her face.
"That was great!" exclaimed the redhead. "For someone of your size who doesn't work out, that was a great first set!"
Weiss huffed indignantly as she pushed off her seat and began to remove the twenty pound weights from each side of her bench press. "For your information, I've worked out most of my life. Trina raised an eyebrow. "At least… not in the way you can see it." Weiss hastily added.
"Uh huh… and um… where exactly is all this muscle mass you've been building?" Trina replied skeptically, failing to hide a smirk as she pointedly stared at Weiss' thin frame.
Weiss just stared at the obnoxious lady for a few seconds before throwing the towel into Trina's face, who gave an indignant squawk. It was much easier to just avoid any conversation about her time on Remnant rather than sound like a complete nutcase.
Not to mention satisfying. If there was one thing that bunking with Trina these past few days had taught her, it was that the woman was insufferable if you gave her a single thread she could pull on. Give her a chance to make a joke, show any weakness at all, and she'd dig at it with a passion.
She wasn't a bad person though, and was almost a more tolerable version of Yang in some cases. It was just funny to watch her pout when Weiss clammed up.
"Ech. Brat." groused Trina as she dropped the sweaty towel to the ground before grabbing her own weights placing them onto the bar. More than thrice Weiss' own, much to her ire.
Weiss took a quick swig from her water bottle as Trina laid down on the bench and settled under the bars, confidently grabbing the metal bar in a practised fashion before lifting it off its rack with a grunt.
As her colleague started to pump the weights, Weiss couldn't help but admire how something as simple as weight lifting was universal. It really shouldn't have been, but the fact that they didn't have some miracle paste to grow muscle was pretty surprising given everything else she had seen.
Back on Remnant, weight lifting had only really been something done by civilians or soldiers. And even then, it was mostly for cosmetic purposes. Some people wanted to look massive or cut like a diamond, where as others did not. It was apart of their culture of identity and uniqueness, just like their clothes.
However, the strength gained from the activities was almost negligible when compared to the benefits of Aura. Anyone who actually needed to use excess force had their aura unlocked, and the healing factor that came with it prevented muscle mass from tearing and reforming into harder knots.
Out here, as Trina let out a loud shout as the weights began to shake in her arms, it was clearly another story. The lack of aura meant any advantage was invaluable, and those who wanted to survive in this life style pursed it with rabid intensity.
"Fierfek!" swore Trina as she barely managed to get the bar onto the rack once again, slamming it against the hard durasteel.
"I hate doin' this crap, honestly. Not enough going on to stimulate my senses," she muttered as she pulled out a fresh towel and buried her head in it.
Weiss was surprised by the admission, as Trina had admittedly come across as a bit of a sports nut.
"Why? Trying not to let your neck get crushed because you were too weak is pretty engaging."
Trina waved her off as she stood up and stretched, slowly walking towards the other end of the gymnasium, Weiss close behind.
"That's because you're new to it, and can make a lot of progress. I've been doing this kind of stuff for years, so it's not really amazing for me. Now that," she stopped, pointing at a set of rings hanging from the low ceiling, "is interesting. I've always loved that kind of stuff."
"Ah. Yes. We used to practice with these when I was younger," mused Weiss, "we had routines we would follow and instructors to teach us the finer points of gymnastics." She let out a wistful sigh. Those truly had been the best of times, back when her mother was still active and Winter was in the house alongside her.
The memories brought a smile to her face, and Weiss found herself grabbing the rings. Hoisting herself up on her noticeably weaker limbs than she was used to, Weiss grunted as she pushed onwards and slowly lifted her head above her arms until they were down by her sides.
Openly grinning now, Weiss let herself fall into her ancient routine that was still etched into her mind. It wasn't too difficult, being built for an auraless child after all, but Weiss still found herself a bit rusty.
A few flips, twirls and stretches in the air later, and soon Weiss was fully back into the motions, allowing herself a few moments of nostalgia before flipping cleanly off the hoops and sticking the landing back down on the mat.
The movement had felt nice, and had stretched her muscles better than any of Trina's earlier exercises had. She found her muscles were burning from the sudden exertion, and her breath was short too. It had felt calming though, the exertion being something she had never really taken pleasure in until now. The bliss was shattered when the sharp wolf-whistle of her self-appointed trainer cut through the air.
