Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Elegy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxOwb6QPgHQ​


This place had been a home once.

Wind whistled through cracks in the permacrete like some lamenting banshee's howls. The wooden supports creaked beneath the weight of the crumbling hut, and thunder rolled across the lands as the skies above wept. Lorrd herself grieved for the fallen, just as her forgotten sons and daughters filled the air with songs of woe.

Not single sister remained, and those that Alexander may have called brother were scattered throughout the cosmos. He stood as the sole living testament to the great tragedy that had shattered his homeland.

Millions dead, trillions of credits lost, worlds swayed to the deathly promise of chaos.

A leader dead.

This was the state that the Dominion had found itself in. Surrounded on all sides by the enemy, her heroes' ashes having been scattered to the winds. Her people awaited the fall of the axe, and for a time, Alexander had been among them.

"The price of virtue is desolation now, is it not?" His voice was heavy with unspoken sorrow.

Another voice spoke, this one with an electronic edge to its words. "It is if you let yourself believe that."

A quiet sigh fell from the warrior's lips. "I hadn't imagined my home to have fallen into such a state of disrepair."

"Tends to be what happens when you leave for twenty years." The speaker materialized in the corner of Alexander's vision. Stanley's balding face was split with a mocking grin. "I sent out a message to [member="Marcus Itera"], but you know how he is. We haven't seen him in-"

"He'll come. We walked different paths, but we're still brothers." Alex affirmed. Stanley raised his hands in mock surrender. The warrior lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug and slung his rifle across his back.

"They need us." Stanley's voice was oddly quiet.

"I know."


-------------------
Alexander Ontonas stood in the center of the briefing room within one of the many police stations situated within Lorrd city. His helmet was pinned beneath his arm, revealing a mop of brown hair, a broken nose, and intense blue eyes. Day old scruff coated his pale face, and his brow was deeply furrowed. It was here that a number of initiates had been told to gather. Some were volunteers, others exceptional soldiers picked out from the rank and file, and even a few were criminals that had opted to serve their time behind a rifle rather than in a jail cell.

Their transport had been discreet so as not to alert the locals, but the scent of change was in the air. Tensions were reaching the boiling point.

Lorrd's support of terrorist elements could not go unpunished. Her people were innocent, but her rulers were not. Her libraries of arcane knowledge could not longer be left to the hands of private citizens.

The Lord Commander's home would be freed. That was the beginning.

"State your names, backgrounds, and produce your means of identification before we begin." Alexander's tone brooked no disagreement or derision.
 
[SIZE=11pt]Lucien walked towards the police building he was told to rendezvous at, cigar in mouth, hand on his revolver. The building looked relatively shoddy as most Dominion buildings of government office did these days. It seemed the regime had burned brightly for all but a moment before quickly fizzling out. Lucien took another deep drag from his cigar [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“C’est la vie,” He said in his strange alien tongue. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He entered the building still wearing the strange Beskar’gam he had fashioned for himself while amongst the ranks of the Rang’ade. Lucien’s cybernetic HUD illuminated his surroundings outlining everything with a green tint. He was unsure whether this was to be some form of trap or not. Roving bands of primeval cultist had been causing problems and the Dominion government seemed to be in no shape to do anything about it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Until now they claimed. Lucien held no love for the Dominion or any regime for that matter. He had lost half his body and all of his old comrades fighting for the highest bidder. Everytime he made just enough money to replace what was lost. Now what was lost was his company of ex republic special forces. So, he operated as a lone wolf. Deadly in its own right, but never able to take on the larger prey. Lucien needed work and an army to be apart of. If he didn’t find it soon he’d be a fish out of water. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Lucien approached the door and carefully opened it. It creaked on its hinges as Lucien pressed his metallic palm against the wooden surface and the commando cursed inwardly. His hand hovered over his revolver as he entered. He was relieved when he saw a heavily armored man facing a large amount of raw faced recruits and not a band of raiders. Lucien’s hand relaxed around the holster and he made his way towards the fellow. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]State your names, backgrounds, and produce your means of identification before we begin.[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]" [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]The man stated briefly and Lucien decided to speak first.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“My name is Lucien, Lucien Galtier. I have served under the Gallactic republic 228th black ops division, the First Order 501st company White Wolves, The Galactic Empire’s Dark trooper project and finally the Mandalorian’s called the Rang’ade,” Lucien produced a small datapad from a satchel that lined his waste and handed it to the man. “It should all be there,” Lucien said in his peculiar accent.[/SIZE]

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]
 
Xandari wasn't quite sure what had her signing up for whatever this little Dominion group. She had no love for the Dominion, no reason to have any strong feelings toward it. Nor was she any sort of soldier - taking orders had never been something that sat well with the Falleen, whether they be from those of a higher class or rank. No, she enjoyed her weapons solely for the pleasure of knowing how to make things go boom, not for actual combat.

