Private Attention on Deck

[Orinn Darge]

Attention on Deck!
Location: Reception Hangar Bay, Mahporeem Imperial Navy Command Ship MIN Tempest
Tag: Captain Charles Ronhar Tane (Also open to MIR members)​

The disciplined precision of a Mahporeem Imperial Remnant ceremony was an intense contrast to the mud and ash 1st Lieutenant Orrin Darge had lived in for the past two months.

Inside the high-ceilinged Reception Hangar of the MIN Tempest, the flagship and dedicated command nest of MSOC Valkyrie, the ambient red operations lighting had been switched to a crisp, clinical white brilliance. Arranged in flawless formation lines along the polished black floorboards were the men of Rampart Platoon. Standing at rigid attention, their signature battleship-gray and field-green Valkyrie armor plates had been meticulously scrubbed of Ruisto's salt and Oricon's volcanic grease, though the deep gouges from enemy slugthrowers and Anooba tusks remained carved into the duraplast as permanent badges of theater survival.

Darge stood at the far end of the formation line, his unhelmeted gaze locked strictly forward. His dark hair was cleanly cropped, his posture unyielding, and his face a mask of grounded, disciplined humility. It would have been the first time some of the new troopers had seen his face.

Before the senior officers at the high podium could transition to the day's primary decree, Ramparts senior NCO initiated the opening sequence of the muster.

"Rampart Platoon, Attention on Deck! Dress the line!" Sergeant Major Hamish Horvath's gravelly voice echoed off the metallic bulkheads, his booming tone as always flat and commanding.

The primary doors opened in a silent hiss. The six Rampart operators who had survived catastrophic trauma during the initial clearing of Ruisto's mountain basin marched into the center of the floor, taking a position just in front of the main platoon. They had been given sufficient time to recover within the flagship's trauma wards, their bodies mended enough to stand on their own. Five of the assaulters bore the heavy synth-flesh mesh of healing shrapnel and blast punctures under their dress tunics. The sixth trooper, whose lower limb had been completely shattered by Anooba jaws, advanced with a steady, deliberate stride—his gait driven by a freshly fitted, high-grade cybernetic leg replacement that whirred softly against the deck.

The room fell into an absolute silence as the citations were read prior to the presentation of the Blood Laurel, the Remnant decoration awarded to soldiers wounded or permanently scarred by direct hostile action in defense of the Empire was carried out.

Orrin watched with quiet, profound pride as the medals were pinned to his men's high-collared dress tunics. His trauma from Capitol Five had left an indelible scar on his psyche; he knew exactly how close these six men had come to leaving their bodies in the ash. Seeing them standing here, stabilized and honored by the high command, was the ultimate validation of the grueling combat doctrine that MSOC Valkyrie had been built to enforce.

As the wounded troopers were guided back to the platoon ranks, the chimes of the tactical table shifted to a low, booming sequence. The central holoscreen updated, displaying the combined operational combat records of the platoon's recent deployments.

"First Lieutenant Darge, front and center!," the master of ceremonies announced.

Snapping to attention, Orrin stepped forward, his dress boots striking the deck in a sharp, automated rhythm before halting exactly three paces from the presentation podium. Following the young officer's valorous success in multiple recent campaigns, his chain of command had seen fit to commend him by meritoriously promoting Darge to the rank of Captain.

Presiding over the official ceremony at the high podium stood a stern, heavily decorated officer from MSOF Command, the Battalion Executive Officer, a high-ranking Major whose uniform was immaculate. Flanking the podium table were the key operational commanders who had traveled to the MIN Tempest to observe the proceedings. To the left stood Captain Ronhar Tane, the veteran Army commander whose mechanized force had decisively ended the chaos on Ruisto. To the right stood Captain Charles, the senior Navy officer whose massive fleet command overrode the entire sector, outranking the presiding Major and Tane alike. Both captains had personally led and integrated Darge's platoon during the recent meat-grinders of Oricon and Ruisto, earning them the formal right to offer comments at the podium. Orrin was honored when they had agreed to participate.

Yet, as the Major unsealed the official promotion cylinders, it was the senior naval commander Orrin's gaze settled upon. Per special forces custom for meritorious advancement, Orrin had personally requested that Captain Charles be the officer to physically "pin" him, attaching the heavy, polished red and blue Captain's insignia directly to his field dress uniform.

Orrin snapped a crisp, textbook field salute, his gaze alternating respectfully between the assembled commanders.

