Soaring Eagle, Stalking Tigress {CIS, Dauntless Commandos, Invite Only}

[ToKola Bakari]

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"The best of the Confederacy...I shall test that claim myself."​

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How many times had Dauntless proven themselves? Hundreds? There was no telling. But they would prove themselves again this day. The Confederate Defense Force was considered the first line of defense against a foreign threat. The Dauntless Legion were coined, The Vanguard, as it was their duty to spearhead the military might of the Confederacy. First in, last out, wasn't that what was written on all of those crisply designed recruiting posters? It was a bold claim, one that had offered them both scrutiny and respect in equal amounts. Today they would see the darker side of that claim.

The Confederate Defense Force was under new command. The previous Commander and Chief had suffered an injury which left him unable to command. So, a replacement was needed. This Warmaster was not like any other the Confederacy had employed. He was not merely a soldier, but a warrior. With that came a different understanding, a different way of doing things.

The Commander of the Dauntless Legion had received the following transmission from CONCOM, The Confederate High Command:

Commander [member="Luna Terrik"],

Your unit, the 117th Dauntless Legion is hereby ordered to report to Confederate Naval Warship, The Dread Queen, for evaluation by CONCOM. This evaluation was commanded by the Grand Marshal of the CDF and is to be carried out immediately. All details of this evaluation will be disclosed by the Grand Marshal at his discretion.

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CONCOM Chief Operations Officer​

High Marshal Ki'dilo'ma ​

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So, it was that notification of duty. Brief, curt, and sure, that brought the Dauntless Legion to The Dread Queen. The flagship of the Confederate Navy loomed over Mustafar with a certain intent. It was flanked by a number of Naval Vessels, most of which were conducting perimeter sweeps and going through their typical routine when in a Tactical Environment. The Dauntless Legion had been assembled in the largest hangar of the Dread Queen, in full force. The moment they arrived it was obvious they were the only unit being evaluated. In the larger part of the hangar, were a number of officials from the Confederate High Command. Most were High Marshal's who stood near the podium, watching the Dauntless with a certain light in their eye. They seemed particularly alert, as if waiting for something, anything, to break the silence that filled this hangar.

As the last few members of Dauntless arrived and fell into formation, the air seemed to be sucked from the room as everyone wondered.

What next?

Spoiler

[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Allya Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Damsy Callat"]
[member="Pei Ven"]
[member="Lirka Ka"]
[member="Lucius Crane"]
[member="Zavek Ambrose"]
[member="Ethan Winters"]
[member="Lis'Ra Fennick"]
[member="Lin Pal'Ud"]
[member="DV8-420"]
[member="Thedra'Vazuum"]
[member="Rato Hus"]

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[Luna Terrik]

Location: Hanger of the Dread Queen
Time: 0800 Hours
Equipment: Personal Dauntless Armor, SC4 Blaster, Tactical Recon Handguns, XZ-77 “Buster” Comms Device
Post: 01
Tags:

Spoiler

[member="Pei Ven"] @Allya Vi’dreya [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Lucius Crane"] [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Maeve Archeron"] [member="Nathan Vance"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"] @To’Kola Bakari

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These types of callings always made Luna a bit uneasy. It was too easy nowadays to fake a holotransmition to make it look like someone sent something they did not. All it took was a few clever coding tools and some know-how. So when the commander received the transition from Confederate High Command, having just come off the battle of Tanaab, she was wary for just a moment. Especially if they were being called to such an isolated planet as Mustafar. However, thinking better of ignoring or even questioning an order from high command, the commander of the dauntless forces quickly returned to her vessel, the Hellspear frigate, the Rebellious Hawk. Knowing that the entire legion was expected to arrive in the system, Luna quickly commanded the rest of the frigates to head to the system, being the Paramount, Invictus, and the Vulture arriving in the system soon after the Rebellious Hawk. Carrying most of the troopers, the Angelic Fury met the four other ships over the burning planet as all powered toward the massive super star destroyer.

It wasn’t long after that that every single trooper, commando, and officer was packing onto shuttles, or in the frigates case, docking with the Dread Queen, beginning to make their way in to the main hanger. Before the ships had even entered into the system, Luna had made sure her men knew to repair any major damage to their armor from the battle of Tanaab. While cleaning it was optional, she didn’t know what the weary men were about to walk into, so having armor that was ready to go was mandatory. In Luna’s case, her armor was completely ready to go, as well as the blaster across her back and the pistols on her hips.

While the men and women of the Dauntless were exhausted, were damaged, this wouldn’t be seen as they lined up in clean, even rows throughout the hanger. They were organized into their squads, with Luna’s personal squad, the Omegas, being at the front of the lines. The legion’s commander, helmet under her arm and scarlet red hair pulled into a tight pony tail on top of her head, stood at the very front, standing at attention and not allowing her eyes to wander. They looked straight forward, toward the platform where she knew whomever had called them here would speak.

Had they been called to be tested? After so many had lost their lives on Tanaab? While there hadn’t been much time after the battle, she had been able to get the official numbers of legion that were still active. 14,320 Dauntless troopers, with 1,890 in the medbay’s, unable to participate. The commandos were in worse shape, having only 354 ready for active duty, with 37 too injured to leave the ships. Both sects of the Dauntless were under 80% strength, yet they had been summoned for some reason. It didn’t make Luna feel good, but the men and women behind her were ready for anything. Tired, hurting, low on numbers, none of it mattered to them.

They were Dauntless, and they would prevail.

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

Location: Hanger of the Dread Queen
Tag:

Spoiler

[member="Pei Ven"] [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Lucius Crane"] [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Maeve Archeron"] [member="Nathan Vance"] @Tiria Reinhart @To'Kola Bakari

Tiria smiled. Her green eyes rose from the communique commanding the Dauntless to arrive on the Dread Queen for inspection. Their highest commanding officer short of CONCOM itself would lay eyes upon his warriors. A dangerous time. One ripe with possibility for better or worse. Just following battle he would either be satisfied by the presentation of the Dauntless, or dismayed. While Tiria was new to this unit as a whole, she could not see him being easily dismayed. Lofty expectations, perhaps, but there wouldn't be a slouching man or woman to be found.

Datapad tucked away, the Lieutenant excused herself from the small gathering of soldiers she'd been mingling with socially. While never alone, Tiria had to keep an eye out for potential candidates. They had told her never to force anyone into her collective of thought and purpose; and she never would. That was not an order to stop increasing the knowledge, skills, and experience of the whole, however. This also happened to benefit Tiria as an 'individual' in maintaining connections with those around her. New to her role they needed to see and hear her to appreciate where she resided in their lives.

As the time of the gathering neared, Tiria donned her armor. It was unfortunate her squad would stand out from the rest, but unavoidable. She had not been at Tanaab when the Confederacy struck at the Mandalorians and their allies. Many had died or been hospitalized from the fierce battle that had raged in space, in the sky, and on the ground. What reports had been released so far with her clearance painted a strong resistance. A merciless one to those whose homes and businesses, schools and gathering places had been utterly destroyed to defend against the invaders. A valiant effort to deter the Confederate forces, but not enough given their number. As it was meant to be.