Yet here she was, waiting just outside the building they had been told to meet at. Nerves kept her from entering the building, a dwindling supply of cash kept her from backing out right then and there. Was she already beginning to regret her decision? No, not quite yet, though she was certain that would come later. Rather, Xan just didn't want to be the first person to walk in. Funny how nerves worked, right?

When she did work up the courage - not until after a far more soldier-looking person went on ahead, she was made all too aware of just how out of place she must've appeared. While others sported armor, she took on civilians' garb, the grease of her latest project still clinging to the cloth. The only thing about her that could possibly be mistaken for militaristic would've been her cybernetic arm and even then, it wasn't much.

With orders to speak, she was at a loss. Background? As in military background or just background in general? Listening to the first person wasn't much help, if anything his introduction made her want to sink further away from the metaphorical spotlight. When it came for her turn, she'd receded into her mind, being so focused on what she was going to say that her snapping back into focus had her forgetting all of it. "My turn? Ah- Xandari Eriss, er, sir," This was the right situation to refer to someone as 'sir', right? "I have no military experience, if that's what you mean by background, j-just weapons." Had she not already kept the red pigments available to her people as her typical look, there was little doubt in her mind that she'd be turning red in this moment. She handed over her identification and stepped back, the Falleen being all too happy to pass on the baton to the next person.
[member="Alexander Ontonas"] | [member="Lucien Galtier"]​
 

Kazuyuki Furusawa

Guest
Work, that's what Kazuyuki was here after, and like any good employee he had shown up about 15 minutes earlier and was able to grab a good seat in the small but packed room. As time went on it looked like he was going to be getting a bit more than he bargained for, though that really wasn't going to be an issue. He was 27 standard years old, but, in mercenary years he was ancient and it was about time he settled into some sort of long term job something he could retire off of if he didn't die in the process. The man in charge seemed almost bored as he asked for them to speak up.

"Kazuyuki Furusawa, if it's big and loud or it goes boom I'm your man." He also produced a small holoprojector, the perfect size to fit a wallet, and activated it, it displayed a basic identification along with his licenses and a list of normal non-lethal substances that may be lethal to him. "Just give it a scan with your 'pad if you need a copy."

[member="Xandari Eriss"] | [member="Lucien Galtier"] | [member="Alexander Ontonas"]
 
Being a private sucked but it's easy, all you gotta do is be in the right place at the right time with the right uniform and do what you're told. Military bearing called private Golovkin to stand in attention when addressed by an officer but one thought in his mind was running around like a Gungan with ADD/HD. "What the kark am i doing here... Dark troopers? White Wolves? Special forces? For karks sake, I'm just a mechanic, what could they want with me?" The transportation was all kinds of unusual too, he was a lowly wrench-monkey albeit a good one but they never got anything above comercial class transport. These guys... these guys were something else, especially that guy with the cigar. Trajan had seen his fair share of soldiers Dominion and otherwise come through his workshop and you could tell who was something shady, they moved a certain way they talked with a certain air of confidence and looked distinctive. Special ops sometimes pounded vehicles in his motorpool and the people who operated it stood apart, this guy was like them... he's killed people by the numbers. He shook the thought from his head and glanced with his peripheral vision to the other two in the room. One, the one who got here first specifically also looked like that yet with a more professional tone to his voice, more or less akin to a job interview. Professional... the third was in his boat, they probably had no idea what they gotten into but at least that guy had some sort of background in killing people, he was starting to notice a trend. Before his train of thought could lead anywhere it fell down to him to present his credential.