"Daaaaaaang Weiss. That was, well, hot!" Wearing a wide grin, Trina bumped her elbow against Weiss and whispered in her ear. "Betcha' got a lotta guys wanting to marry you with that kinda technique in bed, eh?"
It took all of Weiss willpower not to respond to the vulgar jab in kind.
At least, not verbally.
Trina fell to the ground, laughing between gasps as Weiss drove the wind out of her with a well placed elbow.
Weiss blatantly ignored her friend and her well deserved strife as she launched a towel on top of her red hair. Flashing her a wide smile, Weiss let just a little bit of her old snark to slip back into her tone.
"Come along, dear Trina. We have to find something for you to do other than the whole barracks."
If there was one thing unique about the medical wing of the base, it was that it somehow managed to surpass the stark-white of the rest of the base. The room Weiss was currently sat in was downright blinding.
Sitting on a chair in a lecture hall structured very much like her old ones at Beacon, Weiss prepped her datapad for the fourth time since she had sat down. Years of prep had taught her not to show it, but she was practically vibrating with excitement.
To think, she was about to observe- no, learn medical techniques countless ages ahead of Remnants! Countless species had contributed to the universal practice of medicine for eons, evolving and adapting alongside technology. Out of everything she'd seen for far, seeing first a first aid class on her schedule was what made her eyes bulge out of her sockets more than anything else.
Not everyone in the classroom seemed as excited as she was, but by now Weiss had begun to expect it.
'Some people just couldn't appreciate the luxuries they were born with.' Weiss sighed. But that hardly mattered, so long as they didn't hinder her own learning experience.
As it turned out, she didn't have to worry. Despite their clear lack of interest in the topic, nearly all the cadets sat up straight as an older woman walked into the room with nearly her full gear on, aside from her helmet. On her shoulder was a bronze pauldron, which looked a bit too similar to that of a Commander's orange.
Despite her greying brown hair and scarred face, the woman flashed the classroom a wide smile.
"How are we all doing today? Had a good breakfast?" came the upbeat voice as she fiddled with a screen near her desk.
A few scattered voices of approval or confirmation went up, to which she nodded sagely. "Ah… good, good. I hope you also had a good nights sleep, otherwise I'll have to show you how we wake up drugged up troopers!" Weiss barked out a laugh, earning a polite smile as the instructor's eyes ghosted over her own, before landing on the people who neither sat up nor laughed at her jokes.
"I can see some of you may need it…" she muttered, not quite a whisper. A few she had looked at flinched, while more rolled their eyes.
The few stragglers sat up quick as a gruesome image flashed out above them in a hologram originating from the woman's desk.
For a few seconds, Weiss forgot to take down what she was looking at.
"My name is Mya Khailesh, and I've been a field medic for about… hm, three years? I ran field hospitals during the Clone Wars, and was practicing for a few years before then. I've seen a few things in my time, but that:" Mya pointed up at the gruesome image projected in the air, "Isn't even close to the nastiest stuff I've seen in my time."
A few students made gagging noises around her, and Weiss' eyes involuntarily burned the image into her mind.
The trooper in question had had his legs blown clean off, nowhere to be seen in the picture. His chest armor was blown to bits, his jumpsuit clearly visible underneath it, with a visible chunk going straight through his shoulder. Buried in his stomach was a rock, though how deep or how big it was was unclear due to the dark clothing and the blood.
And gods was there a ton of it.
The image held for a couple seconds before she saw the man's left arm start twitching.
Oh dear, he was still alive!
Some shapes kicked up gravel around him, and though there was no sound Weiss could clearly see blasters being fired as a trooper pushed the hovering camera out of the way and dove for the injured man.
The drone, or whatever it was, gently floated around the duo and to the other side, where it could clearly film everything the medic had to do. The first thing he did was pour out some ice blue gel onto the stumps of the man's legs. Even with no sound, she could hear the injured man scream in her mind as he thrashed around. A second trooper ran in and held him down, as the other got back to work.
He placed one hand on his patients chest, while he gripped another around the shrapnel in his stomach. With one smooth move, he pulled the debris out and tossed it to the side, even as his aide handed him a wad of bandages. Weiss watched in rapt amazement on how the two were going to keep this man alive, despite how unsettling the gore was.
The medic, or at least as close as the trio on screen had, waved the bandages away and pulled out a strange zipper-like contraption. Stretching both sides of it out, he attached them to the edges of the gaping wound.
