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This is the place to post stories you have written about your character's timeskip; what happened to them in the five years between the fall of the Gav Daragon and the rise of the Empress Teta.

TOPIC: Dyston's Timeskip

Dyston's Timeskip 1 year 10 months ago #15599

  • Dyston
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Republic Naval Acquisitions Testing Facility - [Classified].

+8 months after reassignment.
+5 months after Zakuul Invasion.

Petty Officer Tom Dyston sat quietly at a messy workbench, its surface strewn with schematic drawings and various pieces of equipment, his hands were grasped around a single sheet of schematic paper, his gaze affixed. The area around the solitary figure looked more like the aftermath of an explosion rather than an advanced military testing facility. The rest of the lab area was pristine, with everything stowed neatly away as Naval discipline would require.

Fading orange light streamed in through the lab’s windows, the sun was slowly setting on the base and the day drawing to a close. But Dyston remained still, continuing with his thoughtful examination without taking notice, the work area bathed in bright artificial light.

With an exhale Dyston set down the schematic over the inert components of a disassembled engine coolant coil as he leant forward and rested his head in his hands.

“Hard at work, ey boss?” Rang out an amused voice from the door to the lab. Dyston grimaced, looking up toward the newcomer.

“Corporal.” He stated simply, as he allowed his gaze to rest upon the approaching figure. Clad in the same simple military fatigues as Dyston, the Corporal stood just a little taller, but not as stocky as the Naval Engineer. Corporal Byron, one of Dyston’s four team members.

“Have you finished the feedback analysis from those prototype blasters yet? CO wants them by 13:00 tomorrow.” The Corporal asked as he strolled up to the laden workbench.

Dyston gestures with one hand towards a bound file rested on the edge of the workbench, his expression one of distaste. His team members had hardly helped with any of the projects that had passed through in the past few months. Dyston was fairly convinced that he’d been assigned the worst personnel in the entire Division.

The Alisandor Campaign, a slog through literal and political minefields, that’s how Dyston ended up assigned here. The Chemical Dispersal Device, a useful side project to help with the campaign, nothing more, so Dyston thought. The Brass caught wind of it and decided they needed a non-commissioned officer with an eye for technology and experience in the field deployed elsewhere. It wasn’t Dyston’s choice of assignment, far from it. The Gav Daragon had been his home, its crew his family and friends. Instead he’d found himself assigned to the Naval Acquisitions Division, shipped off so fast he hadn’t even been given the opportunity to say goodbye to his friends and colleagues.

“It’s all there. They’re good. We should push them for next stage testing and financial analysis.” Dyston replied, watching Byron closely as the Corporal shifted through some of the schematics on the workbench. With a tilt of his head Byron casually brushed aside some of the schematics, including the one Dyston had been working on, knocking them onto the floor as he picked up one of the buried papers.

The Corporal scoffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he looked up at Dyston, a construction schematic of the Gav Daragon in his hands.

“C’mon boss, you still working on this crap? It's been two months. It was just battle damage, you're not going to find anything.”

“Maybe, maybe not… You gunna pick them up?” Dyston said, nodding to the schematics on the floor.

Byron scoffed, casually throwing the Gav Daragon schematic onto the workbench before reaching down, grabbing the fallen papers which he then slung nonchalantly onto the bench as well.

“Pft, I’m gunna knock off for the day. Try not to have too much fun chasing your ghosts.” The Corporal waved a hand dismissively as he turned, heading out of the room.

Dyston’s gaze lingered on the door for a few minutes after Byron’s departure. He couldn’t expect the Corporal to understand. Not the pain, the emptiness, the guilt.

“I should have been there.” Dyston uttered under his breath, his gaze turning back to the workbench as he shuffles through the various schematics to grasp at the one he was intently examining prior to the interruption. With a frown he straightens out one of the bent edges of the paper, revealing the title, ‘SCHEMATIC: VALOR CLASS CRUISER PRIMARY HYPERDRIVE COOLANT SYSTEM’.
Last Edit: 1 year 10 months ago by Dyston.
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Dyston's Timeskip 1 year 10 months ago #15605

  • Dyston
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Chapter 1

Enroute to Republic Naval Acquisitions Testing Facility – [Classified].