Military bearing and a rare and I do mean rare occasion when Trajan was sober allowed him to look somewhat presentable in his dress uniform. He executed a formal salute and extended his holographic ID card. "Private Trajan Golovkin, 605th cavalry troop mechanic of the Dominion army reporting for duty"
[member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"] [member="Xandari Eriss"] [member="Lucien Galtier"] [member="Alexander Ontonas"]

 
Tyris walked through the hallowed streets of the husk of a world that was Lorrd. The world had been hit hard by the near collapse of the Dominion, hit harder by the grief. The streets were cracked and dusty, and the buildings abandoned and filthy. This was a miserable way to live, a miserable place to see. He had his sniper strapped to his back as he hobbled down the street towards his destination. This place was a sad show of what happens when hard times come across one of the many factions of the galaxy, he would hate to live here.

He made his way towards the final destination, an old permacrete police station. Abandoned, like the rest of the government structures, it lay silent until now. He quickly scoped it real quick with his sniper before approaching further, he saw a few other shadowy figures walk in, they looked like soldiers, criminals, whatever scum you could find. He lit a cigarra and took a deep drag. He blew it out into a cloud of smoke before moving in.

He holstered his sniper, and then hobbled his way over to the police station making his way in. The room was rather small, but it seemed he had arrived rather early, as people stared flowing in, it became heavily cramped. Nothing too bad for Tyris however, he had been through worse.
The man at the center of the room asked for identification, Tyris would oblige.

"Tyris Hayes, Freelance Mercenary and Security Contractor. The only official ID I have is my 30 year old Zenithian Military ID, if you want anything more about me you're gonna have to deal with Ol' Betty here." He said with a hearty laugh, referring to his gun.

Tyris had no clue why he had been summoned, or what the purpose of this meeting was, whatever it was, he was prepared.

[member="Trajan Golovkin"] | [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"] | [member="Xandari Eriss"] | [member="Lucien Galtier"] | [member="Alexander Ontonas"]
 
The transport touched down after hours or days Ororo had no idea as the drugs were keeping him sedated. A prison guard walked back to him a smirk on his face "Hey big boy you ready for your service? Well, we'll be glad to get you out of the prison after the riot you started." the guard turned to the ramp as it opened not letting Ororo respond "show time".

Ororo had no clue what he "volunteered" but it didn't matter anymore he was free from that place. A rundown police station was just one of the buildings he was able to see while being escorted inside it. The area where ever it is was more like a slum, it reminded him of his first year from home a thought he didn't want to revisit. Ororo was guided to a room within cuffs around his arms and legs an old precaution.

Ororo was sat down in a chair still cuffed but regaining some semblance consciences. One Of the guards approached an armoured man " Here you go, sir, a full file on this brute. I was instructed to give you a brief rundown on him by the warden." the guard puts on glasses and clears his throat " Ororor Zeshrul unknown if it's his real one or not, birth world is also unknown, crimes are murder, stimulate abuse, and petty theft."

[member="Tyris Hayes"] [member="Trajan Golovkin"] [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"] [member="Xandari Eriss"] [member="Lucien Galtier"] [member="Alexander Ontonas"]
 
Hours before Norin was supposed to rendezvous with the others, he decided to wander the world of Lorrd in order to see as to what he was dealing with. The world wasn't very impressive, at least by Norin's standards. If anything it was a symbol of how far the Dominion had fallen. Speaking of which, why had he decided to help the Dominion? A good question, especially since Norin had never even heard of them until recently. It was likely because he wanted to earn a few more credits, but even then he rarely did jobs for contractors such as the Dominion, but in the end, it really didn't matter, did it?

When it was finally time to rendezvous with the others he made his way to the police station where they were all meeting. Norin expected the others to either be veterans of war or just mercenaries like him. As he made his way to the station, he noticed the station was in a slum, although admittedly it was one of the most "boring" slums he had even been in.

Norin sat down in the room where they were all supposed to meet, and he looked around to see he was right about his prediction. Nearly everyone in the room were mercenaries or hardened war veterans. They then asked for his name, background, and ID. "Norin Terrek, another mercenary at your serivce."

[member="Ororo Zeshrul"]
[member="Tyris Hayes"]
[member="Trajan Golovkin"]
[member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"]
[member="Xandari Eriss"]
[member="Lucien Galtier"]
[member="Alexander Ontonas"]
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NI1mWW496WY​


"He's not here." Stanley's voice quipped in Alexander's ear.