As soon as he placed it, two sets of tiny claws embedded themselves in his skin, latching on tight. The man thrashed again, tearing off his helmet despite the aide's best attempts to stop it. His wild, tear stained eyes horrified Weiss, but she couldn't take her eyes away. A part of her was afraid that this was meant to show the class what not to do, and the fact that she had no idea what they were doing freaked her out.
It was soon made clear what their plan was, however, as the medic pulled up the 'zipper' on the device, automatically pulling the wound together and sewing it shut as it went upwards.
The gaping hole was now a meaty line, no longer the size of her fist.
The two didn't stop, however, as the bandages came back out and were slapped onto the now-fainted man's chest…
Weiss stared with increasing confusion as the men just sat there with their comrade in their arms as they did nothing else to help the man. The piece of armor just sat in his shoulder as the two began checking for a pulse and-
Oh gods, were they going to carry him?!
The action seemed terribly stupid to Weiss, and she felt the uncharacteristic urge to shout at the hologram.
A few seconds later, the duo hoisted him into the air, and the video ended.
The room was silent for a few seconds as Weiss sat back and let out a breath, surprised at how caught up in the video she had been.
"Any questions?" asked Mya, causing Weiss' hand to shoot up instantly. "Ah, yes, you with the white hair."
"Cadet Schnee, and I was wondering why the duo both lifted the man from his wounded position, as well as failed to apply anything to the treated area in order to help it heal."
The teacher raised an eyebrow, before answering, "Well, for the first question, that was due to a counter attack from the pirates whose base they had been raiding. The trooper in question continued to live, though his legs could not be saved. As for the second, Bacta patches are fairly common on the field of battle, and don't require any additional prep." She finished, nodding to Weiss as she tried to casually write down the word "Bacta" before highlighting and underlining the word in her notes.
"Bacta," Mya said, mercifully, "is something of a miracle cure. As you all know," the woman continued without casting so much as a second glance at Weiss, "Bacta is a synthesized bacteria held within a gel that promotes hyper regeneration along all parts of the body. Though almost completely phased out by this point due to Bacta's superiority, its predecessor Kolto can also be applied to injuries should Bacta be unavailable. The abilities of Bacta can stretch from a cut, to a stroke, to regenerating enough tissue in order for the patient to be fitted with a cybernetic prosthetic."
Weiss was furiously tapping in the information when the image on the hologram changed, this time to a man opening and closing an openly bared cybernetic.
"These replacement parts are easy to maintain, and highly responsive. Some say their new arm is better than the old, while others vehemently disagree. Regardless, the fact of the matter is that it is still entirely dependent on battery power, and will require regular recharges every few days. Should any of your comrades, or heaven forbid yourselves, be given a prosthetic, it will be in your best interest to make sure its batteries are charged before being deployed. After all, you never know when a short mission can stretch from a few hours to days."
Weiss' fingers never stopped typing the information into her data pad, though admittedly the cybernetics of the Empire seemed to be on the same level as those of Remnant. Having lived in Atlas most of her life, the topic had been explained to her more than once. In fact, it was second only to Dust for its importance to the city.
However, the next image on the screen nearly made Weiss' eyes fly out of their sockets. The picture was an entire arm floating in a tank, several tubes feeding out of it as a scientist ran tests on the limb.
"The alternative to cybernetics is, as we all know, cloning technology. A cloned arm is almost always better than a cybernetic one, aside from the need to rebuild muscle memory within it."
Weiss was about to raise her hand to ask about why this wasn't the standard practice, but Mya's next words not only answered that question, but crushed Weiss' spirits as well.
"Unfortunately, the process is both highly expensive to produce specific limbs or organs with as well as dangerous to proceed with. The attachment of the limb is often difficult or inaccurate, despite the steady hands of droids. The human body is simply much more difficult to aid with a copy than a replacement," Mya explained. "And lastly, it's illegal on most Imperial worlds due to the atrocities committed by the Republic during the Clone Wars. Emperor Palpatine was forced to allow cloning in those drastic times, but with peace in the galaxy he has often stated that we must learn from the mistakes of the past. As such, cloning is only to be permitted in very specific circumstances."
"I would just like to remind those present, that this does not mean you should show any disrespect to your clone commanders, sergeants or even fellow troopers. Though they age at more than twice the speed of normal humans, they still possess great valour and ability."
