The Void Looked Back; Imperial Dominion of Ord Pardron

[Drakar]

>> Transmission Secured...
>> Contents Decrypted...
>> Opening...

FROM: Travis Caalgen/DAWR

TO: Drakar Arywn/HINQ

CC: DS-[REDACTED] "Gorgon" (DT-0911, DT-7343, DT-7824, DT-2318), Torne Kang/NCAP

SUBJECT: Mission Order 9164-Sigma

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Lord Arywn,

A situation has arisen on the Imperial mining colony of Ord Pardron; Over the course of a six-hour period during the nighttime, an entire city was wiped out by an unknown force. All civilian corpses have been miraculously taken by these assailants, as to where we do not know. A live-feed of the attack was recovered from an ISB field agent, showing numerous arachnoid-like creatures seemingly plundering the city. Evidence shows that they are in possession of advanced weaponry.

Your orders are simple, take Gorgon Squad and any other Imperial agents you deem fit to Ord Pardron and investigate, mark, and exterminate these hostile lifeforms. As a secondary objective, I request that you acquire any technology you manage to procure from these arachnoids for study by my division. The nature of this mission and lack of knowledge of our adversary require a surgical approach, therefore the Imperial Army will assist by quarantining the surrounding area and keeping these aliens from escaping.

With best regards,

Director Travis Caalgen

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The high inquisitor set down the datapad with the message displayed on it, allowing a glass of wine to freely glide into his hand. He swirled the blood-red liquid in its container before taking a copious sip, enjoying the flavour of the luxury.

"How...peculiar..." The dark lord managed, chancing another drink before pressing down on his communicator "Captain Kang, have the Vengeance finish its refuelling cycle and send out a medium-clearance notice on a system-wide frequency, we need people for this mission."

Soon enough, a message would go out, requesting the services of loyal Imperials; Only one question remained.

Who would be brave enough to accompany death themselves to the outlying world of Ord Pardron?​

 

[Corric Tassadar]

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THEME​

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'43 tapped his personal tablet and scrolled back up to the beginning of the briefing. It was humorously short and devoid of any proper intelligence, truly an operation befitting the Imperial Intelligence: DT-7343 had no qualms about dropping feet first into the unknown murky depths of Ord Padron, but he at least wanted to know how thick the mud was. The team's briefing room was also the Vengeance's armoury, personally 'booked' by Gorgon 1-1; as far as rooms went, it sufficed. It had enough space for them to camp out, escape pods one room away and most importantly, security locks to prevent anyone from coming in. Privacy was so very hard to get around a ship, even with direct orders. He sat atop a pallet crate of ammunition in one of the corners of the room, frowning as he re-read the mission for the sixth time since they had bunked in the armoury.

He got up suddenly and chucked the tablet aside, making a pit stop by the heavy ordnance racks. He reappeared later, a flamethrower in his arms as he quick-stepped over to the huddled group of death troopers, their low voices the only other source of sound in the room. The senior trooper identified his second-in-command and ripped away the soldier's rifle from him, replacing it instead with the new toy. "Step to it Gorgons." he said, the cold wisp of annoyance biting into his voice. "We're hunting bugs."

Regardless of your previous specialty, every Death trooper was trained in a variety of weapons from the small and pitiful, to the big behemoths that was a pain to lug around. Given that they were missing a dedicated heavy weapons trooper however, '24 would have to step in for the time being. "Get your gear, prep up and be ready to move out in 90 seconds. Afterwards, form a learning circle for the briefing." Tossing '24's previous rifle to '19, he jerked his thumb back at the row of weapons lined up in their racks. "Keep it or swap it '19, we'll be on the ground against unknown hostiles and unknown tactics. No complains '24, don't want any chances. '11!"

He paused, rubbing his chin as he looked down on the newest addition to the squad. "You'll be lugging '24's spare tanks. Have fun."

'Jabber' left before the rest of the squad could voice their own opinions and yanked out a nasty looking weapon from the wall, silently grumbling to himself. Gorgon was primarily a terror unit- wasn't something of this nature more suited to Minotaur? What was Tartarus's peacekeepers doing anyway? As far as he knew, which was very little, 'Minotaur' hadn't lost anybody in their units. Why send Gorgon on a Minotaur job? All the questions in the world swam in circles inside the Lieutenant's head, but he had none of the answers to satisfy them.

 

[DT-2319]

Nineteen caught the rifle deftly, quickly placing it on the spot of the weapons rack where '24 usually kept it; even given the surprise of '43 jumping in and throwing the weapon at him, the enhancements he'd been given in both the cloning tank and Death Trooper training kept his reaction times up in the 97th percentile. Almost nothing human was faster than he was, short of the supernatural - and that was without the armour's help. Armour which he had just been finishing putting on after inspecting and cleaning it from the last mission they'd been on, in the Eriadu system; he strapped on the last shin guard, and set the helmet on his knee.