The warrior's visage did not change. Rather than dwell on that fact, he began to take stride from one side of the room to the next, blue eyes passing over each form of identification with scrutiny in mind. He met each individual with a short nod and a gruff greeting before scanning their identi-cards into his datapad. The stock of the room was about as varied as he had expected. Some were patriotic hardliners that were called in for their loyalty and zeal. Others were particularly skilled mercenaries with no port to call home. Even a handful of convicted criminals had been brought before him under the vague promise of being cleared of all charges in exchange for service.

Twenty-six individuals lingered within the cramped confines of the barracks. Alexander wondered how many would remain after he'd spoken his peace.

"At ease," he snapped off to the men that had taken to a position of attention. "I am Alexander Ontonas, former Captain of the Republic's DG division, former commander of the Galactic Alliance, and Warden of the fallen Dreadguard Legions." he gestured with a plate-bound hand toward a nearby holoprojector. The projector came to life, a thin figure clad in heavy robes materializing upon its pedestal base. Swathed in bright green light, the figure was entirely translucent, with wrinkled fingers and a wiry beard that hung from a gaunt face. The figure smiled.

"And I am Stanley, the eldest of my brothers and sister - oh, for those unaware, I am an AI. Alexander and I have been partners for a very long time now." Stanley's smile grew into a wide grin, "Ah, he was just a boy then, but I remember those times as if they were just moments ago."

Alexander lofted a brow at the projection and coughed into his fist to bring the conversation back on track.

"Stanley and I were in the Republic's service from the first Sith war fifteen years ago until its fall. Since then, my brothers and I have offered assistance to the Galactic Alliance as well, but the Essonian Reach is our home."

His gaze shifted from one individual to the next, "Some of you may have heard of our efforts. The Dreadguard were warriors of the highest caliber. We were the common man's answer to the Sith Lord. Unfortunately, our numbers were decimated with each war we fought. We could not replenish our ranks fast enough to meet the rate of attrition. Our legions were destroyed, our fortresses raided, and our deeds attributes to lesser man. Only three of us yet remain."

A brief silence followed, in which Stanley turned and gave Alexander a thumbs up. The identification cards had all gone through without a problem. "Some of you are hardened criminals," his gaze passed over [member="Ororo Zeshrul"]. "Others are mercenaries looking for a more permanent occupation." Then to [member="Norin Terrek"], [member="Tyris Hayes"], [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"], [member="Xandari Eriss"]. "And a few of you are some of our own." [member="Trajan Golovkin"] and [member="Lucien Galtier"] received a crisp nod.

"Yet you've all come here. What I have to say here does not leave this room. If you disagree with it, then we will wipe the memories of your time here via a neural scrambler. The Dominion is besieged on all fronts. At this rate, we'll start losing more than we gain. Our last chance at creating a truly free and democratic nation will be swept aside by the shadow of theocracy and fascism. The senate needs a trump card. I am here to provide them with one."

Stanley made a gesture, and the wall behind Alexander was illuminated by an old fashioned projector. A diagram of a human male's internal bodily systems was splayed across it. Bulletin points outlining the various augmentations and cybernetics were placed all along the diagram.

"The Dreadguard are dead, but their legacy yet remains. The Dominion is being reforged, and it needs men and women of character to help bring about that change. Not demi-gods clad in robes wielding energy blades, not the promise that the Force will save us all and that whatever forlorn gods created that created this galaxy favor our cause - it needs soldiers." The warrior gestured up toward the diagram.

"We have the means to create these warriors. These extraordinary individuals will become the guardians our people need. Ten times stronger than a mortal man, bones as durable as steel, reflexes to make the greatest of Jedi Masters falter, this is what the Dreadguard were. They must be called into service again." The diagram shifted to a picture of three men framed by a mob of wookies standing atop one of the great trees of Kashyyyk. Their armor was quite similar to Alexander's, though the designs were distinctly boxier. "You hail from different walks of life, but there is one thing that unites you: each of you carries the precise physiology needed to survive the augmentations that create warrior of the Dreadguard's caliber."

Alexander drew in a deep breath. "As such, I have been commissioned to revive the old order, though Stanley and I have deigned to fix the mistakes of the past rather than repeat them. This first legion shall be known as the Angeli Mortis: the Dominion's angels of death. They will be the greatest soldiers the galaxy has ever seen; the kind of soldier needed for a time that has seen more death across the stars than any other era. This is a higher calling. You will go into this a mortal, and emerge a demigod among men. You will learn the values of brotherhood and sacrifice, for we shall be the final defense against the coming end."