Weiss' hand had stopped tapping away at her datapad, too bummed out at the idea that civilisation could have such mind boggling technology at their fingertips and simply not grab it! Many wars had been fought with rifles and swords, but that didn't mean a people simply stopped using them.
Absently she typed the words "clone" and "clone wars" into her datapad as the hologram closed and Mya set out a rather large datapad on her desk. Hopefully these searches would yield a bit more information than those in her earlier searches.
"Before I continue," said Mya, "I would just like to inform those who are interested in specializing in medical treatment in the field that if they so wish, they can apply to join the Medics through this datapad I have laid out on my desk."
Slamming a standard issue utility belt on her desk, the veteran medic beamed at the class. "Now then, in each belt you will have a first aid kit containing a set of painkillers, three bacta patches and a single zip-stitch, as well as some multipurpose cleaning rags. I'll go over how each of them is to be used and how they work, and then we can practice on some test dummies. Though," she added with a laugh, "let's not have you practice on each other just yet!"
Weiss laughed too, if not for the underlying unease that if these oafs weren't listening and she got injured…
Well… she would just have to pay extra attention in that case.
'The Administrative Building?'
Weiss looked down at her class schedule again. This was the place. She started heading for the giant building's central steps. They led to an entrance patio with series of doors at the far end. Above them, a massive engraving of the Imperial roundel served as the structure's main facade. She noticed the roundel was over almost everything. Over every building, every classroom.
Over the entire galaxy.
She wasn't blind. She still barely knew this galaxy, but she could tell the Empire was, at best, rather militarized and nationalistic. The name "Galactic Empire" somewhat gave it away, too. A part of it was easy, even comforting, for her to adapt to, because it was like Atlas. The military, the technology, the efficient, monochromatic color scheme. But Atlas was never ultranationalist.
Atlesians did look down on the other Kingdoms, and could be stuck up, but they didn't drown themselves in propaganda. The Galactic Empire seemed to believe it was the greatest thing ever created, and expected everyone else to think the same.
Case in point, the class she was headed to: "Political Education." Before the Great War on Remnant, Mantle and Mistral had run similar sounding programs to indoctrinate their citizens. Weiss wondered if this would be similar.
She wandered around the various hallways, determined not to ask for help, until she found the classroom. She had taken so long to find it that it was almost time to begin, so she slipped in and took a seat along with other students. It was a small room, with only six or seven rows of desks for students. As one entered through the door, the first thing they saw was the large desk at the front of the room for the instructor.
For a while, no instructor came. The small classroom filled, and they began to talk amongst themselves. Weiss didn't know anyone, and kept to herself.
Then the door opened, and two people walked in. They wore Imperial officer uniforms, but all black rather than matte green. Shined black boots, belts, and caps completed the attire.
The first, a brown skinned woman with puffy hair that fell along the sides of her head like a cobra's flaps, ignored the instructor's desk and walked straight to the other side, where she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. The second was an older, paler man, with a confident gait. He walked to the front of the desk and pushed himself on to it, then crossed his legs and clasped his hands in his lap.
He smiled and ran his deep set eyes over the cadets before him, without moving his head. He had deep set, cruel eyes and seemed to always wear a slight grin. He was rather unnerving.
"I'm from Imperial Intelligence," he said bluntly. "You can call me Shaveen. Today we're going to talk about some very important subjects." He cocked his head curiously. "Why are you here?"
The question was aimed at no one in particular, so the class exchanged nervous glances with one another.
He raised his hand, with his forefinger pointing skywards. He moved it back and forth, scanning the class, and then lowered his finger towards someone in the second row.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
The cadet scratched his shoulder. "T-to be a Stormtrooper? To serve the Empire."
"Why?"
The cadet took a breath, and grew more confident. "To preserve the New Order."
"And what is the New Order?"
"The...well, the Empire. The system we have in place."
"System? Tell me what system this is."
The cadet stopped to think carefully this time. "Humanity," he said, with a tinge of gravity and epiphany in his voice.
Shaveen smiled. After a long pause, he rose to his feet and moved behind the desk.
"I'm going to go over a bit about this galaxy with you. For some of you, this will be new and unwelcome. For others, merely an unpleasant reminder. But for all of you, it will be galvanizing."
Sheevan looked down and typed on some unseen keyboard. The student's desks hummed into life, revealing holographic screens on their surfaces. The blue screens stayed in place against the desk face playing static for a few seconds, as if compiling themselves, and then slid vertically up to hover in front of each student's face at a slight angle.
