Sarge Potteiger
Emotional Damage
Location: Leviathan, Fondor Orbit
Objective: Nostalgia
Objective List:
How often Sarge had stood in this hangar was a matter of lengths of time rather than a matter of specific numbers. Once you got past a certain point it was less 'I've probably been deployed from here two hundred times' and more 'I've spent five years of my life aboard this ship.' Sarge was beginning to worry he'd never settle down, put the rifle up above the hearth and sit down with a book and some tea.
He was also beginning to worry that such an outcome may still be a possibility.
But he was at least passingly happy as he stared out from the hangar, blue haze of the atmospheric shield flavoring the orb suspended in the void before him. An illusion, he knew, as the planet was hurtling through nothing, but still...
Snapped from his reverie by the howling of dropship engines, he craned his head to watch the first bird exit the ship. Probably headed for the shipyards. They had to get crew to the mothballed ships fairly quick, get them working again. Time was of the essence, at least with getting rudimentary power going. The Sith could probably smell the blood in the water. Who knew anymore.
Part of him wanted not to care. Part of him knew that when he stopped caring, he'd be in the dirt, or launched into a star somewhere. There'd be no weeping for him; just a somber salute and a few grim nods. Rolling his shoulders to shake himself from the stupor, he watched as the rest of the Galactic Alliance ships jockeyed for formation.
There was a swarm around FLEETCOM. A few others, Leviathan included, hung about the shipyards. Transports were positioned over the starports, assisting groundside endeavors from there. Everything had a purpose. Sarge had always termed such things 'organized chaos,' because while it looked haphazard at times, everything was done with an end goal in mind.
In this case... keeping Fondor out of sinister hands.
Objective: Nostalgia
Objective List:
Objective #1 [Military]: Fondor was the capital of the Protectorate, and is home to the OmegaPyre PMC. In orbit sits one of the handful of FLEETCOM stations produced. While not understaffed, it was briefly vulnerable as soldiers were rotated out to return to their home planets with the Protectorate dissolution. In the Chaos, a band of pirates have stormed the station. They’re believed to be funded and equipped by the Sith and are holed up in engineering. Retake the station.
Objective #2 [Humanitarian]: Constant war between the Republic and Sith have brought refugees en masse. While they used to be swiftly corralled out to further Protectorate worlds in need of population, with times as they are, they’re overflowing the cities in search of rides off world and into the Outer Rim. Assist the refugees as they begin a new life on Fondor, or start looking for one elsewhere.
Objective #3 [Corporate/Economic/Technical]: Fondor has almost always been run by the Fondor Guild of Starshipwrights, which the OmegaPyre now sits at the head of. Large portions of the Protectorate fleet sit waiting new crews for reactivation. These fleets can easily provide the Galactic Alliance with a strong naval backbone, but investment is key. Fondor was often the home of cutting edge naval technology thanks to Ayden Cater, offering prime opportunities for those in the industrial sectors. Negotiate with the Guild and/or reactivate and repair the vessels mothballed in orbit.
Objective #4 [BYOO]: Talk to Sarge about how much he hates Herglics. Alternatively, bring your own objective.
Objective #2 [Humanitarian]: Constant war between the Republic and Sith have brought refugees en masse. While they used to be swiftly corralled out to further Protectorate worlds in need of population, with times as they are, they’re overflowing the cities in search of rides off world and into the Outer Rim. Assist the refugees as they begin a new life on Fondor, or start looking for one elsewhere.
Objective #3 [Corporate/Economic/Technical]: Fondor has almost always been run by the Fondor Guild of Starshipwrights, which the OmegaPyre now sits at the head of. Large portions of the Protectorate fleet sit waiting new crews for reactivation. These fleets can easily provide the Galactic Alliance with a strong naval backbone, but investment is key. Fondor was often the home of cutting edge naval technology thanks to Ayden Cater, offering prime opportunities for those in the industrial sectors. Negotiate with the Guild and/or reactivate and repair the vessels mothballed in orbit.
Objective #4 [BYOO]: Talk to Sarge about how much he hates Herglics. Alternatively, bring your own objective.
How often Sarge had stood in this hangar was a matter of lengths of time rather than a matter of specific numbers. Once you got past a certain point it was less 'I've probably been deployed from here two hundred times' and more 'I've spent five years of my life aboard this ship.' Sarge was beginning to worry he'd never settle down, put the rifle up above the hearth and sit down with a book and some tea.
He was also beginning to worry that such an outcome may still be a possibility.
But he was at least passingly happy as he stared out from the hangar, blue haze of the atmospheric shield flavoring the orb suspended in the void before him. An illusion, he knew, as the planet was hurtling through nothing, but still...
Snapped from his reverie by the howling of dropship engines, he craned his head to watch the first bird exit the ship. Probably headed for the shipyards. They had to get crew to the mothballed ships fairly quick, get them working again. Time was of the essence, at least with getting rudimentary power going. The Sith could probably smell the blood in the water. Who knew anymore.
Part of him wanted not to care. Part of him knew that when he stopped caring, he'd be in the dirt, or launched into a star somewhere. There'd be no weeping for him; just a somber salute and a few grim nods. Rolling his shoulders to shake himself from the stupor, he watched as the rest of the Galactic Alliance ships jockeyed for formation.
There was a swarm around FLEETCOM. A few others, Leviathan included, hung about the shipyards. Transports were positioned over the starports, assisting groundside endeavors from there. Everything had a purpose. Sarge had always termed such things 'organized chaos,' because while it looked haphazard at times, everything was done with an end goal in mind.
In this case... keeping Fondor out of sinister hands.