She strode from the changing room out into the gathering area of her squad. The many ships would be in the process of docking, which would take some time to assemble all units on deck. They would not be late to this party; they would have no excuse. A call to attention got everyone to order in a snap. Tiria's gaze fell over them all. They would not be late, and they would not disgrace the whole by appearing any less than perfect. "I do not need to remind you who will be in attendance today," she called out to those assembled, not rehashing the briefing already provided previously. "Nor their importance. I expect you to demonstrate your quality here, today, just as I would on the battlefield. We are Dauntless, let no one mistake us for anything else." Because if she caught any of them or should anyone higher in command see them at anything but their best, there would be no end to their own, personal hell. "Move out." Tiria turned on her heel and made for the hanger as ordered.

Despite the disparity in appearance, Tiria's squad fell in with the rest of the Dauntless. Her unit held no special place among them despite their condition. If anything, being so clean would only place upon them the need to prove their worth in the coming days, months, and years of service. To rise up, mounting the corpses of their enemy, and ensuring a future for the Confederacy and its people.

They were Dauntless, and they would prevail.

 

[Allya Vi'Dreya]

Location: Hanger​

Equipment: Armor, Blasters, Bodyglove, Flightsuit, lightsaber, EMP grenades, Vambraces, Fragmentation Grenades, Equipment​

Tags: [member="Tiria Reinhart"] | [member="Luna Terrik"] | @To'Kola Bakari​

“Allya why are you hesitating? Kill it!”
“No food or water for a week. During this time you must get across those mountains!”
“You rely on the force too much, wear this, and survive the onslaught to come.”
“Not good enough! You must be a warrior!”

The words of the past, always remained with her.

Allya stood aboard the ship, full of trepidation. This situation, it smelled far too much like her family. Up until recently they had kept a fairly good distance from the CDF, and she had experienced a good amount of freedom as the Adjudant of the Dauntless. In her time since joining, she had participated in the Invasion of Copera, were she had been a scourge. She had grown, and on Eshan, she had worked to lead a large group and save millions from the destruction the mandalorians had caused. Another invasion against the Jen'ari empire, another victory. Recently, she had participated on Tanaab, she had led the group that evened the battle field personally. She had brought down the cities shields, helped to divide the enemy forces, find locations for attacks, and coordinated from the ground. While still wounded, she then rode to Azure, where she had led a boarding attack on a Mandalorian warship. There were countless other battles she had participated in during the last year. The amount of experience she had gotten had been....overwhelming.

The teenager had been met with criticism, and doubt. Why wouldn't she have been? The Fifteen year old daughter of the Vicelord being made second in command of a prestigious unit? So she fought harder than anyone. She stood in front of the troops when she led. She did not order, she led by example. Now a year later, at the age of sixteen, the troops had learned to trust. They simply learned to follow where she went. Tanaab had seen a higher death toll than most, and a very high injury count as the Dauntless had personally seen to the attempt to free the planet from the corrupted rule of the Mandos. They were tired, they needed rest. But they were soldiers, they knew their job and did so without hesitation. She understood, her own injuries had yet to heal either. But it mattered little. When the CIS called, they answered.

Armored footsteps echoed on the hard metal floor of the hanger as she moved towards Luna. At her side her ever faithful Corporal, Crash followed. His injuries had healed well after a few days in a bacta bath on Thyferra. She simply hadn't had the time for such. Her bones were still on the mend. But it mattered little. Later, she could finish healing later. Crash reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Adjustant.” His voice was soft. “Slow down a bit, eh? You aren't some god.” Allya looked back at him, and shook her helmeted head. “I have to be. They follow me, believing I can get most of them back alive. I have to always be pushing, Crash. If I don't...I don't deserve to stand next to you all.”

The girl shrugged off the concerned hand from her subordinate and stood before Luna. Without any hesitation, she gave a crisp salute, even though the muscles in her side around the mending rip twinged. “Adjudant Vi'Dreya reporting for duty. Most able bodied troops are reporting for duty. We are still awaiting a few stragglers. But they should arrive shortly. Last minute equipment adjustments.” Her sensors scanned the Commander, to see how well the woman was healing from her own injuries.

Near to her, many of the clone troopers had gathered, to stand together with the Adjudant. It was true, Allya was not particularly close to most of the Commandos. She stood aloof, a commanding presence, and allowed Luna to be their leader. She was simply an extension of Luna's will for them. However, with the troopers, in many cases, she had been next to them for a good number of years already, before she joined the Dauntless. They were precious to her. “We are ready Commander. No matter what.”

 

[Damsy Callat]

Form: Humanoid Location: The Dread Queen​

Equipment: Blue-detailed armor / sidearm dartgun / sidearm blaster pistol /​

trident electrostaff (collapsed stock) / ID10 seeker droid and back docking port​

Tags: [member='Allya Vi'Dreya'] / [member="Luna Terrik"] / [member="Tiria Reinhart"] / [member='To'Kola Bakari']​

Post Count: 01​

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Damsy stood at attention with her fellow Omegas.

Like her Commander, her helmet was nestled snugly in the crook of her arm to reveal a low bun of braids. How she held her head, fixed level, straight up-and-down, and dead ahead, barely hid her small, stitched chin laceration--not that she meant to. She was a little guilty, sure, but even so she knew how lucky she was to have gotten out of Tanaab in the shape she did.

And, like her Commander--and Adjudant for that matter--she was worried. Though she hadn't seen the High Marshall's decree, and she knew better than to accost Luna about such a thing, the Vicelord's Sithspawn found the situation as she pieced it together off putting.

But silence suited her best for now. Damsy was nothing if not patient. She had stalked many creatures in the seas of Kamino before she had even known the name Dauntless. Good things--in that case a meal, in this case more likely answers--came to those who waited.

When Allya addressed Luna, Damsy allowed herself a ghost of a smile; it moved on quickly, melting into the unemotional mask. She didn't think this situation would benefit from her usual carefree personality. In such, she had instructed the standing-by droid folded and docked to the back of her armor to behave until whatever this was was finished.

 

[Nathan Vance]

Location: Main Hangar of The Dread Queen
Objective: Prove a point.
Equipment: Project Peregrine Scout Armor, BAW-88 Blaster Carbine, Enforcer .48 Slugthrower Pistol, Various Grenades.
Tags: [member="Luna Terrik"] , [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] , [member="Damsy Callat"] , [member="To'Kola Bakari"], [member="Tiria Reinhart"]
Post Count: 01

"Testing and Evaluation? Seriously?"
After the battle of Taanab, any form of evaluation seemed... prepostorous. The soldiers of the Dauntless Legion had proved themselves well in battle. They gave everything away to get the mission done. They had performed at peak capacity. And here they were, getting "evaluated". Nathan had personally witnessed what the war did to some people. Natural selection had already done it's job, eliminating those incapable of doing their part in the line of service. There were good people that just weren't prepared for the horrors of conflict. They snapped, like twigs beneath the boots of people. Nothing can prepare one for combat. Except for experience. That was the only deciding factor. No amount of drills, target practice, workouts... none of that can make you a soldier if you aren't mentally ready. These men were, they had proven it countless times. And yet still, they were being evaluated. Mere days after the conflict ceased. Mere days after they had proven themselves yet again. Days since they lost countless brothers. This was something they had to be ready for as well. The doubting faces of the higher-ups. Many of them probably knowing nothing of the way of the warrior, the soldier. The cold-blooded killer.