A video came up. It was brightly colored and had no tint or opacity, though the border around it remained transparent blue. Above, the room's lights dimmed.
It was hard to see what was going on. The video was footage from a camera or some other device mounted in the corner of a oddly shaped room with a dirt floor and odd equipment on the far side. Eventually, movement came - first a droid (Weiss was proud of herself for remembering the term) and then some humans, almost naked, and then...a grostique worm, larger than any human and wearing a crown.
The group moved to the machinery, partially disappearing from view, and did something Weiss couldn't see. After a short time the video switched to another view, this one directly in front of the machinery.
The machine in question was a large rectangular frame, with metal objects hanging from the top and large pads on the bottom. One of the humans had been tied to the frame, and Weiss could now see he was quite scarred.
"This device is designed for tormenting droids and automations," Shaveen voiced. "But you will see the Hutts have found it works for humans just as well."
The machine's lower pads extended to meet the man's bare feet, and then apparently begin electrocuting him in short bursts. Each time he shook violently, and the electricity left his body in lightning that ripped out of his sides to the metal rods hanging from the top.
As shocking as the scene was, the sound was worse. He screamed and pleaded, to no avail, and each time the machine activated it made a screeching sound that mixed with throes of frying flesh. This was in turn followed by a fading sizzle, like a frying pan.
Weiss closed her eyes and lowered her head, grimacing hard as if it would prevent her from hearing.
"Eyes up!" Shaveen pronounced loudly. "Watch it, all of you!"
Weiss took a quick glance around to see many others looking up from their own dazes. Hesitantly, she turned back to the screen. The torture continued until the man didn't scream anymore, and then his captors took him off the frame and begin to tie the next human, a young woman, to it.
They didn't see any of her suffering. The video changed to a village in an evening forest, with flashes of bright led occurring all around. Weiss recognized them as blaster fire.
The video angle changed repeatedly, showing what was apparently an attack. Odd soldiers, thin things with narrow, curved heads, marched into the village, while insect like vehicles with two large hoop wheels fired rockets from the outskirts.
There was little resistance: a few shots fired from windows here and there, but nothing to truly oppose the attackers. The video kept changing angles to follow the fighting, apparently composed from quite a few cameras scattered around. As the mechanical fighters closed in, it become clear their targets were mostly panicking civilians.
Although the attack was mechanical and efficient as a whole, the video showed the grisly side. The odd soldiers - droids themselves - broke into thatchwork homes and thoughtless executed all within. The killing was mostly off screen and by blaster, though the screams and sounds of panic and war provided more than enough tension.
Then the video switched to a view looking at a small home from the inside. A baby was crying in the near view, mostly out of the scene, and a single window and door were on the other. Although the attack could be seen and heard from the window, for a while nothing happened inside the cabin to justify the video's choice.
Then, quite suddenly, the door flew off the hinges and to the ground. A hulking droid stepped inside, painted factory grey and with its left arm held up. It had no neck or head; its broad shoulders simply met each other after sloping up from its arms.
A screaming woman ran into the video, barging at the droid. She pressed against it, trying to hit or push it away hysterically. She had no chance, the war droid was more than a head taller than she and far bulkier.
The automation couldn't use its blaster at this range, so it lifted its left arm into the air and then slammed its elbow into the woman's shoulder. She had being straightened and leaning slightly back, with her spine and legs aligned upright. The force of the blow shoving down into her visibly buckled her spinal cord before it sent her to the floor.
The droid fired into her body, and then the baby screamed. The droid looked toward the sound. The video cut out.
Ahead of her, an older student - at least a decade older than Weiss - was almost quivering. "Separatists," he muttered. His voice was trembling with hatred.
The next video featured a mining scene where insectoid creatures tormented human slaves. It was followed by more similar. All of the videos featured the same scenario - humans being brutalized or murdered by aliens or their extensions.
The procession was gory and numbing, and Weiss started to drift away to just block it out. From the corner of her eye she noticed the video changed to yet a new scene, but she didn't put any effort to analyze it. A group of humanoids were sitting in a circle a distance from the camera. The scene played for several seconds before she heard the guttural voices and grunts of the creatures in it. They sounded familiar.
The screen zoomed into one of them, and Weiss suddenly snapped to attention. It was a reptilian creature with an ugly snout and bulging eyes. The same creatures that had kidnapped her.