"Lieutenant Darge reporting as ordered, sirs," Orrin stated, his voice calm and confident, as he returned to attention on the dais.

 

[Captain Charles]

A Well Deserved Promotion​ Charles | Reception Deck | MIN Tempest: He was wearing his dress uniform. It was very rare that he did, though he felt today was a day that deserved it. The men of Rampart platoon were instrumental in the success to the Ruisto Expedition. He was glad the wounded were getting the honors they deserved, and honored that their commander Darge had offered to let him be the one to “pin” him. The Captain’s rank was felt heavy in his hands. For Darge that weight was synonymous with his achievements and the weight of responsibility he would now bear. He had a short speech prepared. He would say that before pinning. He looked out at the assembled guests, then back at Darge who saluted. He returned the salute. “Lieutenant Darge reporting as ordered sirs!” “Congradulations Lieutenant.” he replied. The Major stepped away from the podium. It was time. He stepped onto the podium, his immaculately shined boots glinting the the bright light. It took a good thirty minutes to make sure they were that shiny. Time that was well spent in his eyes. He wanted to look his best to honor these men who also seemed to have a lot of respect for him. He would not take that for granted. “Good Afternoon, today we are gathered to recognize the achievements and actions of Lieutenant Darge and the men of Rampart Platoon.” he began. He used his formal voice. That was also rare. It seemed appropriate. "Though a relatively new command, MSOF has already proved its worth many times over in a variety of campaigns” he paused for dramatic effect. “....publiced or not.” he added mysteriously. Little did the guests know that Rampart Platoon was the only unit of MSOF and was completing objectives that would otherwise take an entire Brigade to accomplish. Three more platoons had just been trained. All would be a part of Captain Darge’s command. “The fighting on Ruisto proved to be unexpected. Crazed Mon Calamari and beasts under the control of a mysterious machine tried to over run the site of our new base. Fighting was brutal and close quarters. Rampart Platoon held the line long enough, against overwhelming odds I might add, for reinforcements to arrive. Their actions saved the base from destruction.” He paused, holding out the rank in front of him. It was a fresh plaque, its sliver edges catching the bright light of the reception room. “This rank is a culmination of all of our efforts Lieutenant. Step forward.” He stepped forward. Charles got down from the podium, walking over so the Lieutenant was less than arms length away. “You have asked me to pin you Lieutenant. I am honored by your request. Would you like the blood pin or normal?”

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
MAHPOREEM IMPERIAL REMNANT SPACE
MIN TEMPEST

No matter how many times Ronhar wore his Imperial Field Armor, he could never quite get used to the way that it clung to his body.

He would much rather be wearing his standard blast vest and corresponding equipment, but today's ceremony demanded formality, and everything the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant had one of these events, Ronhar had to wear his dress uniform. It had been designed to be used by Imperial Officers out in the field, hence its name, but is served quite nicely as a dress uniform, hence why Ronhar had been permitted to wear it. Still, he quite wished to be rid of his uniform as soon as he possible could.

But today was not about Ronhar or his uniform. It was rather about Orinn Darge and the brave men of MSOC Valkyrie, who's efforts to stem the tide of crazed Mon Calamari had given Ronhar the time he had needed to destroy the mind control device that had been affecting the whole planet. Had Darge not occupied the residents of Rusito, Ronhar would have had much stiffer opposition to deal with, and he had already had his hands full dealing with the brainwashed soldiers who had fallen under the spell of the mysterious device. It was only proper that Darge and his team be commended for their efforts, a sentiment shared with Captain Charles , who had been selected to pin the medals he had been awarded with onto Darge himself.

What perhaps he didn't know, and Darge certainly wouldn't, was that medals were not the only thing that was being awarded here today. Ronhar had brought with him a rather rare and valuable blaster carbine that was to be presented to Darge, a limited edition Merzoidian Blaster Carbine that had been specially crafted by the N&Z Umbrella Corporation's Ambrosia Division. Once Darge accepted the honors awarded to him, Ronhar would intercept him before he left the stage, and would formally present the weapon and its travel case to Darge personally.

He was a bit curious though to see if Darge would take Charles up on his offer to "blood pin" him. In fact, Ronhar was fairly certain that the Captain was joking, though he wasn't entirely sure. Still, Darge's response to his question would be rather interesting to see, and Ronhar was half convinced that Darge would actually allow Charles to pin the medal directly onto his skin. Not the route Ronhar would personally take, but one could never tell just how devoted these brave men and women truly were to the Imperial cause...