Nathan stood to attention with the rest of the Omegas, his armor polished, but not missing it's multiple burn marks and dents, which he had been unable to, and didn't want to, remove since the deployment on Taanab. He slowly scanned the area with his eyes, picking up various small details as he went. Many of the soldiers looked quite battered, and many faces were missing. However, there was another thing that caught Nathan's eye. A whole squad of shinies. They had not been deployed at Taanab. They hadn't seen true conflict for a long time. These would be the people that would struggle with evaluations. They may feel like they know it all, and are ready for everything. But a soldier who has seen combat is infinitely more capable than one without such experience. It is a simple fact. Vance scanned each and every one of them, and despite being a new member of the Dauntless, he still felt... superior to them, in a way.

As his gaze went along the lines of troopers, one particular individual, who was also a shiny, had caught his eye. [member="Tiria Reinhart"] looked like someone who was an analytical and logical person herself, as Nathan caught here eyeing the lines of troopers as though she was evaluating each and every one whom she saw. Nathan knew that look. He could definitely differentiate a logical and smart person from the average individual. He made a mental note to talk to her later, as he continued down the lines of troopers.

"Evaluation"... he thought to himself again. "Ridiculous. Guess we just have to show them what real soldiers do..."

 

[Kelsie Sylvan]

Oddly enough, this whole evaluation thing was rather new to Kelsie. Sure, she'd been evaluated during her training -- mostly physical updates, as well as the check up after her muscle and gene therapy, plus all the other augmentations. But actually being called in by a superior to test her skills was a new experience, and she wasn't sure what to expect. The Vanguard she had been a part of was never evaluated, only watched. If they failed, they would try again -- or die. If they became traitors they were hunted down, but that had never happened. It was foolish to waste their time to head to the overcompensation vessel of the CIS so a bunch of officers could look at them. Still, she'd wait and see what was in store for her and her squad.

"If you look so nervous they're gonna pick on you," she quipped jokingly at the Dauntless Commander who stood a step beside and in front of her. "Can't show weakness to those above you or below you, it seems." Kelsie of course had a light grin on her face, her hazel eyes cheerfully piercing any High Marshal that dared peek over from their raised observation platform. It wasn't the only thing that marked her apart from her serious-seeming fellow commandos -- her squad wore the modified armor she'd made for them, and they stood proudly behind her, easily some of the least-battered soldiers in the group, and for good reason. Kelsie personally was fresh, having been on a hiatus from the Dauntless until only yesterday, and it seemed that not a day of training had been missed by her squad. Kicker and Hal had done a good job in her absence; they were growing into the sort of soldiers she knew they had the potential to be. And now they had a chance to move up a little... and so she waited for the real reason they were all called away from their highly important duties as a rapid response unit.

Better be worth this excruciatingly boring wait.

[member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Nathan Vance"] [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

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[member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Nathan Vance"] [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"] [member="Luna Terrik"]​

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Over time, the final members of the Command settled into their position across from the Dauntless command. It was nearly five minutes before the first formation would officially start, this seemed to only raise their anxiety. Once the last few members of Dauntless fell in line, the main blast doors to the hangar finally opened. What greeted the Dauntless Command, was not a soldier, it was a warrior. He was draped in the trappings of his people. Thick, wood-coated armor plates covered his chest and legs, lined with a thick fur crafted from some style of beast. The grass kama that fell from his waist only seemed to add to the savagery that was this man. With skin of bronze and eyes as scorched as the sun, he was an imposing figure indeed. He was a brute of a man, standing well over the Magnaguard that followed him from the main hall. There was a mumble that arose from the members of High Command, one that seemed....discontent.

To'Kola shot the members of High Command a gaze, a very silencing one that was filled with a certain disdain of his own. "Talking!" He roared, his voice was thick with a savage accent, yet it was remarkably clear. "Be quiet, you should be at the position of attention. No talking." He treated Generals and Commanders like....privates. There was a certain respect there, yet it became painfully obvious that rank would save no man.

He made his way to the main podium, gazing at the thing with an uncaring expression. With a flick of his fingers, his Magnaguard escort made their way over to the podium. They lifted the plasteel surface out of the man's way, while he stood over the Dauntless Legion with a silent gaze. He wanted to look at them with his own eyes, gauge the men and women who had been tasked with defending the Confederacy. His gaze was all-encompassing and in short order, he found his orange orbs focused on the Commander, [member="Luna Terrik"]. The gaze stuck for a moment before he looked to the woman expectantly. Finally, he offered a sound that was a mix between a bark and grunt. Yet, it was approving in it's nature.

"Commander Terrik." His accent, though true, seemed as if it was slowly unraveling before her. Perhaps so she could better understand him? "You are the commander of the 117th Dauntless Legion. Your unit has seen sixty-two percent more combat engagements than any other standing unit in The Confederacy. Your casualty ratings are also considerably low. On that, I compliment you." His eyes did not lose their hard gaze, not even for a moment. He turned back from the woman, saying nothing more as he looked back to High Command. "These, officers believe that you are the best the Confederacy has to offer. That the skill of your legion can even be compared, to the Knight's Obsidian."

"They say, that you are the best, the first in, the last out!" He aimed a finger at the High Command officer's as if they were somehow being accused of a falsehood. "That is what they tell me." He turned back to the Legion, all that could be gathered in this single chamber. Although the man had arranged for this to be broadcasted to all the hangars, holding the entirety of the Dauntless Legion, it was also being broadcast to every unit in the CDF. Everyone would know of the events of this day. "Is this true?" He demanded, gazing down at the redheaded woman. He would allow the woman to speak, though in short order his voice would boom out once again. "The state of the Confederate Defense Force is unacceptable! By the Vicelord's own decree, the C.D.F. will no longer fall under the command of the Grand Marshal. From this day forward your lives are in my hand. I am your War Marshal, and as your War Marshal I promise you, even Units as exceptional as the Dauntless Legion will not be above examination...and if necessary reorganization."

One of the members of High Command, a High Marshal did have intentions of speaking up on Dauntless' behalf, yet was quickly silenced. "Sir, the-"

"Do not speak!" He roared once more, his anger rising. "The position of attention, High Marshal." He reminded him, before turning back to the Legion before him. The High Marshal said no more, though his eyes showed of the frustration that was beaming from him. "Commander Terrik. If Dauntless claims to be the best, I will not denounce this, yet I will put that claim to the test. Dismiss your unit. I want you and your Commandos assembled, fitted, and loaded into the drop pods in fifteen minutes. Dismissed." With that, To'kola turned from the Commander, making his way towards the High Marshal who had interrupted him. It seemed it was going to be a long day for a great many people.

