M E A T B A G
Location: Orbital Salvage Platform - FIV Kingfisher
Allies: The First Order, [member="Ara Ren"], [member="Asharad Graush"], [member="Nils Brenner"], Etc.
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance, [member="Bryce Bantam"], [member="Nicolas Thorne"], Etc.
Personal Loadout: See Signature and Squad Loadout Below.
Squad Loadout: FO-02 Stormtrooper Armour, Z6 Riot Control Baton, SE-44c Blaster Pistol, Charric/Maser Rifle, FWMB-10 Repeating Blaster, Concussion Grenade(s), Thermal Detonator, G-20 Glop Grenade, Combat Vibroknife, Jetpack(s).
As the terminal before him exploded in a shower of plasmatic sparks, the Veteran Sergeant took several paces back from the duel taking place around him. It seemed that the foe whom the High Marshall had elected to engage was causing his commander some issues, having taken flight in the hopes of commanding the high ground. Not the brightest of ideas, but then again - He had to give the man some credit. It took some hefty stones to gamble with one’s life, especially when he fought against a man who was heavily armed and armoured in his bathrobe. Torian chuckled as the man’s outfit came into view, dispelling him of the earlier notion, but not being able to steal the joyous moment of elation. That’d be the day; the Stormtrooper said to himself as his eyes began to drift towards the door mounted at the back of the command deck.
When his lingering gaze had connected with the distant portal, his mind became a swirling tempest - as his limbs were idle and the growling beast lashed to his hands whined for action. Questions began forming from the murky haze of his stimulant laden mind, wondering where the Fireteam was and why they hadn’t checked in yet. Had they run into hostile contacts and were unable to make the call for reinforcement? He wasn’t sure. It was unlike his second to belay hi - No. That woman was gripped by the sinful vice of ambition. She’d do anything to rise through the ranks quickly. It wouldn’t surprise the Sergeant at all if that woman had countermanded his orders - given during their transition through the azure realm of hyperspace in the hours before the mission began - and had veered off their objective in the hopes of reaping a bloody toll amongst their countless foes.
He sighed, heavily. Though he had publicly denounced his fellow Stormtroopers in their futile pursuits of glory, there was a small portion of his soul that wished his weapon howled in anger, pulping flesh and bone alike with every swing. He had it commissioned for that very reason, and yet it went woefully underutilized. Perhaps the next time he faced off against these misguided souls, and their dogmatic overlords, his ‘Mortalis’ would finally feast upon the flesh of the unworthy.
Drawn from the depths of his desire by the crackling connection, Torian listened as the voices of his fellow Stormtroopers had echoed across their encrypted channel, relaying the orders from their erstwhile commander. They chafed at the notion of being ordered around by a Flyboy, as from what he could hear - due to either channel corruption or his sheer lack of interest in hearing their cavils - it was the old interbranch rivalries coming to the fore. The Stormtroopers were placed on a pedestal, simply because they were the first thing that was brought to the negotiation table when the peaceful talks had failed, so it was only natural that the other branches of the military were envious of the attention.
That was when the voices over his connection began screaming in alarm, causing the Sergeant to snap back into reality. “Repeat your last.” He said, with his tone tainted by distant reflection. Private Vraken’s name rune flared, with his voice on the verge of becoming breathless. He was running, and from the sounds of it - like the armies of hell itself chased after him with the intent of dragging his vile soul back into those darkened depths. “Sir! Self-Destruct. Active!” That wasn’t good. “How long?” Torian snarled. The response had taken far longer than it should’ve, which prompted the Stormtrooper to repeat his last - this time coating his words with thinly veiled aggression. “How long!” When the errant Private had finally spoken, it wasn’t ideal. They had to leave, and quickly.
Trusting in the martial prowess of the High Marshal, and knowing of his uncanny ability to overcome the odds, no matter how badly they were stacked against him, Torian turned towards the feminine agent that had accompanied his Squad. She was unknown to the Stormtrooper, but as his eyes gravitated towards where her location rune pulsated -
He watched the impossible happen. A light, defying the polarizing glare of his lenses, painted his emerald eyes with a smear of migraine-inducing colours. It took him a second to blink his vision back to normal, but what he saw as his sight returned had caused his body to act without the pulse of command. He surged forwards, letting his unconventional weapon fall slack against its chains and spark across the floor. The woman had lost her grip on the ceiling, either mistakenly deactivating her mag-boots of stepping on a polarizing plate, and plummeted towards the deck. The Stormtrooper wouldn’t have cared if the agent smacked against the rubble-strewn veranda, as he would’ve collected her broken form after his Squad had secured the bridge. However, as he would later reflect on his actions, the Sergeant bolted into action because of where she had elected to fall.
As with most, if not all Imperial vessels, the FIV Kingfisher had the iconic command trench built into the floor. It was there that the woman had chosen to lose her footing - and it was there, heaving and breathless, that the Veteran Sergeant had caught her. The nameless figure fell awkwardly into his embrace, and the sound of her helmet smacking against his chain-bound vambrace echoed in the near-silence settling over the bridge. With a grunt of effort and several muted curses, the Stormtrooper hefted the woman’s weight atop his shoulder and felt the pressure build beneath his feet. “Squad Pierce!,” He said through clenched teeth. “Fighting Withdrawal.”
“Get back to the Shuttle!” The man added as he clambered out of the command trench, and started towards the rapidly sealing holes. They had a small window in which to break through the blast shutters before they sealed the bridge and trapped them within this newfound coffin. Torian had little desire to become stardust anytime soon, despite the secret wish for death’s sweet release. “Go!” He bellowed, urging his troopers to abandon their positions and make for the closing breach. His heavy tread was slowed by the body now adorning his armoured shoulder, and for a moment - just as the massive plate of the transferring shutter slowly trundled towards its new destination - He began making his peace.
With a surge of adrenals, freshly injected into his circulatory system by his armour, Torian bounded for the exit with his comrade in tow. He could make it. He could -
Made it.
Embraced by the nothingness of the void, the Stormtrooper felt the burden adorning his shoulder become weightless. Sighing in relief, the man ignited the jetpack affixed to his back and guided himself back towards the yawning mouth of the shuttlecraft. Once atop it’s lowered assault ramp, he blink-activated his mag-boots and adhered to the grated surface with a muted vibration.
Now, as the timer that had materialized on his visor began to tick towards its terminus, Torian turned back towards the distant Corvette and hoped that his comrades were able to find their exits.