She felt the color leaving her face, but she didn't care. She stared at the screen. The creatures were laughing and and jousting with each other, apparently gambling in the middle. When the game concluded, one of them stood up and walked under the view. When it returned, it was carrying a human kicking and fighting, to avail. The beast jerked its claw along her stomach to silence her, leaving gashes large enough to make out that she clutched at.
When it approached, another creature rose and walked off camera with the first, while the rest watched intently. There was terrible screaming for a few seconds, and then the creatures burst into laughter. The video continued for another minute of their bliss.
There were a few more scenes with the same playbook, but Weiss stop registering them.
Finally, the video ended, the student's hologram's disappeared, and the lights returned to full strength.
Taking deep breaths, Weiss looked around her. Some of the other students were in similar states of shock. Most were not. Most of them were angry. Very angry.
Shaveen stood up and stood in front of the desk. "Those were your families. Your mothers and fathers, your cousins and children. That is why you are here."
He folded his hands into an arch with the fingertips meeting, and begin to slowly pace.
"Non-humans are treacherous, brutal creatures - or devious and cunning ones. Make no mistake, what you saw is how they would treat us everywhere if they ruled over us. That is why the Empire exists. The Empire guarantees peace and some degree of civility throughout the galaxy, but most importantly, it guarantees us."
The woman in the back spoke up. "Some say the Empire relies on fear and hate, using them as gimmicks. That we use propaganda to divide and control. That we silence dissent not because it is dangerous, but merely because we can. But you have all seen how non-humans treat us, and the Clone Wars taught everyone what anarchy and chaos brings."
"But why not question the premise itself?" Shaveen added. "The say we rely on fear to rally support. That fear of non-humans, fear of being overthrown and massacred is so nonsensical. But what's wrong with fear?"
He looked around the room inquisitively, although didn't seem to expect a response.
"We are realists. If we wanted to glorify humanity, to make ourselves out as superior beings who are above the rest, we would lie. The truth is grim and frightful - we're dreadfully outclassed. Most of the species you just watched tormenting humans are far stronger and more physically capable than we are. Some, like the Bith, are far more intelligent. Others are naturally driven to engineering feats or technological brilliance. Some live much longer then we do, and that translates into more experience and cunning. It has been said our only advantage is how average we really are."
"So what's wrong with fear? And by the corollary, what's wrong with pride? Pride that in such a cruel, inhospitable, overwhelming world, we not only survive, we thrive. We rule."
Once more, his female companion spoke. "There are those - humans, among us - who stand against the New Order. Radicals, opportunists, so called 'intellectuals,' even senators on Coruscant. They come from all walks of life, but their ideas are the same. They want the destruction of the New Order. Some of them have no loyalty to their species; they pity non-humans and want to give them special privileges and rights. Others take offense to the Empire's efficient structure and might, and want a disorganized democratic or communal system - the same kind that nearly led us to disaster in the Clone Wars. All of them are traitors: enemies of the Empire, enemies of humanity."
"But to address their treachery," Shaveen opened, "you must understand them. The ones who sympathize with non-humans are simplistic enough. They've lived under the protection of wealth and stability - both provided by the Empire - and never dealt with the true face of non-humans. As for those who criticize our form and style of rule, they are usually idealists who can't appreciate the necessity and beauty of absolute power. They have nothing to offer or contribute but their own existence, so they opine they should have a say in government just because they exist."
Shaveen paused and looked intently at the floor, seeming to mumble to himself.
"The others...are more difficult." He looked up slowly, making a wide sweep of the class with his eyes. "There are those who have a problem with nature itself."
He allowed his body to relax, rested his hands behind his back, and took a deep breath.
"Some people don't believe humans should rule. They don't believe we have the right to. Every empire, every species, throughout history has advocated for themselves. They have lived and died on the altar of species nationalism, and indeed those that rejected this concept simply died earlier than their peers. If humanity wants to survive, much less thrive, we must champion our own cause. And our cause may very well extend to the entire galaxy, if we so please."
"When it comes down to it, we rule because we can. Don't feel ashamed of that. Don't try to cover it up or make it seem more elegant or enlightened then it is. We rule because we are stronger than others, and the strong rule. And while the Empire may not be democratic and fair to every species, rest assured the galaxy itself is - if the tables turned, humanity would be consigned to slavery or worse by some cruel and unhindered victor."