 

[Caesar Kenway]

[SIZE=10pt]The Hell Hound[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10pt]The Uniform[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10pt]The Sword[/SIZE]​

@To'Kola Bakari [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Nathan Vance"] [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] @Tiria Reinhardt​

Out of the darkness of the Void of Space, the massive shape of the Hell Hound loomed into existence. It's heavily armed weapons systems readied for whatever they would find. They had known the Dauntless legion, and the Dread Queen were to be here, outside of Confederate space, and even Allied space, though they were bordering it. Mustafar was a... unique place to hold evaluations, to say the least. But it was the Dauntless they were working with. Exceptions could be made. Usually the Flagship of the Storm Armada would not be far from Confederate Space without atleast one support ship, but exceptions could be made, especially when it was to be paired with the another Super Star Destroyer, crowned as the Queen of the Confederacy Navy.

Inside his quarters, the Minister of War felt the small jolt from entering Real Space. His brandy felt it aswell, swirling around in it's cup. He finished the drink off, with a final swig, and swallowed, the warm drink (of Alderaanian origin). He then closed the holocall to the Field Marshal that he'd placed incharge of his Headquarters on Zaadja. He stood up from the desk, and grabbed his white cap and sword, sliding it into it's sheath. He then placed the cap firmly on his head, and straightened his gloves. He marched out of his quarters, and into a personal elevator. A few minutes later, after his communications officer had taken care of the Clearance Codes, he was marching along the halls of the Dread Queen, the ship that he had, not too long ago, Captain'd himself in absence of it's usual Captain.

He walked into the hangar, his crisp uniform shining ever so slightly in the white light of the hangar. He was flanked by a guard of six Praetorian-Class, a droid that he had manufactured himself to specifically be an upgraded over the Magna-Droids that were so favourable in the higher echelons of the Confederate Hierarchy. His hands were clasped just below his waist behind his back, his shoulders squared. He was an imposing figure, perhaps he carried less raw strength and aggression compared to the War Marshal, yet he had a certain air about him, the air of a man who feared no other, a man who killed with indifference, a man who wielded a knife like it was his own hand.

He walked in a moment after the newly annointed War Marshal had dismissed the Dauntless. A name he doubted applied to some after the dragon's roar he had heard from the hallway. His eyes travelled the room, and locked with those of the Dauntless Commander's. He gave the woman a quick salute in the name of respect, then returned his hand behind his back. He continued his gait over to the War Marshal, his shoes tapping on the metal floor of the ship, as the metal of his guard droids clinked in unison. He stopped, and waited, a look of indifference on his face. He waited for what seemed like several moments as the Marshal addressed the High Marshal for whatever reason. When it became obvious the assault may not stop for the foreseeable future, the Minister spoke up, equal in height to the War Marshal.

"War Marshal Bakari, I love a good bombardment for improper behaviour as much as the next man, but I do believe there may be more pressing matters? I do believe the poor soul has learned from his mistake. You may hand out whatever punishment you see fit later. I expect reputation procedes the both of us?"

 

[Luna Terrik]

Location: Hanger of the Dread Queen
Time: 0808 Hours
Equipment: Personal Dauntless Armor, SC4 Blaster, Tactical Recon Handguns, XZ-77 “Buster” Comms Device
Post: 02
Tags:

Spoiler

[member="Pei Ven"] @Allya Vi’dreya [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Lucius Crane"] [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Maeve Archeron"] [member="Nathan Vance"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"] @To’Kola Bakari

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Luna attempted to not allow her eyes and, subsequently, head, snap over to where the doors slammed open. Instead, she turned her gaze slowly, keeping her at attention stance held ridged with her chin held high. The man, a huge, impressive officer whom Luna could immediately see had had his fair share of engagements, seemingly commanded the whole room with just his presence. Something that the commander had seen herself do at times, yet he did it instantly. Any lingering conversations ended the moment his boot hit the durosteel flooring, and the silence that radiated throughout the room was absolutely deafening.

His voice was not much different in it’s ability to command attention. She felt herself being drawn into his words, even if they did have a tinge of anger behind them. Maybe not anger, but at least a tone that commanded respect with every word, and would punish those that did not adhere to this. She watched as he looked over her men from the platform, almost as if he wanted to grab the gaze of each and every man, until he finally met her own. Emerald green eyes met golden orange ones, both holding an amount of respect for the other that radiated throughout the whole room. Responding with a short nod to his grunt of approval, the commander continued to stay at attention for the man, awaiting the reason why they had been called here.

It started with a compliment. Certainly not what Luna had been expecting, yet it did not horribly surprise her. She knew the statistics of her legion, and what they had been thrown into. She also know what was coming next, would probably be much less kind than those words. Even if that was to be the case, the commander appreciated the words from the fellow warrior, giving him a curt nod. As the speech continued, slowly revealing the reasons why they had been called here, with him giving her a chance to speak for a moment.

The redhead women stayed still, clearing her throat only once before speaking, much in the same tone as the man, her voice carrying in the same manner throughout the rest of the hanger. “We are Dauntless. The men behind me have seen battles that would make some people quake in their boots. We survive because of each other. First in, last out, every single time. The stories you’ve heard of this legion are true.” Her words were not so much cut off, but almost dismissed by the man, though she doubted it wouldn’t have mattered what she had said. Her answer was not the reason they were here.

In the back of her mind, she could have predicted that this would be where the conversation would be going. The man carried himself like a warrior, so it would only make sense that he would take command of such a group. His threat of reorganization did not phase the commander, whom continued to stand at attention throughout his beratement. At the core of it, she didn’t know whether or not he truly doubted Dauntless’s ability, or if this was just a test of their skill, but whatever it was, they wouldn’t fail.

The moment she and her legion got their orders, Luna quickly turned, beginning to bark orders to all those that could hear, especially the squad’s leaders. “Let’s go then, you heard the man! I wanted us moving to those pods yesterday! Make sure you are fully loaded up as well!” She turned to her own personal squad, the Omegas, giving a follow motion as they headed toward the drop pods at the edge of the hanger. As she walked, a pair of commanders, one much taller than the other, flanked her. The taller one, carrying what looked to be a modified heavy blaster was the first to speak. “You would think they would have given us a week to recoup before a full scale testing.”

Luna shook her head, eyes continuing to stare forward as she carried her helmet underneath her arm. “New command wants to see us in action, then they want to see us, Tien. Doesn’t matter what we might find convenient.” It was the smaller of the pair, to Luna’s left, that spoke next, chuckling lightly as she did so. “They could have at least let us get a good night’s rest then, commander.” Her red hair shook lightly back and forth with her as she shook her head, chuckling at her other master sergeant’s statement. “Q’aria, if you wanted to sleep you should have done it before we got here.”