He watched '43 walk off, noting every aspect of the man's body language that he could - including, most noticeably, the way he yanked a shotgun off the wall. "He seems displeased," was Nineteen's calm and quiet observation after '43 passed back to the other side of the room. He reached over on the rifle rack next to him, grabbing the DLT-29 rifle that had been his standby ever since he first started to serve the Empire. "This should have enough power to crack an exoskeleton, don't you think, '24?" He popped the covers off of his scope for a moment, making sure that nothing had gotten into them to scratch the lenses at all. Satisfied after a moment, he put them back on.

"Hey, '24, try not to get any washback from that thing on us," he told the other member of the squad, while conducting a more thorough inspection of his rifle beyond just checking the scope. "Same for you, '11. Neither of you get shot in the fuel tanks, either, I prefer it when our explosions are more intentional and controlled."

[member="Isaac Stover"] [member="Corric Tassadar"] [member="Mark Hawkins"]

 

[Labkahip Mordulla]

Strange creatures attacking an entire city in the middle of the night, taking corpses and doing who know what with them, and to top it all of high tech weapons that eluded common knowledge. If Lab did not know any better she would have assumed it was some plot to a silly horror drama, but that was not the case here, making the accomplished scientist rather excited, but also fearful of what may become of her if set up by the strange creatures, though she was certain the storm troopers would provide adequate protection... right?

Whatever the case she was here now, a well-traveled scientists that had thrown her lot in with the imperials, despite the prejudice her race had among these type of people. Though in her mind it was well worth it, the funding she got for her arms company, new and interesting tech, as well as working with the First Order from time to time, even coming to a planet full of possible monster that wanted to eat her was not the most dangerous thing she had done. In her mind if was just the many give and take things with the Empire, put up with the deadly bug monsters, get new tech and study some strange bugs, maybe find some use for their corpses.

She kept her eyes glued on a data pad as the troopers started to file out of the hall, joking with one another as they readied weapons and armor, she kept close, but also distant, not wanting to get in their way or end up being flirted with or the but of some crude joke about doctors or her race. "Guess I better get ready to, lab coats not that great of clothing for field work".

[member="DT-2319"] l [member="Corric Tassadar"] l [member="Drakar"]

 

[Isaac Stover]

Sitting up against a crate of thermal detonators, the hardplates of his armor neatly stacked next to him, '24 calmly cycled the power on his X-72, ensuring it energized smoothly. He'd pushed it's charge shot systen to the limit on the Eriadu mission, and wanted to make sure the weapon was still in working order. Of course, just as he'd confirmed it was, Jabber plucked it from his hands and dumped a hefty piece of fire-spitting death into his lap. Groaning in pain, he shot a death glare at the Lieutenant.

"Maybe a little warning next time, Jabber..." Grumbling, he set the Oppressor Flamethrower to the side, he glanced over with a raised eyebrow at Nineteen's quip. "Of course he is. Lack of details in the brief means Intel has their head up their rear again, and search and destroy isn't really our typical style. Can't imagine he's happy about that."

Standing, he walked over to the survival gear bins, grabbing a couple of the armorweave camouflaged ponchos. Then, he grabbed two spare fuel tanks and their carry pack from the ordinance rack and dumped them at DT-0911's feet with one of the ponchos. "Wrap the tanks' bag in the poncho once you've got them inside. Won't stop direct, intentional fire, but it'll keep shrapnel or a stray bolt from turning you into charbroiled goo. As for your question Nineteen, if a 29 can't hurt these things, well, might want to bring a nice sidearm with you. It'll be quicker than getting eaten." He went back over to his armor and began sealing the plates back onto his bodyglove. Nineteen's final comment made 24 snort derisively.

"Starting to sound like the LT with how much nagging you do. Don't you worry, I know how to work a flamer. As for the rookie, well, you'll be clear of the blast zone anyways..."

[member=Mark Hawkins], [member="Corric Tassadar"] , [member="DT-2319"]

 

[Mark Hawkins]

Mark sat cleaning his personal rifle, the same rifle his friend Nathan had used the day he died, and purchased it for himself, using it for his main weapon. He'd had his friends full name, and the date he'd died laser etched into the stock in memory of him. As he sat cleaning his rifle with care, and joy, something he'd enjoyed since he was a kid, he heard the Leader of Gorgon Squad 1 walk in, and begin to give direction on their next assignment.

He'd gotten Ammo duty.

He set down his rifle, and picked up a piece of his armor, beginning to shine it with his sleeve, before 24' handed him a camouflage poncho for the tanks, and made a snide joke about 11' becoming a blast zone.