A hand was held out toward all. "The Angeli Mortis will change you fundamentally, both as a person and a soldier. This is a life's calling; the founding of a formerly lost order and a call to heroism. No normal person could ever undertake this great test. You must be made of greater things," he gestured toward the door. "If this frightens you -- if you have any reason to avoid this path, then you may leave. We will never contact you again if you do so. You will not remember what has gone on here."
 
[SIZE=11pt]Lucien listened as the man introduced himself. He was apparently part of the Dread Guard. Fabled warriors who had fought for the Republic before Lucien’s time. Long before the end had hearkened for the galactic republic. Now they needed new meat for the grinder and had decided to make a new batch of the warriors. Dread Guard MKIII’s. Angelis or something like that. Lucien was in.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He had already been modified and couldn’t really think of what else they could do to him. Aside from that this Alexander guy didn’t look so tough and Lucien wondered if they pitted their metal against each other whose would reign supreme. He took another puff of his cigar and the smoke drifted out of his mouth and into his broken nose. The man spouted a bunch of nonsense about them becoming higher beings, but Lucien couldn’t think how they’d be different from the Mandalorians. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Rumors had said these men were untouchable by the force, but Lucien had doubted it. He couldn’t believe these men were that deadly. But, despite the swagger Lucien carried on and off the battlefield he couldn’t help but be a little disturbed by the man in front of him. The grizzled Commando would never let it show though and didn’t now. He had to look strong in front of these men if he was going to lead them someday. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I am not scared Connard. Give me what have you and I will be there,” Lucien said between puffs of smoke his peculiar accent becoming heavy as the fear wracked his bones.[/SIZE]

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]
 
Marcus had received the message far later than expected.

He and the Disfavored had just spent nearly three weeks cleaning up some mess left by the Mando'ade and the Dominion on Dxun. Three weeks, tens of thousands of credits in profit, yet he'd lost a total of two battle brothers and a sister during this excursion. A milk run, the locals liked to call it, but the Elite had far more to worry about than the sentient inhabitants. Terrifying creatures lurked in every shadow and the remnants of a long and hard battle remained. Rusted droids and savage peoples of the low-lands, never seeing light for more than a few hours a day.

HoloNet access was hard to come by in a place like that.

However when Miranda opened the message from Stanley, Marcus was on his way immediately. He wasn't about to let himself get dragged into another frelling war again - but it was nice to see a few familiar faces, and maybe even some new ones.

"You sure about this?" The AI quipped in augmented reality, busying herself with stark white holographic hair.

"You dolling yourself up for Stanley?"

A pink hue flashed across her cheeks and nose as she snapped her head around to glare back. "Of course not. I just want to be presentable."

Of course. Even an artificial being wanted to look good in public. Of course, why didn't he know that?

I can hear you.

Marcus snorted in amusement. He knew they shared their thoughts. Talking just felt so much more natural.

"Yes, Miranda, I am aware of that. I'm also quite aware of the fact that I haven't seen this man in ages." He waved a hand over his body. "He and his damned Architects turned a man into a machine," then he pointed at her, "And a machine into a woman."

"I suppose we've got some thanking to do."

"Right," he pursed his lips.

-------------------
Within hours the Better Off was in high orbit of Lorrd. A single shuttle landed near the specified coordinates. Some of the Disfavored had tagged along, though for leisurely reasons rather than accompanying Marcus to his little homecoming.

Clad in nothing more than some tight-fitting trousers, that good ol' wife beater and a leather jacket, Marcus strode in with impunity. A lit cigarra hung lightly between his lips and an old blaster pistol saw itself strapped against his right thigh. Ever the professional, Marcus ashed his cigarra somewhere in the hallway behind him and dumped the litter on the floor before slipping into the conference room just in time to hear [member="Alexander Ontonas"] rattle off the various bio-mechanical augmentations these poor souls would receive.

He didn't speak. The man merely slid to the side to lean against a bulkhead, folding his arms.

[member="Lucien Galtier"], @Norin Terrek, [member="Ororo Zeshrul"], [member="Tyris Hayes"], [member="Trajan Golovkin"], [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"], [member="Xandari Eriss"]
 
As more people introduced themselves, Xan became all too aware of how much of a sore thumb she was in comparison to all these big, burly guys. She fought against her instinct to shrink back towards the back of the room, placed a hand on her hip and trying to look as defiant as possible without looking like she was ready to cause trouble. The more the Alexander guy droned on, the more she wanted to bail. She wasn't quite sure she was ready to commit to anything of this scale. Actually, she knew she wasn't. But the idea of having her mind wiped was definitely not something she was about.