Q’aria shook her head, yet stayed silent, as did Tien. At this point, as the group approached one of the drop pods, Luna knew their minds were slowly switching into a more serious mode, as would the minds of all dauntless. This was a test, yet not one that any of them would fear. They had been tested before, and this would highly unlikely be the last time. Yet one fact remained.

They were dauntless, and they would prevail.

​

 

[Nathan Vance]

Location: Main Hangar of The Dread Queen
Objective: Prove a point.
Equipment: Project Peregrine Scout Armor, BAW-88 Blaster Carbine, Enforcer .48 Slugthrower Pistol, Various Grenades.
Tags: @To'kola Bakari [member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Caesar Kenway"] [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"]
Post Count: 02

A huge man, a beast of a man even, walked into the room. His stature towered over everyone else, as did his voice, booming across the room, silencing anyone that dared speak. "Talking. You all should be at the position of attention. No talking." They way the man spoke was... peculiar. He treated the members of CDF High Command like they were lowly troopers.The mannerisms of this man struck Nathan as an irregularity... and in some way, as an insult. He spoke to all these men in a way that could be deemed irrespectful... as though they had no idea what being a soldier meant. Yet they knew, some more than others, but each knew in his own way. Nathan made a few notes inside his head before returning to reality as the voice boomed once more.

The commander, who stood a row ahead of Vance, looked up at the War Master, exchanging a few words. Commander Terrik finished the conversation, if one could call it that, with a rather bold statement. One could feel the atmosphere within the room. The Legion greatly approved of their commander's words. They had proven everything a long time ago. Now it was just a matter of showcasing something they did hundreds of times both in training and in live combat. And yet, the way the War Master spoke gave Nathan a weird feeling. A feeling as though things weren't going to be as easy as a routine examination. He quickly pushed the thought to the back of his head. "What kind of task could he give us that we couldn't do better than the others? This examination is merely a matter of time before they realize we are superior. In every way."

Soon enough, the speeches were over. Glad to be able to move around a bit once more, Nathan walked towards the drop pods with what looked to be a spring in his step. In reality, it was just the itch of having to stand at attention for prolonged periods of time. As he followed the commander of Omega squad towards the drop pods, Nathan was approached by a fellow commando. "So, what do you think of this... examination?"

"We will show them. It's only a matter of time till they realize we are the best. Maybe they are here to evaluate raising our living standards?" - Nathan jokingly remarked as he climbed into the pod. "I mean, how hard can it be?"

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

Location: Hanger of the Dread Queen
Equipment: Project Xiphos Armor, Modular Tri-Blaster, RV-5 Grapple Line Launcher, Micro Light Shield, Disruptor Grenades, Bayonet
Tag:

Spoiler

[member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="Pei Ven"] | [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] | [member="Damsy Callat"] | [member="Lucius Crane"] | [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] | [member="Maeve Archeron"] | [member="Nathan Vance"] | @To'Kola Bakari | @To'Kola Bakari

​

While others felt a heavy weight of a man that demanded proper form and respect, Tiria felt a swell of...admiration. This one, this man strode across the hanger and dispenses with all formality and fanfare. There was a pointed efficiency to his methods compared to other sentient lifeforms in the galaxy. Yet despite his crisp methods Tiria could not imagine it stemmed from belonging to some larger collective. No, he was a single creature with a very firm grasp on what he expected, whom he expected it from, and with no tolerance or leeway for those that failed to measure up. Even if it should turn against her by some means, his methods were admirable. For someone not part of her Hive.

If only she could Join him with the rest. What strange new ideas he would bring. Sadly, she knew becoming part of the whole would destroy his personality. Or perhaps it would become her personality. What a strange thought that was. Did this 'War Marshal' possess such a strong mind?

Despite her own thoughts, however, Tiria would be mindful not everyone would share them. Not even in her own squad. Those she had not Joined; as those she would believed as she believed. Perhaps some would not be convinced of this man potentially being beneficial for the Dauntless or the Confederacy. Perhaps everything they witnessed now was a grand charade, and he would not be half as effective as Tiria hoped. The best things came in time. They would soon know the truth of things, and she would see her squad be among the finest.

Naturally, Tiria awaited Commander Terrik's order before taking any action. The War Marshall may lead from the top and at the front, but the chain of command was quite clear and he had issued orders by it.

"You heard the Commander. Commandos, double time," Tiria called out as she turned her head to regard those that had stood with her.

As they moved toward the dropships a female Commando hastened to draw near, "Lieutenant, if I may, what did you think of what the...War Marshal said?" The change in title had caused Xyial a moment's pause.

So many present seemed to be quietly discussing the same subject. It was not difficult to understand why. No one liked reorganizations, less so when your new commanding officer came off as Bakari had. "Talk is cheap. The War Marshal believes this more than most," Tiria replied as matter of fact.

"But the Dauntless' record speaks for itself," David spoke up from behind Tiria's other shoulder. "They just returned from a battle..."

With a small smile on her lips, she turned her head to look back over her shoulder at the man. "A battle fought and won on a distant world that most might only know at a cursory level. The War Marshal means to accomplish something with his actions here today. Think of it as our opportunity to prove to those that have seen battle that we will not slow them down when it matters most."

"We will not fail you, Lieutenant," they replied simultaneously.

What more did she need to hear? They had trained hard for this moment. Now it was time to prove their worth.

 

[Damsy Callat]

Form: Humanoid Location: Dread Queen, above Mustafar​

Equipment: Blue-detailed armor / sidearm dartgun / sidearm blaster pistol /​

trident electrostaff (collapsed stock) / ID10 seeker droid and back docking port​

Tags: [member="Nathan Vance"] / [member="Luna Terrik"] / [member="Caesar Kenway"] / [member='To'Kola Bakari'] /​

[member="Kelsie Sylvan"] / [member='Allya Vi'Dreya'] / [member="Tiria Reinhart"]​

Post Count: 02​

​

It was hard not to notice upon approach: Mustafar. The rivers of lava cut the crust and the light of lava easily cut through the dark vacuum of space, and into Damsy. It was irrational, she knew, to be afraid of a planet when it was so far away. And, back then, she didn't know that was where they were bound, so it made even less sense being nervous.

The fiery rock was up there on the list of planets that were close polar opposites to Kamino. Even though it wasn't quite a Tatooine and her suit was, as all the Dauntless commandos', internally climate controlled, which was especially good for the cold-blooded Shi'ido hybrid, the signature climate and iconic volcanoes put a sense of dread into the siren.

She let out a ragged sigh and backed away from the wide porthole, moving to a nearby bench where she slid into a place beside a shiny cleaning his blaster rifle. He glanced up and asked, "You a'ight, Callat?" Damsy let out another, heavier sigh, more due to exasperation this time than nerves. She ran her gloved-but-unarmored hand through the man's regulation length hair and fixed his gaze back on his work with a flick of her wrist. "Watch the sear pin, Mingan." Still, she laughed then added to her reply, "I'll be fine. Nice of you to ask."