+6 months after Zakuul Invasion.

The shuttle began to rattle as it hit the atmosphere, the noise of the hull shaking waking Dyston from his reverie. As he blinked his weary eyes open he scanned the rear compartment of the transport shuttle, his team were strapped into their flight chairs, all of them still asleep from the long flight. Dyston shuffled in his chair, stretching as much as possible within the constraints of the flight harness. The securing cables and webbing on the equipment tethered in the middle of the deck groaned with the force of the atmospheric entry, his team slumbering through the sounds after the exhaustion of the past few days.

Dyston grimaced at the thought of the last few days. A sequence of failed, time-consuming tests. The equipment that was tethered before him on the deck constituted millions of credit’s worth of failure. As he leant forward Dyston rested his head in his hands, he had to figure out a way to explain this to his CO.

“Ten minutes out.” The tannoy cracked into life with the Flight Officer’s voice, the volume cutting over the din of the shuttle’s entry. Dyston peered up from his hands before leaning to one side and tapping the figure to his side, putting his own fatigue to one side.

“Corporal. Hey, Byron. Wake up. We’re almost back.” Dyston then turned to glance at the two sat opposite, only just visible over the equipment, “Look alive people, touch down in ten!”

Dyston leant back, tilting himself to peer out of a small view port in the side of the shuttle as his team slowly began to wake from their slumber. The shuttle soared in low over the mountain range north of the testing facility, the propulsion wake shook some of the snow from the caps. As the shuttle began to take on the final vector for landing the facility lights became visible on the flat plane below the peaks.

Communication streamed between the control tower and the approaching transport shuttle, authentication codes were checked and then computer verified before the perimeter air defences were disengaged from the target lock they’d been holding since the shuttle initially entered the atmosphere. The facility’s defence systems were advanced enough to hold back any Imperial incursion, but with the looming threat of the Eternal Empire and their Fleet everyone had been on edge for months.

That was the reason behind the piece of new tech Dyston’s team had been assigned to test. The Admiralty was well aware that conventional military technology was nigh on useless against the Eternal Fleet so had begun making in-roads into concentrated EMP weapons. Overall the aim of the project was to create a weaponised pulse that could disable one or more Eternal Fleet Battlecruisers with a single shot. The outcome, after months of research, design, manufacture and millions of credits, was a highly sophisticated, but ultimately useless complex array of generators, coils, wires and plating.


Republic Naval Acquisitions Testing Facility – [Classified].

20 Minutes Later

“Three days,” spoke the crisply uniformed figure, his back turned to Dyston, hands clasped firmly behind his back. The man stood staring out of a window overlooking the facility, set behind a large quasiwood desk. Traditionalist is the word that came to Dyston’s mind, old fashioned to others. The epaulettes on the uniformed man’s shoulders flickered beneath the bright light of the office, the rank of ‘Commander’ brightly emblazoned in silver and gold. William Mingori had been the CO of the Naval Acquisitions Division for almost decade, his name was legendary amongst some naval circles, most of the Navy’s technological innovations were implemented thanks to his sheer force of will.

“I give you and your team a simple assignment. Initial testing. It takes you three days, and you come back with this?” The Commander turned, gesturing toward a bound file set on the pristine surface of the wooden desk. “The equipment performed exceptionally in all our modelling and projections,” continued Commander Mingori, as he began pacing behind the desk. “You helped run the simulations yourself, it was due to the results of one of your reports that we moved the testing up to this stage. The Admiralty is down my throat about this project. Excessive running costs, missed deadlines. They wanted this operational now. And this is all I have to take back to them? Another failure.”

Dyston opened his mouth to reply, but was cut short as Commander Mingori stopped pacing and turned to face him. The Commander rested his hands onto the desk, glancing at the report, then again to Dyston. “Petty Officer, you’ve been a valuable asset since you were first assigned here. But I think I know why this project is off track. You’ve been distracted, off your game. Corporal Byron, your second in command, states in several of his official reports and logs that you’ve been pouring over the Gav Daragon data and schematics ever since the incident. He believes it is effecting your performance.”