So she stayed, occasionally nodding along as if she understood what the Captain was talking about. The Dominion was being attacked on all fronts? Oh, yes, definitely, she was absolutely a 'woman of character' invested in reforging the Dominion. Because becoming a demigod was every girl's dream. Actually that didn't sound too bad, but that was beside the point. A life commitment wasn't just something that could be decided on in the course of a couple minutes. These people couldn't possibly expect them to decide now.

She was taken aback when Lucien spoke, already so willing to devote himself to this little project. In all fairness, she'd forgotten the mentality of the company she was in, even furthering the idea that she really didn't belong here. Still, that didn't stop her from putting on a brave face, small scales shifting from red to green, inhaling deeply as she prepared to speak. Rather than words, she descended into a fit of cough as she inhaled smoke, the green pigments of her face immediately shifting back to red. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed another entering. Great, just when she was trying to look cool. "Uh, yeah, ready to get to work," she said in between coughs, cursing her luck.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"] | [member="Lucien Galtier"] | [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"] | [member="Trajan Golovkin"] | [member="Tyris Hayes"] | [member="Ororo Zeshrul"] | [member="Norin Terrek "]| [member="Marcus Itera"]​
 
When the CO called at ease Trajan snapped into position with a speed that would make his sergeant proud. He was representing his unit, his command and most importantly the Dominion army in it's entirety. His chin held high and his eyes forward he listened to every word this man said. The gravity of the commitment and the call for which he was chosen instantly hit him like a mach4 speeder center mass. Mercs, Criminals... he was not and could not judge. There was a reason why in his service Trajan never earned a higher rank, he was the most belligerent son of a queen this side of the of the galaxy had ever seen and had so many counselings in his packet it was a miracle that he was even allowed to serve, no... not a miracle... his skills in repairing and fighting made him indispensable.


Alexander Ontonas said:
Only three of us yet remain."
"Well kark..."

Alexander spoke with the authority and eloquence of a man of his rank, Legendary even if Trajan had never heard of the Dread-guard. Maybe he did but he was not the educated type, unless it was of basic formal education or mechanics and ballistics he knew very little about it. Still when told about their history something that had never happened in his life sparked inside his soul... a determination to be something greater than he was. He was happy as a mechanic living paycheck to paycheck and was never too ambitious but when the word brotherhood came to mind and the images of the dread guard popped on screen he he couldn't help but narrow his eyes in awe and feel the chill down his spine. He wanted it. Being a warrior like none ever before and being a soldier fighting to defend the Nation that wasn't his birthplace but was his home made his chest puff out. It would not be easy, he was well aware of the standards of special forces operation teams but for the first time ever he was willing to make that effort and sacrifice. It was either that or go back to the motorpool as a wrench monkey for the rest of his life as a private. "Alright... you got me"

"I'm not a grunt Sir... I've not seen combat nor taken anyone's life.." he said before swallowing hard and looking at the hologram one last time before looking Alexander right in the eyes. "But I'll do my best Sir... For the Dominion"

[member="Xandari Eriss"] [member="Marcus Itera"] [member="Marcus Itera"] [member="Lucien Galtier"] [member="Alexander Ontonas"]
 
Hands were being raised after a long speech about godhood or something like didn't matter to Ororo. Drool began dripping from his mouth as he sat there, his arms were gaining back feeling as people spoke. Joining the army wasn't what he was expecting when he was brought here. He expected to be killed really after that last stunt at the prison but a way out was a way he guessed. Two others two males and some alien stepped up first, the male confusing ororo as he didn't really know who connard was but he could be talking to anyone. The alien didn't sound enthused when it agreed to join up. The last lokked like he was already in the army so ororo wasn't surprised when he also agreed to this.

Ororo rasied his arms still bound "I'll join this anguse mort or whatever it's called if it get's me free of this."