Now that nonchalant promise seemed to be teetering on the cusp of a lie, for the words 'drop pods' as part of the war marshal's order put Damsy more on edge.

She stood in a pod, at an empty seat where she was holding onto a durasteel grab hanging from the ceiling and took stock the equipment the recent battle had left her in her belt. A replacement trident strap. A couple of recharges. A few poison darts. A useless bolt cartridge she had forgotten to replace. Half a field aid kit. Less of a ration bar. She didn't know what she'd need, but she was looking, or rather feeling, for something specific.

Hydration tablets.

None.

"'Ey, Tadpole!" Damsy glanced up at her code name to see Mingan at the pod's threshold. "What's wrong?" she asked as she moved to meet him. "Forget where you belong?" She poked her head out of the vessel to point somewhere down the line. "Sergeant Dravs--" "No, I got that." With a quick shake of his head, he took one of her now-armored hands and pushed a few things past the fingers of the fist. "Stay hydrated down there. You need 'em more than me." Nowadays, she rarely changes in combat, though her specially engineered suit could accommodate. Somehow, though, the peculiarity that was Damsy's race had become a well-known fact among much of the Legion. Apparently, Mingan had put two and two together.

With a small smile, she pocketed the capsules, and returned to her seat to strap in.

 

[Allya Vi'Dreya]

Objective: Obey Orders​

Equipment: Armor, Blasters, Vambraces, Lightsaber, EMP Grenades, Flash-Bangs, Fragmentation grenades, bodyglove, jumpsuit, equipment, supplies​

Location: Drop Pods​

Tags: [member="Damsy Callat"] | [member="Tiria Reinhart"] | [member="Nathan Vance"] | [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="Caesar Kenway"] | @To'Kola Bakari | [member="Kelsie Sylvan"]​

As Allya stood at attention, the last man she thought she would see here walked through the doors. Her uncle. Cardinal, or To'Kola Bakari. Last she had known, he was the leader of the Knights Obsidian, and that had been one of the reasons she had joined the military instead. Her jaw clenched a bit in worry about this. She had fought HARD to distance herself from her family's influence. Allya had bled for the military, and done everything she could to carve her own legacy seperate from theirs in the Confederacy. Now, all that had come to naught. Not that it mattered. She had her job, and she would do it. Besides, it wasn't as if dislike of the man filled her. It was quite the opposite.

She loved her Uncle more than anything in the galaxy. He was her hero, and more like a father to her than her own had been.​

​

But it was also what set off the warning bells in her head. He wasn't one to mince words, and he didn't even know how to hold back. Training under him had been intense. While he was filled with love and good nature, he was also harsh, and militant, it was the product of his own culture. Love and harshness went hand in hand. You fought to keep what you loved, and if you were not strong enough, you lost it. It would be no different here. They either succeeded, or they failed. Either they managed to hold onto their reputation and prove it, to have enough strenght to overcome....or else they would lose it all. He didn't work in any other way. However, a singular thought overwhelmed her mind. Her uncle was so intense, so awkward and down right straightforward, that, it just made him....

Adorable.​

​

Her uncle was absolutely adorable like this! Marching around, barking orders, intimidating officers who had zero clue how to handle the man, it was cute! She had to stifle a giggle at the whole affair. Now, it was true. The Dauntless were at their weakest. They took heavy losses in the air raid, and even those who followed her, a good portion had died in the city to give them the chance at victory by bringing down the shields and painting targets. While Cardinal had gotten shot down....again. Funny enough, her uncle was perhaps the most unlucky man to ever walk. He got blown up, shot down, crushed, smashed, bashed, and beaten in almost every invasion or major military endevour. While she trusted his skills as a warrior. As a commander....he left a lot to be desired. He tended to not think with his head. But...she trusted the man implicitly, beyond anything else. The only one who came close to her affections for him was her lover Jerek.

As Luna looked occupied, after they were dismissed, Allya moved towards the drop pods without a words. Her troopers and commandos knew better than to sit around. They followed without a word. Her forces needed no commands, no boosts to morale. They followed her to hell willingly, and most of them returned time and time again. She led from the front, they just had to follow along. It had always been that way. The troops moved into the pods, and buckled up, after double checking their gear, and preparing for the hellscape that was below.

 

[Kelsie Sylvan]

Kelsie had always found mission reports to be boring. She had to stand there and talk about stuff to her superior that they probably already knew. After all, she was there giving the mission report, and the Vanguard did not fail. She'd never actually given thought to the feelings of her squadmates -- they must have been even more bored than Kelsie. Now she understood why. She barely listened to whatever Luna and the War Marshal were saying; only barely catching the end bit where they were supposed to head to the drop pods.

The young woman yawned, stretching slightly as if she were stiff. She'd definitely need some more time to warm up, considering it'd been a little while since she'd worked or trained with the Dauntless. Then again it wouldn't be much of a problem considering they were being sent to a lava planet. She scratched behind her ears as she turned around and looked at her squad, holding each of their gazes for a moment before giving an almost imperceptible nod. As she strode off they fell in line behind her and they headed towards the drop pod bays.

"Good to be back, huh?" She grinned. "I know you guys can handle whatever big officer man can throw at you, so I'm going to give you guys something new to help with the testing. Missy, I built their suits, you know the backdoor to their systems."

Only a moment later did a slightly robotic voice respond, directly into the comms of the squad. <<Connection secured. Pleased to meet you, Dauntless Commando Squadron Alpha.>> Kelsie did love her things.

"Get used to her," she said as they arrived at their pod. "You guys are a test run, in a way. Our connection and coordination will be better, but take things slow and get acquainted with your new artificial best friend. Now let's get dirtside and show 'em how it's done."

[member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Nathan Vance"] [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"] [member="Caesar Kenway"] [member="To'Kola Bakari"]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

​

[member="Caesar Kenway"] [member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Nathan Vance"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"] [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Kelsie Sylvan"]​

​

The War Marshal had been prepared to flog his staff officer, thoroughly. Whether it would happen in a metaphoric manner or a more physical one, would remain to be seen. The High Marshal was, by the luck of the gods, spared. To'kola turned to see that @Caeser Kenway had arrived to see the progress of the Dauntless assessment. For a moment the large Sandali warrior said nothing, merely leveling his eyes against the Civilian with a certain weight.

"Minister Kenway." His thick accent greeted the man, allowing a nod of his head in firm respect. As the Confederate Defense Force fell under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of War, Minister Kenway was essentially To'kola's superior. However, just as the Dauntless would have to earn the War Marshal's favor, so would the Minister. To'kola turned back to the officers who stood rigid in his presence. "Dismissed." With nothing else needing to be said, each man snapped a crisp salute before taking a step back and filing out from the main hangar. To'kola turned back to the Minister in full, his sunstruck eyes glancing off towards the men and women of Dauntless who prepared for their mission. The War Marshal brought his body rigid, raising his hand in a full salute to the Minister. Once it was returned, he would lower the gesture of respect and hold an arm out towards the hangar's main bay door. "Come. The Dauntless will be given their mission brief shortly. I assume that is why you are here, to see their assessment. Or perhaps to do an assessment of your own?" There was little difference in the result.