‘Bastard’, thought Dyston as his lips tightened and his gaze hardened. Byron had always been trouble. Lazy, incompetent and all around unpleasant. He’d only made it through the last year within the Acquisitions Division because Dyston had carried him through, covering for his mistakes. Dyston had never taken on-duty time to study the Gav Daragon data, it had all been in his own time and Byron had sold him out.

“You’ve allowed your side project to take precedence over your duty. Now it’s reflecting badly on me and the Division as a whole. I’m afraid you’ve left me with no choice. I’m going to temporarily reassign you elsewhere within Acquisitions until you can get your head straight. Pack your gear, you’re heading to Coruscant to join our administrative liaison team within the Admiralty for the next six months. Maybe then you’ll get a clear picture of the crap the Admiralty dumps on my desk and why I can’t afford to have non-commissioned officers like you fooling around with personal projects. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Dyston knew it was pointless to argue, to put up a fight. Commander Mingori had made up his mind, it was well known within Acquisitions that it was pointless to argue against the man.

Through gritted teeth Dyston replied, “Who’ll be taking command of my team during my reassignment, sir?”

“Corporal Byron has proven quite capable whilst under your command. He’ll be taking temporary command of your team.”

Dyston opened his mouth to protest, but the Commander held up a hand to cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it, Petty Officer. I’ve made my decision. Your shuttle leaves at twenty-two hundred hours. You’re dismissed.”
Last Edit: 1 year 10 months ago by Dyston.
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Dyston's Timeskip 1 year 10 months ago #15613

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Chapter 2

Location: Admiralty Plaza – Coruscant - Corusca Sector - Core Worlds.

Time: +9 Months after Zakuul Invasion

The crowd took another tentative step forward, the mass of uniformed and non-uniformed figures stuck in single file within the confines of two pulsing crowd barriers. The few first timers to the Admiralty grumbled, muttering about pointless security features and bureaucracy, the rest stood patiently in silence. To one side two fully armoured marines patrolled, their bulky Virtus Assault Armour pristine white against the relative grey of the Plaza, S-311 rifles gripped tightly in their gauntlets as their helmeted gaze passed over the queue.

From within the line Dyston watched the marines pass by, their patrol route taking them further down the Admiralty staff queue. The sight of them bought a whole host of memories flooding back. Dyston swallowed, his throat dry with the thought of friends and colleagues all of whom he’d not seen in more than a year. As his thoughts drifted to the past the queue continued to shuffle forward, Dyston moving with the flow of Admiralty staff making their way to their duty stations.

A marine clad in his action working uniform waved Dyston forward as he reached the security barrier, snapping the young engineer from his train of thought. With a nod Dyston stepped forward, grasping at the clasp of his shoulder holstered service sidearm, setting it into a tray to one side. After another moment of fiddling Dyston pulled free his belt, setting it alongside his holster within the tray. With a grimace Dyston stepped up to the scanner, shaking his head as he prepared to step through. So began the usual daily routine.

The scanner blared out an alarm as Dyston stepped through, causing Dyston to exhale with frustration. He’d petitioned to be issued with an exemption pass, but even after three months he’d yet to be issued with one.

“Petty Officer.” Stated the marine Sergeant on duty behind the scanner, in a gruff, serious voice. He waved Dyston over with a single nod, a handheld scanner in the marine’s hand.

“Sergeant.” Replied Dyston, preparing for the daily ritual he and the Sergeant had been sharing since Dyston was reassigned to the Admiralty.

The bald marine NCO passed the scanner over Dyston’s uniform as Dyston spread his arms and legs, the handheld scanner silent until passed over the naval engineer’s right leg. With a roll of his eyes Dyston removed his ID badge, offering it to the marine. The Sergeant stood up, accepting the ID badge. Despite having looked at it countless times the Sergeant’s cold gaze scrutinised it in careful detail before staring Dyston straight in the eyes. He then began with the set questioning he’d been using almost every day for the last three months, still managing to do so with complete sincerity.