"Idealists and childlike people don't like this. They don't think we should rule over anyone else, and perhaps not even over ourselves. They want us to share power with the same non-humans and traitors who would see us wiped out, because they think this is kind or moral."
Sheevan smiled darkly. "But only the strong rule." He looked admiringly at the shining Imperial Roundel that graced the front of the room, seeming to bask in it like an ideological sun. "Because only the strong deserve to."
Two pale blue eyes slid open in the complete darkness of the barracks, roving between each bunk and their inhabitants. Each head snored peacefully on, exhausted with the day's many trials. Careful not to rouse them from their bliss, two slender pale legs slid out from beneath their sheets, silently pushing themselves onto the hard metal floor. Weiss reached below her bed and drew out the small knapsack she'd been given on the ship. Not trusting herself to be silent with footgear, all Weiss could do was grimace as the tiptoed across the cold floor.
The door separating them from the men slid open with a barely audible hiss. Or at least, it seemed silent with the continuous rattling of the cooling units. She moved through the massive male dormitories like a ghost, only a few distant lights were visible, mostly hidden under bed sheets. Most were calling or messaging their families, some no doubt regretting their decision to join the corps.
Weiss shook the thoughts from her head, not finding much sympathy for those who chose this life when she never had any other option. Following the small gently pulsing red emergency lights along the ground, Weiss made her way to the far end of the room, clutching her bag to her chest.
Making her way out of the room with only a few sleepers rustling their sheets in annoyance at the noise, Weiss crept out into the hallway. The signs were all thankfully in Vytalese, or as the greater galaxy apparently referred to it: Basic.
The soft padding of her feet was the only noise as she virtually stalked down the halls, eyes flickering behind her constantly as she pushed forwards.
Her heart almost slammed out of her chest when she heard the loud crackle of a stormtroopers comms activating, his scrambled voice breaking the silence of the halls. The loud stepping of twin boots snapped her out of her daze, and she threw herself behind a corner as two troopers made their way down the hall.
"Hear about those new E-10's that are coming out?" came the garbled voice of one trooper as they walked past her, casually strolling and not really looking around as they patrolled.
"Yeah, i'm a big fan of the variables on the stun settings. Seems a bit less accurate than the E-9's though."
"Pft. As if. I think you're just paranoid that your blasters the only reason you can't hit squat…"
Their voices trailed off, and only once they were completely out of earshot did Weiss release the breath she had been holding. Stepping out from her hiding spot, she quickly made her way down the halls, keeping an eye out for any footfalls.
Thankfully, she faced none as she finally made her way to her destination. Thumbing the activation key, the door opened without issue, blasting Weiss with a gust of fresh air. She breathed in deeply as she hopped down the steps before her, exiting into a wide and empty parade ground.
This area was in the centre of the compound, completely empty and mostly serving to led into other areas. But those required key-cards and access codes she didn't have, and she doubted anyone else would.
After all, if someone broke in and already made it this far, why would they go into an open space?
Weiss made it to one corner of the massive square, the duracrete beneath her foot slightly pinching her skin. Reaching into her knapsack, Weiss pulled out her hated boots and skin tight jumpsuit. After weighing the pros and cons of getting changed in the middle of an open air military compound, Weiss shoved the jumpsuit back into her bag, and opted to stay in her civilian clothes that doubled as sleep attire.
After performing some basic stretches, Weiss wormed her feet into the uncomfortable boots, tying them as tightly as she possibly could. After her first few failed attempts, she tried to recall how Yang used to tie hers. A hazy memory at best produced a roughshod imitation of the knots, but Yang's were far more sturdy than her own attempt.
Hopping from one foot to the other, Weiss reached back and made sure her hair was in as tight a ponytail as possible before reaching back into her bag one final time and retrieving some small weights she had managed to pocket on her way out of the weight room. Though not massive things by any means, or any real trouble for Weiss on an average day, the weights would still aid her if she worked far harder with them than usual.
Gripping one in each hand until her knuckles turned white, Weiss tried to position herself like she remembered Ruby would, placing her arms at almost ninety degree angles at each side of her torso. She tried to picture how Ruby would make her way across this turf, swinging her boots and almost letting them do the walking for her.
With a deep breath and a shake of her head, Weiss began to run, thinking about the wide galaxy above her as she struggled for strength.