The Minister would be led into the main spine of The Dread Queen, with the massive man before him leading the way to the control room. As they walked, To'kola seemed completely absorbed in his own task at hand. He was, in most ways, focused on the Dauntless and the results they would yield.

It was not long before they found themselves at the warships main control room.

The control room was alive with more officers than one would expect. A duo of Commando Droids guarded the way into the room. Each of the droids stood to attention as the War Marshal and Minister made their way inside. "Today I am going to test the Dauntless Commandos. If they meet my expectations then I will make them the tip of the spear for The Confederacy. If they fail, then I will dismantle the entire legion." He spoke matter of factly, though there was no missing the weight behind his words. A young woman with platinum blonde hair approached the War Marshal, pressing a datapad into his hand. "The Dread Queen has moved into position sir. All drop pods are loaded and the teams are prepared to deploy." After glancing at the datapad to verify all of the information was correct, Cardinal made his way to the holotable in the center of the room.

It presented a stunningly vivid display of the planet below's surface. Mustafar was a world flowing lively with molten rock and lava. The thick oceans of burning hell washed over the planet's surface until no life could feasibly inhabit the world. That was the destination for Dauntless.

​

As the Dauntless Commandos loaded into their pods, the deployment bays would come alive with an awe inspiring klaxon. ​

​

An automated voice would come over the intercom, alerting the soldiers of their deployment. ​

​

"All members of Deployment Team Alpha, prepare for deployment in sixty seconds."​

​

Time would pass as if it never existed and in moments they would be deployed.​

​

"Deployment in three...two...one."​

​

DEPLOY!​

​

​

​

I had never seen it before. Nearly a hundred pods fired into a planet filled with molten rock and lava, who could survive that? - Ensign Ar'amar Turera​

​

To'kola watched as his screen came alive with dozens of tiny, teal blips. Each one signifying a drop pod that had been fired into Mustafar's atmosphere. The pods were set to land within close proximity, which made such a maneuver risky to begin with. He watched the scene silently. Everyone watched silently. The Dauntless were being whisked into hell, and they did not even know it yet.

It would be nearly fifteen minutes before the final pod had landed on the planet. The War Marshal heard the report and hardened his expression. "Patch me in to Commander [member="Luna Terrik"]." He demanded.

A light illuminated his body and in the next moment, his holoform would be sent to the Commander's holodevice. He stood, a mountain of a man even on the tiny holosystem.

"Commander Terrik. As of this moment you are now a part of Operation: Phoenix. This is an Alpha Priority mission that you will complete, am I understood?" He did not wait for a response.

"Your mission is simple."

"Survive."​

​

"You have been deployed to the planet Mustafar with three hundred of your best soldiers. You have no vehicles or heavy armament and you have one and a half days rations. Your first objective is to reach the Antilla Mining Operation. The mining facility is about a two day ruck from your current location, including chow, rest, and sleep breaks." The mission seemed easy enough. A two day march to a mining facility? What could be so bad about that.

"However, the terrain ahead of you is hard to pass, especially in such large numbers. My analysts say it would take a normal company anywhere from two and a half to three days to complete this task. You do not have two and a half days, you do not even have two, you have fourty-six hours. Commander, you were launched into a gulch. Look around and you will see mountains in every direction, and each mountain is spewing thousands of gallons of lava each minute. In exactly fourty-six hours that gulch will flood with lava and everyone inside will die a very painful death."

"I do not mince words, Commander. If you do not accomplish this task, you will die." Even the fires of Mustafar could not compare to the War Marshal's tone as he spoke. "Now go, every second is a second closer to death. Do not stop, do not rest, you will find no mercy here."

"Welcome Dauntless, to the Phoenix' Nest."​

​

​

​

​

 

[Kiff Brayde]

​

[member="Caesar Kenway"] [member="To'Kola Bakari"]​

​

"Did I miss anything?"

Kiff rushed into the control room of the Dread Queen, brushing aside the Commando Droids standing guard at the entrance as they tried to obstruct his path. As famous as it was, Kiff had never ventured aboard the vessel before; and for that matter, Kiff had underestimated it's size as well. The time it had taken for the shuttle from Abregado-Rae to arrive at the dreadnaught, to the time it'd taken to find some officer's adjutant to point him to the nearest rail jet, had made Kiff extremely late. Any normal officer in Kiff's shoes would no doubt try to slink away, hoping that his absence wouldn't be noticed or send an apology after-the-fact, but Kiff was no ordinary officer. That, at least, was obvious as Kiff strode into the control chamber.

As Kiff's question rang throughout the room, officers turned silently to look at the late High Marshal, raised eyebrows and silently shaking heads among them; yet Kiff did not pay attention to them. His focus was directed straight to the two men who stood hunched over the holotable -- the Minister of War and the new War Marshal, both who Kiff had yet to get a drink with. Compared to Kiff's rather diminutive stature, the men in front of him were nearly giants, both towering nearly a foot over the High Marshal. Kiff could see that the War Marshal was a powerfully built man, with a certain tribal feel about him, and he'd seen the holorecording of the debrief that Bakari had given the Dauntless over the rail jet's communication devices; being the rank he was, Kiff had figured out how to have the event broadcasted to his car. But now he was here with the two, and it would be up to Kiff to make a good first impression to one of the few men that were actually his superiors.

Good thing he'd arrived late.

 

[Kelsie Sylvan]

Walking?

Kelsie again was rather distracted as her drop pod tore through the atmosphere. Oddly enough the announcement of a boring thing was what caught her attention -- and raised her suspicions. No, this was too easy. There had to be something... hostile natives? Monsters that might bite your head off? Droids? Kelsie was alright with two of those. A small battle plan had drawn itself up in her mind by the time the durasteel death trap slammed into the molten rock, whatever safety systems breaking their fall and easing them to the ground. She wasn't the one to make the first move; her squad were already unbuckled and pushing the doors open by the time Kelsie had bothered to get off her butt. She was so proud of these little ones.

They'd unloaded all their gear and necessities within half a minute, with Kelsie and Hal taking a moment to use their sensors and get a lay of the land. "Missy, sensor reading. Use the frigates if you need." It was always remarkable how efficient her AI was, and soon enough she could see the whole place in detail. A walk straight through a death valley. This was going to be fun and not fun. "Get me HoloNet and CIS records on this area; I want to know about native fauna and flora that might be dangerous, send it to Luna too once you have it. Mark likely ambush points on our route. Get me on comms with the commander."

<<Right away, Miss Sylvan.>>

Kelsie began to speak to Luna as the AI carried out its tasks. "Hey. My squad's going on forward. We've got our repulsor arrays, and I've modified ours to be a little better than the standard scout armor. The other Peregrine squads should move up the high ground, with the rest of the commandos bringing up the rear. We're tired, but this is a breeze if we just push through. Abandon the non-necessities. Minimize breaks and go on quarter rations, skip the sleep tonight. Use stims to keep energy up, we could be ambushed at any time, and we're probably gonna have to fight our way into whatever base is at the end. Remind them that the faster we get there the faster they get to go back to their bunks and get a good night's sleep -- the molten rock isn't all that comfortable." She was practically giving orders to her superior; or at least not taking any orders from her. Again her mind went back to the memories of her old squad as the current one got ready to move.