“Has there been any occasion where another individual could have interfered with your cybernetic?”


“Is the equipment in the tray your own, and has there been any occasion when someone could have tampered with it?”

“It is, and no.”

“Has anyone given you anything to take into the building today?”


The marine NCO nodded once as he offered back the ID badge, “Alright. You’re cleared for entry.”

Dyston chuckled, the comedic value of the repetitive situation never failing to amuse him as he clipped his ID badge back into place. “Thanks Sergeant.”

Location: Office of Naval Acquisitions - Admiralty Plaza – Coruscant - Corusca Sector - Core Worlds.

15 Minutes Later

After recovering his belt and service sidearm and meandering through busy corridors, saluting passing officers and inputting security keys Dyston finally made it into the Acquisitions office. The sliding doors hissed closed behind him as he peered around his duty station. Stacks of files littered several of his colleague’s desks, petitions and requests for varying pieces of equipment to be put into general circulation as standard issue, demands from field officers and ship captains desperate for new equipment and technologies to stem the tide in the conflicts between both the Imperials and the Eternal Empire. Things weren’t looking good for the war effort, that much was clear even from behind a desk sat deep in the Core Worlds.

As Dyston sat himself down at his own desk he slid his comm-piece into his ear. As his console booted up he activated the office communication system, “Mornin’ Sophia, what’ve you got for me today then?”

Within a moment the voice of the office’s civilian secretary cut back through the comm-system, “Petty Officer, good morning. Nothing other than the usual, lots of equipment requests and proposals. Oh… Actually I did flag one thing for you, I thought you might find it… interesting.”

“Heh, this better not be another of those male surgical enhancement spam-messages like the one you forwarded me last month.”

Dyston tapped on his console interface, scrolling through the various requests and proposals before reaching the flagged message. With a quirked brow he opened it up, leaning forward as he read the message.

“Huh… actually, this is brilliant… Cheers Sophia.”

Dyston pulled his comm-piece free, pushing himself to his feet as he made his way across the office floor towards his CO’s door. With a quick tap on the door a voice called from within, “Enter.”

As Dyston pulled open the door the Lieutenant looked up from his own work. The young butter-bar officer had been placed in command of the Acquisitions office as his first assignment, he was one of the few people Dyston had served with that was younger than him. But the Lieutenant was well liked within the office, he had a good temperament and a solid work ethic.

“Ah, Mister Dyston! Come on in. Take a seat.” As Dyston closed the door and sat himself down in a chair opposite, the Lieutenant put aside his datapad. “What can I do for you then?”

“Morning El Tee. Sorry to be a pain, I’d like to be put forward for this.” Dyston leant forward, offering over his own datapad, the screen displaying the message from earlier.

“Hrm. The 882nd Airborne require additional engineering personnel for their on-going military operations in defence of the Republic against the Empire of Zakuul.” The Lieutenant said as he read aloud, he paused before looking up at Dyston. “The request comes directly from Master-General Rasheke Mobius, the 882nd’s commander... You want to get out there, I suppose?”

“Yes sir. My assignment to Acquisitions ain’t ever really been where I wanted to serve. I doubt I’ll be getting back on a ship, not with the way the war’s going, but this is a way out for me. I feel like I’d achieve much more on the front.”

“Who am I to stop a decorated NCO from doing his duty to the Republic, hey? I suppose it’s a tad better than you sitting here in this office on restricted duty. Tell you what, wrap up the project proposal documentation you’re currently sitting on. In the meantime, I’ll push this through for you. Least I can do after you fixed my caf brewer.” The machine sat in the corner of the office, gently and efficiently boiling away, no longer at risk of combusting.

Dyston stood himself up, straightening out his uniform. With a click of his heels he snapped the Lieutenant a sharp salute, “Thank you, sir.”

“Not to worry, Petty Officer. Oh, one more thing. On your way out could you tell Sophia to mind the content of the messages she flags for me. I’ve received some very interesting surgical offers recently…”
Last Edit: 1 year 10 months ago by Dyston.
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