****** This takes place after the events of the <a href = http://www.swforums.net/forum/showth...895#post177895>Voices from the Past</a> thread ******
The Empire's headquarters was alive with activity, people scurrying throughout the maze like hallways, combatants fighting viciously for their honor in both the training chambers and the simulators. Tucked away in one corner of the headquarters, one soul grew resltess, pacing back and forth in his room, contemplating his actions, and what course of action he would now take with recent events.
The shirtless figure stopped to look at himself in the mirror. His hands were clenched so tight, his knuckles were white, and his arms were flexing their muscles. His body had regained most of the muscle it had lost during his troubled period. NO longer was he lean and small. His chisled physique was one of the lone things he was proud of, however that same physique still bore the telltale sign of needles in his arms. Before he was ashamed of this, and had not wanted anyone to know about his addiction, now though, things had changed. He did not care who knew, and relished the fact that people knew. For in his mind it was a symbol of strenght that he could overcome the drug and still perform at his peak. That line of thinking was a good example of the current state of mind he had.
The reflection in the mirror smiled back at Laran as he continued to flex his new figure. And that's when a light went off in his head. With a quick glance to his bed, he located his lightsaber and grabbed it, holding it tightly. With the force, he opened up his door and strode out of his room quickly, making his way to the council room chambers
Comment