Kelsie looked back out at the valley, targets now marked. "Alright Alpha. We're going ahead of the main group. Kicker, take point. I'm left, Hal right, the rest of you have no changes. We're going for speed here, so I'm going to have Missy shut down our non-essential systems to save power. That means your shields are going to be off. We're only going to activate them when we're passing the ambush points. Ten minute rest every six hours. One hour rest after twelve, we'll let the rear guard catch up so we can take stock and rest. Otherwise, don't stop moving. If we catch any enemies, kill them quickly if possible. If not, we'll lead them out of the way so our main group doesn't have to deal with them, or lead them into the main group so our heavier weapons can take care of them. With our armor and breaks we should be fast enough. Stay frosty, use your stims wisely, and let's get moving." And thus the dozen shining commandos flew into the valley of lava.

[member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Nathan Vance"] [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"] [member="Caesar Kenway"] [member="To'Kola Bakari"]

 

[Luna Terrik]

Location: Hanger of the Dread Queen
Time: 0815 Hours
Equipment: Personal Dauntless Armor, SC4 Blaster, Tactical Recon Handguns, XZ-77 “Buster” Comms Device
Post: 03
Tags:

Spoiler

[member="Pei Ven"] @Allya Vi’dreya [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Lucius Crane"] [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Maeve Archeron"] [member="Nathan Vance"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"] @To’Kola Bakari

​

The ride down to the planet was pretty much uneventful. It didn’t seem as though the new war master was interested in seeing the commandos have to survive a burning up landing pod that was hurtling many kilometers a mile through the atmosphere. Luna, in all honesty, wouldn’t have put it past him to do something like that. Though once they landed, and the mission that they were tasked with was broadcast to her and any relelvant squad leaders, she knew she might’ve preferred the flaming drop pods. Not to say this mission was particularly difficult, at least not in it’s current state.

While this might seem like an impossible task to many a legion within the Confederacy, it was thankfully something that the Dauntless had done before, albeit, without the threat of lava polling onto their heads. She was thankful when [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] began to speak her plan into existence, knowing that it fell pretty much exactly in line with what she had planned on doing. Now was the time, however, to get everyone else on the same page.

Stepping out of the drop pod, the cooled magma of the canyon floor crunching underneath her booted feet, she turned to see the other squads beginning to pool out of their pods and meet up with their battle buddies. Squad leaders would be quick to get their squads moving without her order, knowing what the objective was. She took this moment to gather up the members of her own squad, motioning for them to quickly begin to make their way out of the pod and to start jogging their way down the canyon.

As they did so, the commander opened up a channel to all the dauntless squad leaders, beginning to lay out the plan of attack for how they would be approaching this mission. “Squad leaders. If your squad is equipped with scout suits, maneuver up the walls of this canyon and begin to give us eyes ahead. Everyone else, fall in behind my squad. We’ll be going at a pretty good pace for a while. Keep me updated on everyone’s status. Make sure they’re informed and know that we won’t be stopping for a while.”

Watching as they jogged, Luna could see and hear the scout squads powering their armor up and scaling the massive walls of the cliffs like they were nothing. Some stayed on the cliffs themselves, running on them, while others made their way to the very top. It was all in the squad leaders choice, as Luna did give them liberty on that part. Knowing that that part was handled, and that the other squads were beginning to fall in line behind her, the commander opened up a channel directly to Kelsie, wanting to update her on the situation.

“We’ve started to move out from the landing point. Scout teams are above us on the cliff line. I need you and Alpha making sure to relay as much info as possible to my hud and me directly. If we can shave even a few seconds off our journey by picking a different route we need to.” She paused for a moment to catch her breath, as we well as try to figure out a way to end the message to her friend, eventually settling on a quick, “Stay safe. Luna out,” then settling into a pace that would have to suffice her for quite a long time. They had a lot of running ahead of them.

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

Location: Mustafar
Equipment: Project Xiphos Armor, Modular Tri-Blaster, RV-5 Grapple Line Launcher, Micro Light Shield, Disruptor Grenades, Bayonet
Tag: [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="Pei Ven"] | [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] | [member="Damsy Callat"] | [member="Lucius Crane"] | [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] | [member="Maeve Archeron"] | [member="Nathan Vance"] | @To'Kola Bakari

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Tiria smiled as she listened to the briefing. Survive? The Commando's eyes pierced the transparisteel window at the flames that whipped about the hull of their humble transport. At the swarm of locusts that descended toward the planet below. She smiled with their War Marshal's declaration that failure not only meant dismantling the Dauntless, but certain death. There was no fear to be found here. Not in space, not burning on entry, nor in landing in a field of molten rock. The Hive knew how to survive.

Her eyes shifted to regard those with her, however. They were softer. Hardened, but they did not know what it meant to feed off of the tattered scraps of a once thriving world. They did not know the isolation and uncertainty of being abandoned, perhaps thought dead, always wary of the enemy's return. Ready to strike first, strike fast, and without mercy. Trained soldiers worthy to be there that day, but they'd grown up in a world that had loved them. Love held no meaning on a planet like Mustafar.

Once the pod had descended into Hell, Tiria's harness popped free and she led the way out into the unforgiving landscape. Dauntless Commander Luna Terrik 's voice soon broadcast over the channel the War Marshal had vacated. Their first order of business -- to not stand there in wait of death.

Tiria turned to regard those with her to ensure they were assembled and not bumbling about trying to get out of a pod. "Listen up," she snapped over the group's channel, "we're roughing it to the Antilla Mining Operation. Don't bother looking it up on your map." Tiria moved down the line of assembled Commandos, "It is less than forty-six hours away from our present location. And before I hear a single remark about how tired your feet are, or how stuffy your suit is, let me remind each and everyone of you there are over two hundred battle-tested Commandos here with us. Commandos that have just returned from war. I expect all of you to measure up to these men and women. So, conserve your rations and your strength for our trek ahead. We will be walking every second between what few and far between opportunities you get to rest; don't try impressing me with how fast you can move over rocky terrain -- pace yourselves, or find yourselves in a molten grave. Because let me be perfectly clear," Tiria stopped and turned to face the group, "failure is not an option."

"Now move out." Tiria turned about on the spot and began to march forward to line up as the Commander had instructed.

The Hive would no doubt give Tiria an edge to weather the harsh conditions, but she would be mindful the rest of those under her command would not be so fortunate. She wouldn't baby these grown men and women, but she would maintain a vigil over their condition regardless. Make sure they weren't wasting energy in inefficient actions. Ensure they rested in what few breaks there would be. Few were one with her, but they were hers; she would not fail the Dauntless by allowing a single one of them to collapse from neglect or recklessness.