[member="Trajan Golovkin"] [member="Xandari Eriss"] [member="Marcus Itera"] [member="Lucien Galtier"] [member="Alexander Ontonas"]
 
Tyris was rather suprised when the man mentioned that everyone in that room had the precise physiology needed to survive the process. He had no clue how being a cripple who could barley walk with a cane would be of the precise physiology for anything, it made no sense to him, but he wanted the opportunity to serve again. He was raised for military life, and then in an instant, it was denied to him, he longed to have that life again, he longed to serve for something greater than himself despite the 30 years of mercenary work and doing nothing but that.

He was bred, born, and raised as a soldier, it was his very nature to serve. He just was not able to, and that haunted him all his life. Whatever this was, if it gave ho, the opportunity to serve again, to meet his true purpose, he would be happy. He would much rather die a soldier than live to see another day, that he was certain of.

"I dont know what you would do with an old cripple like me, but if you can make me into someone worthy of serving, I am in. I have never wanted anything more." He said.

He looked to the others, criminals, mercenaries, none of them were like him, it made him feel some embarrassment, and some fear, but above all was the pride. He was considered equal to these people, he was considered worthy, he felt as if he was their equal, despite his disability. It sure felt good.

[member="Ororo Zeshrul"] | [member="Trajan Golovkin"] | [member="Xandari Eriss"] | [member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Lucien Galtier"] | [member="Alexander Ontonas"] | [member="Norin Terrek "]| [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"]
 
Precise physiology? Dreams of glory and ruin? Norin was hooked at the mention of these ideas. He wouldn't waste away his life doing meaningless jobs for meaningless people anymore. He would serve a higher, greater purpose. Perhaps he was getting a tad bit carried away, but at this moment he felt like nothing else mattered other becoming one of these "Dreadguards." Although there was no chance in hell he was calling himself an Angel Mortis or whatever the warden called it.

As he settled down, a few questions began to pop up in his mind, the most important was to why a mercenary such as the likes of him was chosen to become a super soldier. Had these people been watching him? If so, why observe him out of the thousands of other mercenaries in the galaxy?

"I have no idea why you would choose me out of the thousands of other mercenaries out there, but perhaps this will finally make me somebody of worth."

[member="Tyris Hayes"]
[member="Ororo Zeshrul"]
[member="Trajan Golovkin"]
[member="Xandari Eriss"]
[member="Marcus Itera"]
[member="Lucien Galtier"]
[member="Alexander Ontonas"]
[member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"]
 
"There's a myriad of reasons why the lot of you have been chosen, and you can thank Stanley for picking them out. He's been in charge of getting this whole shebang together." Alexander spoke in answer. It seemed the gathering had given a unanimous 'yes', which was more than good enough for the soldier. He waved hand toward Stanley, and the AI waved one right back, a wide grin on his holographic features. Then came another figure, one Alexander knew all too well.

He could not hid the smile that found its way onto his face as he gave [member="Marcus Itera"] a mock salute. That was all that there needed to be between the two of them. Their bond had always been something that did not need words to have true meaning.

"Some of you are inexperienced. Others are crippled, old, rundown. You won't need to worry about all that; we'll beat it out of you during training. Those of you that are combat capable will be serving as live fire operators alongside of the training. I expect you to take the lead." The soldier's gaze traveled most specifically to [member="Lucien Galtier"], then to [member="Norin Terrek "]and the others present.

"And you'll be paid for all the time we take from you. Don't you worry about that." Stanley piped in. "Your training starts now."

"So it does. You, you, you, and you are a team." [member="Tyris Hayes"], @Norin Terrek, [member="Xandari Eriss"], and [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"] specifically. "And you, you, and you." [member="Ororo Zeshrul"], [member="Trajan Golovkin"], and [member="Lucien Galtier"]. "We are aware that the teams are imbalanced. This accounts for combined combat experience of each team."

Alexander gestured toward the lockers all around. "Within you will find training suits of power armor similar to my own, along with standard ARs. The guns shoot non-lethal rounds that react with your armor in such a way as to make you immobile. We will be flying out into the forests up north. Your goal will be to capture a flag we have planted at the base of a particular canyon before the other team does. Meanwhile, myself and another operative will be hunting you. If a team loses all its members, you lose."

Alexander gestured toward the exit. "There are other teams moving toward the field as we speak. You'll have to compete with them as well." The warden donned his helm. "I suggest you converse with your teammates quickly and get moving. The match starts now."

Stanley rumbled with quiet laughter as Alexander strode out toward the landing pad.

