Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Border Patrol

Dak's boots dug into the sands of Pengalan IV. Another boring patrol, another pointless assignment.

Many's the day Dak and his squad wandered through the deserts outside of Tur Lorkin; the only civilized location for miles around. The only reason they protected this hunk of rock and sand was for it's strategic location; midway between Republic and Mandolorian space. Of course, Dak didn't care. He had his orders, he had his rations, and he had his squad. A little patrol wouldn't kill him.

Dak checked the mission clock in his H.U.D. Time to check in.

"Command, this is Dust Storm 1-1. Checking in. Condition remains unchanged; Sand, and more sand. How copy?" He said into his radio.

@[member="Les Hender"] @[member="Viktor Onikov"]
 

Les Hender

Guest
L
"Command, this is Dust Storm 1-1. Checking in. Condition remains unchanged; Sand, and more sand. How copy?"
"Command to Dust Storm 1-1, I'm reading you." Les spoke with a tone familiar with droids. It was robotic in nature. "Set fast march to coordinates on your HUD" he swiped his thumb across the data pad in his hand, transferring his locational coordinates to Dak "Locals are reporting a storm is coming in your way. I don't want you and your boys caught in it. Over." Les walked across the Forward Command Center, otherwise known as an FCC. It was a mobile command center used on operations such as these, or in very large battles. It was a small, circular platform with various computer hardware. Glancing over he saw the various Republic Troopers at their stations relaying the same message he had given to Dak, to the three other squads out there. Les was First Lieutenant, and thus ran his own Platoon. Their lives were his responsibility.

@[member="Dak Va'shaden"]
 
"Copy Command. Dust Storm 1 is cowering in fear of the scary bits of sand. Out." Dak said, rolling his eyes. Woop dee doo. A sandstorm. Command just didn't want their toys to get sandy. He turned to his squad. All new faces, or helmets, as it were. So far, he'd had the highest turnover rate for squad-mates. Almost every single one requested transfers after their first forced-double-time march.

"Let's move people. Double-time to sector Echo-niner-tree-fife." he said, turning to face the three others. "It's about to get sandy. 'less you wanna get buried, I suggest you don't slow down." With that, he turned and started to jog, setting the radio in his helmet to a station he could tolerate.

After a solid half hour jog, he reached the co-ordinates. A forward OP/LP (Observation Post/Listening Post) poised on the border between the Republic line, and the uncharted desert, where the locals claim a small band of Mandolorians were hiding.

"Alright, Dust Storm. I'll take first watch. You guys grab some water and a breather. Private Maxus, you're up in three hours. got me?"

His squad saluted, and trudged off to the barracks. Dak switched his comm to a private channel.

"Les, you don't really think there's Mando's out there, do you? It's been a month. We'd have seen SOMETHING by now..."

[member="Les Hender"]
 

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