TAGS:
Orinn Darge
Captain Charles

 

[Lothar Braeyek]

Lothar Braeyek stood rigidly among the assembled Imperial personnel, his hands clasped behind his back. Unlike the AT-AAT pilot gear he normally wore, today he was dressed in his formal Imperial uniform, every seam and insignia kept immaculate. His buzz cut and stern expression gave him little need for theatrics.

His dark eyes followed Sergeant Major Hamish Horvath as the Rampart Platoon formation was called to attention. He gave a faint nod of approval. At least the man knew how to command a formation.
Then came the wounded troopers.
Lothar watched the six men return to the ranks, his eyes briefly settling on the trooper with the cybernetic leg. The quiet mechanical whir echoed across the hangar.

They had been wounded but they had survived. And they were still standing.
That earned Lothar's respect.

His attention shifted toward Orinn Darge watching the Lieutenant's pride as his men received their decorations. Lothar could appreciate that. A commander who cared about his soldiers was worth more than one who simply collected medals.

Then there were Captain @Ronhar and Captain Charles

Lothar studied both officers briefly. Tane carried himself like a seasoned soldier, while Charles' immaculate presentation and polished boots drew the faintest hint of judgment from Lothar.

Typical Navy.

Still, Charles was the senior officer present. Lothar knew better than to mistake personal opinions for professional conduct.

When Charles offered Darge the choice between a normal pin and a blood pin, one of Lothar's eyebrows rose.

Finally, something interesting.

His gaze settled upon Darge.

Captain Darge.

The promotion was impressive.

Whether the man deserved it, however, remained to be seen. Lothar waited silently for his answer.

 

[Orinn Darge]

Tags: Captain Charles Ronhar Tane Lothar Braeyek​

Orrin stood firm, less than an arm's length from the senior naval commander. Through the crisp, white brilliance of the reception lights, he looked directly at the polished Captain's rank plaque resting heavy in Charles' hand, its silver edges gleaming.

"Would you like the blood pin or normal?"

A faint, confident smile broke across Orrin's face, his eyes flashing with an unshakeable resolve. As a product of the Mahporeem Remnant, he knew exactly what the tradition demanded. The "blood pin" was the unwritten test of a soldier's devotion—deliberately driving the sharp metal backing pins of the new rank insignia straight into the flesh of the officer's chest, permanently sealing their commitment to the uniform.

"Blood pin, Skipper, my men wouldn't have it any other way" Orrin responded without a single millisecond of hesitation, his voice ringing out across the deck with clear, enthusiastic pride. "Let it bite. I want to feel the weight of it."

He locked his jaw, his chest swelling outward to present his field dress uniform as Charles stepped in. After removing the First Lieutenant's bars, Charles squared up the new insignia in its place. With a firm, deliberate strike, Charles raised both fists and pounded the rank plaque flush against Orrin's tunic.

BOOM. BOOM.

The moment the sharp metal backing pins pierced Orrin's flesh, drawing a small, sharp trickle of crimson warmth beneath the silver, the entire atmosphere of the hangar shifted. In perfect, instantaneous synchronicity, every single Stormtrooper of Rampart Platoon snapped cleanly from parade rest to rigid attention. The simultaneous crack of more than thirty pairs of boots striking the deck was instantly followed by a deafening, unified roar that echoed violently off the hangar's bulkheads:

"OORAH!"

Standing at the flank of the formation, Sergeant Major Hamish Horvath watched the display, a rare, faint smile cracking his grizzled features. He gave a slow nod of absolute approval, his gravelly voice murmuring just beneath his breath, "Good lad."

Orrin's posture didn't flinch as he snapped a flawless, razor-sharp salute to the senior officer. "Thank you, sir!."

Before he could pivot back to the platoon line, Captain Tane intercepted him at the edge of the dais.

The veteran commander advanced with a heavy, disciplined tread, and presented the now Captain Darge with a beautifully crafted ornate case. When the hinges clicked open, revealing the sleek curves of the Merzoidian Blaster Carbine custom-forged by the N&Z Umbrella Corporation's Ambrosia Division, Orrin's breath caught slightly. It was a masterpiece of specialized infantry engineering, a pristine weapon that carried the raw, lethal respect of Tane's divisions with whom he had bled in the manic fogs of Ruisto.

An intense surge of pride and profound gratitude washed over the newly promoted Captain. He looked from the pristine receiver of the carbine straight into Tane's visor.