@Norin Terrek, [member="Tyris Hayes"], [member="Ororo Zeshrul"], [member="Trajan Golovkin"], [member="Xandari Eriss"], [member="Marcus Itera"], [member="Lucien Galtier"], [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"]
 
Mechanical ventured to and fro. Surveying looks over all of those gathered. A motley and ragtag bunch of men and women, soon to be molded into the very fist of the oh-so glorious Dominion these people so dearly loved. Marcus had been brought into the fray nearly and entire decade ago. He'd been ordered, actually, to be thrown into Project DREADGUARD. It was never his choice, it had never been his choice. The only good thing that had come of it was Miranda. She'd been there in the beginning and was bound to be there in the inevitable end.

"Scanned them all. Their biometrics will have to come later. All I've got are their physical profiles and dossiers." Miranda reported.

Marcus nodded, raising a hand in return to [member="Alexander Ontonas"]. "We'll target the larger group first. Since they've the numbers, they're the least experienced. At least that's what I assume."

"A logical assumption."

"Thanks." He flashed her avatar a wry grin and stepped away from the bulkhead.

After listening to the rest of the briefing and finishing his appraising looks sent to the teams, he departed out the same way he'd entered.

Time to gear up.

@Norin Terrek, [member="Tyris Hayes"], [member="Ororo Zeshrul"], [member="Trajan Golovkin"], [member="Xandari Eriss"], [member="Lucien Galtier"], [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"]
 
[SIZE=11pt]Lucien strode through the police station towards the lockers. He stripped out of his Beskar’gam and adorned the new suit of armor. It wasn’t as bulky as his Beskar, more flexible allowing for agile movement. Nanoskin beneath metal plates clung tightly to his body. The armor was light compact and well made, despite it being only training armor. As the Nanosuit finished enveloping Lucien’s body and the engineer's screwed the last of the plates on he rounded the corner to another nearby locker. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He grabbed hold of one of the AR’s and inspected the rifle closely. It, like the armor, was in pristine condition. Lucien did not doubt it was a reliable weapon. He approached his new squad and gave them a curt nod. They looked like they could obey orders at least. Maybe they had even had some training on a few ranges. Lucien shrugged. He took one last drag from his cigar then ashed it on the floor. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Good evening comrades,” Lucien began in his strange accent “Undoubtedly you two are trained killers, but I believe I would be best suited to leading our team. If there are no objections than I will wear the team leader pauldron,” Lucien said as he placed a large metallic hand on the shoulder guard that signified team leader “But I have a few stipulations for those under my command. I broker no nonsense. Do as I say and when I say it. Keep your head on a swivel and report all suspicious activity immediately,” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Lucien gave the pair a flat stare that said he would be taking lead whether they objected or not then put the helmet on over his head. He placed the Pauldron on his shoulder and prepared to load up with the rest into the chopper. “We will discuss plans once we get to the battlefield,” Lucien cried to his comrades over the roar of the hover engine.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt][member="Ororo Zeshrul"] [member="Trajan Golovkin"][/SIZE]
 
The ghost of a nervous laugh escaped the cavity of Xandari's chest. Having inexperience beaten out of her didn't sound appealing whatsoever, especially giving just how far behind she was. Her only saving grace had to be the general understanding of most weapons, at least how they worked, what made them fall apart. Even then, she doubted her specialty would even be allowed within the team, at least not until training was said and done. The mention of pay put her at ease for a moment and only that, the freshest of recruits being hardly ready to start training right off the bat.

Taking a look at each of her team mates in turn, she was tempted to offer them an apology before they even started. @Norin Terrek, [member="Tyris Hayes"], and [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"] all looked like they had worlds of experience on her, each one seemed far more devoted to the cause. Even in they were only petty humans, she felt a twinge of pity for those who would be dealing with her at what she hoped would be her lowest point during training. If I'm not the first one 'dead', I'll be happy she told herself. Who knows, maybe she'd get lucky and get a hold of one of the 'enemy's weapons before they could, add a few modifications to the model. You know, stuff that'd work in her favor.

"So, what's the plan?" She asked, turning to her new teammates once Alexander and the other one took their leave. "Hopefully something that won't get us all killed?"

[member="Lucien Galtier"] | [member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Alexander Ontonas"] | [member="Norin Terrek "]| [member="Tyris Hayes"] | [member="Ororo Zeshrul"] | [member="Trajan Golovkin"] | [member="Kazuyuki Furusawa"]​
 

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