Wed Feb 22, 2012 6:02 pm by Dragg'rim'muro
*The Library was silent, its many bookshelves bathed in a dull blue light cast by the sheets of ever-frozen ice. There were very few visitors to the library who weren't there because they were supposed to be - librarians, technicians, the occasional CEDF cadet brushing up for his next exam - Dragg'rim'muro preferred it this way. He was comfortable in the cold silence; he was used to isolation.
Dragg'rim'muro, known to most by his core name Grimm, was no ordinary Chiss. Csilla often boasts that over 90% of their population has given over a year of military service - Grimm was part of the 10% minority. It was true that he had enlisted in the CEDF, and it was true that he had gone through basic training, but Grimm didn't last even a year in the field. While fighting with the Fleet, Grimm fell victim to a then unknown disease, later proved to be nonlethal. Nevertheless, Grimm was released from duty and sent back to Csilla to recover. He never returned.
With a sigh, Grimm put the volume he was reading back on the table, finding himself unable to concentrate. Thias was one of his favorite authors, yes, but the weight of his own life story had recently taken its toll on the young Chiss. He recalled memories of the most famous Chiss of them all - the exiled Grand Admiral Thrawn. While most Chiss looked upon Thrawn as a sore memory, Grimm viewed him as something of a tragic hero. The atrocities that he committed near the end of his career in the Empire were due only to the CEDF's own ignorance at what a military genius Thrawn really was. Truly, Grimm viewed him as someone to aspire to be.
These thoughts of a legendary legacy could only be gained through military experience; something Grimm had just recently come to realize. This is why for the past few months, he had been drawn to the tomes of long dead Chiss strategists and heads-of-state. While all of them each contributed something of their own to Chiss society, there was one common thread that connected them all - they were each extremely well known in the ranks of the CEDF. If Grimm was to have any sort of legacy himself, he would need to regain his military honor. And at 22 years of age, there wasn't much time left before he was past his fighting prime.
Grimm slowly rose from his seat, shelving Thias' On the Lehon Campaign and its Aftermath. As he did so, the Chiss couldn't help but catch a glimpse of his reflection on the smooth, icy bookshelf. Taking in a breath, Grimm straightened himself up, brushed off his old uniform, and ran a quick hand through his pitch black hair. Nodding to himself, he turned around, heading towards the CEDF base. If one was looking, they could have sworn that there was a hint of a smirk framing his lips.*