"Captain Tane, this is... exceptional. I don't know what to say" Orrin stated, his voice thick with unfeigned pride as he carefully accepted the case. "A gift like this from the commander who saved Ruisto is the highest honor. This stays with me on the vanguard. It won't gather dust in a locker, I promise you that."

He offered Tane a crisp, deeply respectful salute, the fresh sting in his chest reminding him exactly what it meant to lead the Special Missions Troopers of MSOC Valkyrie. Turning his gaze out toward the rigidly aligned ranks and the watching guests like Lothar Braeyek, Captain Orrin Darge stood tall, fully preparing himself for the heavy burden of his new command. Taking his place alongside his fellow Mahporeem Officers, Darge returned his gaze to the Major, wondering silently what was still yet to come.

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
MAHPOREEM IMPERIAL REMNANT SPACE
MIN TEMPEST

Ronhar couldn't believe it, yet their it was right in front of his eyes. Orinn Darge had elected to take a "blood pin", and Captain Charles had obliged him, pinning the medal directly to Darge's chest. Still, Ronhar had to give it to him, because Darge didn't flinch in the slightest or indicate that he was in any amount of pain whatsoever. Still, Ronhar wasn't exactly thrilled that both men had gone through doing that, not because of any moral objections, but rather because there was a possibility, however slight, that Darge could become injured from his "blood pin". Such an injury probably wouldn't be overly serious, but would likely cause Darge to be out of commission for a few days while the medics checked him out for any signs of infection.

But of course, Ronhar would worry about that if and when it happened, and he was more than willing to provide Darge with his reward for his bravery: a custom produced and quite rare Merzoidian Blaster Carbine. Though technically more of a presentation piece, the blaster could absolutely be used out in the field, and Ronhar imagined that Darge would be getting good use out of the weapon in the upcoming days as the Imperial Remnant continued its campaigns across the Outer Rim. In fact, there were rumors circulating of a recent arrival of intelligence. Apparently, Marlon Sularen had located a large Wild Space Rebellion base somewhere on Kessel, and it was likely that Mahporeem would be sending their forces there soon to destroy whatever rebel presence was on the planet.

After a few more speeches and salutes, the ceremony came to a close, and the festivities began right after. Dinner had been provided for all the attendees, and men from Darge's, Charle's and Ronhar's forces intermingled amongst one another. As Ronhar made his way through the crowd, he spotted an unfamiliar face, a solider who was looking rather...inexperienced, from what Ronhar could tell. Ronhar walked toward the man to introduce himself.

"And what's your name, solider? Can't say I've seen you around before. Captain Ronhar Tane, TK-3301", Ronhar said as he began talking to Lothar Braeyek .

TAGS:
Orinn Darge
Captain Charles
Lothar Braeyek

 

[Lothar Braeyek]

Lothar had watched the promotion ceremony from the edge of the reception deck, his glass of caf resting comfortably in one hand.

He had watched Orinn Darge stand perfectly still as the new rank was driven into his chest, followed by the thunderous roar of Rampart Platoon. Lothar's expression had barely changed, though the faintest hint of approval had settled behind his dark eyes.

The presentation of the carbine by Captain Ronhar Tane had been equally interesting. Lothar had watched the exchange quietly, noting the respect between the two officers. Whatever else could be said about the ceremony, the men of Rampart had clearly earned their place there.

As the formalities gave way to conversation and refreshments, Lothar remained somewhat apart from the festivities. His formal uniform was still immaculate just like Captain Charles & his boots.. despite the hours spent standing on the reception deck.

It was then that the voice of Captain Ronhar Tane drew his attention.

"And what's your name, soldier? Can't say I've seen you around before. Captain Ronhar Tane, TK-3301."

Lothar Braeyek turned toward him. His dark eyes travelled briefly over the Captain's armour before settling upon his face. He straightened and gave an effortless salute.

"Sergeant Lothar Braeyek. TA-147. Tank and Armored Division. AT-AAT pilot, sir."

His hand lowered neatly to his side.

"Can't say I've had the pleasure, Captain..I've spent most of my career where the armour is.. Not much call for ceremonies when you're behind controlling AT-ATs & AATs."

A faint, smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Though I suppose even a walker pilot should occasionally remind the rest of the Army that he exists.."

He took another measured sip of his caf. {{must be the finest in the galaxy}}
Ronhar Tane 's earlier assessment of him as inexperienced had not escaped Lothar Braeyek . If anything, he found it mildly amusing.
"If you're wondering whether I'm new, Captain..."

He allowed the pause to linger.
"...I'm not.. I've been fortunate enough to spend my career measured in metres of armour rather than paperwork."

Lothar looked back toward Ronhar Tane , the faint smirk returning.

"And judging by your introduction, I'd wager you've spent considerably more time telling soldiers what to do than sitting behind a set of controls yourself."

The walker pilot raised his caf slightly, almost in a casual toast.
"So, Captain Tane..."

His eyes narrowed with curiosity.
"What exactly is it that you command?"

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
MAHPOREEM IMPERIAL REMNANT SPACE
MIN TEMPEST

"Sergeant Lothar Braeyek. TA-147. Tank and Armored Division. AT-AAT pilot, sir. Can't say I've had the pleasure, Captain..I've spent most of my career where the armour is.. Not much call for ceremonies when you're behind controlling AT-ATs & AATs."

"Perhaps not, Sergeant, but your duties are still an integral part of the Imperial war machine, and should be treated as such", Ronhar replied to Braeyek's statement.

Braeyek offered a faint smile at Ronhar's remark.

"Though I suppose even a walker pilot should occasionally remind the rest of the Army that he exists..", he continued, occasionally taking a sip of his Caf ever so often. "If you're wondering whether I'm new, Captain, I'm not.. I've been fortunate enough to spend my career measured in metres of armour rather than paperwork. And judging by your introduction, I'd wager you've spent considerably more time telling soldiers what to do than sitting behind a set of controls yourself. So, Captain Tane, what exactly is it that you command?", Braeyek challenged.

Ronhar frowned at Braeyek's comments. Besides the obvious insubordination of speaking to a superior officer in the way that he had, Ronhar was quite surprised that Braeyek wasn't aware of his exploits throughout the galaxy. Though Ronhar wasn't one to really promote his deeds, the Imperial Remnant certainly had been, and everywhere you went you couldn't go more than five feet without seeing a poster or banner or holographic display featuring Ronhar doing something of importance. Still, there would always be those unaware of what was going on, or perhaps those who were simply jealous of Ronhar's success. Ronhar's voice dropped to a growl as he reproached Braeyek:

"Oh, just a little unit called Salvage Team Six, perhaps you've heard of it? Well, maybe you haven't, since you clearly don't have the clearance needed to be in the know about what we do", Ronhar retorted icily. "Oh we've been quite busy as of late, you know, campaigning all across the galaxy. Why I just came back from Doan myself, being tasked with observing just how effective our allies military measures are. After all, I've always been a 'boots on the ground' type of officer myself, which was why I declined my promotion to commander. After all, much like yourself, you could measure my career in meters of territory taken or fire received, all without the benefit of a war machine to hide behind. But forgive me, I've gone on a bit too much. Word of advice, Sergeant? Know who you're speaking to before you speak to them", Ronhar concluded, the annoyance in his voice palpable for Braeyek to hear.

TAGS:
Orinn Darge
Captain Charles
Lothar Braeyek

 

[Lothar Braeyek]

Lothar listened without interrupting, the cup of caf resting loosely in one hand. At the mention of Salvage Team Six, his expression barely changed, though there was a flicker of recognition behind his eyes.. even if he didnt like to admit it.

"Ah...there it is.."

He took another leisurely sip.

"So that is what all the banners are about."
A faint, knowing smile appeared.

"Forgive me, Captain. I spend rather more time inside armoured vehicles than admiring recruitment posters."

He lowered the cup, regarding Ronhar with more seriousness.

"I have heard of your exploits. More than enough, in fact."

There was genuine respect beneath the dry delivery, though Lothar seemed determined not to make it obvious.

"And if your reputation is half as impressive as the Imperial press would have us believe, I imagine you've earned your command."

Lothar raised his cup slightly toward Ronhar.

"To your continued success, Captain."

The faint smirk returned.

"And to my continued ignorance of who is printed on the banners."

With that, Lothar casually turned and began to saunter away, cup still in hand. In the distance, his gunner, Keeve, stood beside two other armoured personnel crewmen watching the exchange in complete silence.

Keeve simply stared at Ronhar for a moment before glancing toward Lothar as his sergeant walked off.

After several steps, Lothar glanced back over his shoulder.

"I'll be with the AT-AT crews at Kessel, should you find yourself there."

He gave a small nod.

"I'll see you on the battlefield, Captain."

He turned away again, continuing his leisurely walk as Keeve and the two armoured personnel remained behind, then following after..