"I'd worry less about me, and more about yourself. I may be the new guy, but I still got .98m of plasmatic imperial freedom to rock." Mark slapped a power pack in his rifle, a look of determined confidence in his expression.

"Fekkin' Hooah."

[member="Isaac Stover"], [member="Corric Tassadar"], [member="Labkahip Mordulla"], [member="DT-2319"]

 

[Corric Tassadar]

Corric tossed his gear onto one of the tables in the center of the room and waited with hands on his hips for the rest of his team to drag their sorry butts over. '43's ears perked as he heard the trampling of rubber boots outside of the room, their chatter piercing the metal walls. A blare denied the storm troopers access into Gorgon's temporary quarters, followed by angry voices. "What the hell?" exclaimed someone from behind the door. "Who the hell locked the armoury?" DT-7343 sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering if the ship's crew had paid any attention to the notices on the notice board.

"Go away!" he yelled, massaging his forehead. Why did it have to be bugs? "Occupied!"

There was an indignant chorus that followed his answer, followed by rapid-fire thuds on the door. "Come on man, we got stuff to do in there! Get out!"

"You dumb or something? I said occupied!" he replied, anger now seeping into his voice. "Who the hell do you think you are? Get out of there now!"

"Son of a-" The door swung wide open as the death trooper stood in the path of a platoon of stark-white troopers staring eye to eye at him. It wasn't so much that they were on equal heights, but that he was clad in armor dark as the midnight sky and visibly seething in rage at the team's broken veneer of privacy. "ADUAYTUTLLSOYMYTEOOIUKENPWTIHD?" rasped the hoarse voice of death. "OEDRTISEHYUAONKWPENUOYROVFLEIRLDONHEWCUTOONTHTTAEEFAOGOKENNEEEIDAEIDPSUENRMUSBTNIVCHEAHEMEDWOSLR." Before the leader of the posse could reply, the armoury's door slam shut in front of them, leaving Corric and his team alone. The helmet came off as quick as it appeared on his head, flying towards the table where it bounced off and landed with a muted thud on the floor 2 feet away, slightly dented.

'43 snarled savagely at his misfortune but turned away and gestured at his squad members. "I told you all to form a force-be-damned learning circle in 90 seconds- that was two minutes ago, Gorgon? Am I to baby sit grown men?" he said, now with a little bit more restrain in his voice as he tried to give them the respect they deserved; nobody earned the right for black by pussy footing around. "We're hunting blasted bugs. Not rogue tin cans, not militia, not professional soldiers: Bugs." There was a heavy emphasis on the last word as he paused to retrieve his dented helmet. It took a few punches before it popped back into shape, though the scuff marks were harder to get rid off. Jabber grunted before setting it back down gently on the table.

"'24 will take point; everyone else stay ten, fifteen meters back in case he needs to fire the flamethrower. DT armor is tough, but it won't save you from spontaneous combustion: remember what happened to 04? Nobody needs to go darker than they already were. I'll follow up with the rear, but other than that we're really out of our depths here. I won't lie," he sighed, ruffling his fingers through his hair. "This is technically a Minotaur job. We're not exterminators by a long shot, but that doesn't mean we can't give two bloody noses. '24, in case you go down with the fuel, 19 and I will pick up for explosives duty. 11, no lip from you: we all had to pick ammo duty at one point, some earlier than others. Since no civies have been left alive, ROE is weapons a-go-go; anything that moves is deemed hostile."

And now, for the bad news.

"Gorgon will also be baby-sitting a few third-party agents, not to mention a doc'. They'll have their own security detail to bully, but anything happens to them it's on our heads. Got it?"

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OOC

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Double Transposition Key 1: Gorgon
Double Transposition Key 2: Terror

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OOC

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[TR-0010]

TR-0010 was used to mission briefings that went along the lines of not returning, It was a usual for him within the Terror Troopers, he usually never felt scared or nervous before on a mission, so what was he feeling now? Anxiety? The Terror Trooper shrugged off the feeling, he was briefed to be protecting a doctor, how comical- a terror trooper protecting.

TR-0010 slowly rebooted his cybernetics in his system to make sure they were running at top capacity, his dura-steel talons were already sharpened to the point that they could cut through bone with ease, but that was only if he could make contact, but TR-0010 was confident he would have no problem defending or offending anyone.

TR-0010 slowly walked the halls of the base seeing stark white troopers getting ready, he glared at them some backing up due to his General Grevious styled mask a slight gurgle came from TR-0010 as he stared at the troopers causing them to flinch, TR-0010 gave off a chuckle.

TR-0010 slowly trailed behind a doctor who he was suppose to guard, he slowly came up behind her, "Ahem, I'll be your bodyguard today Ma'am" TR-0010 said to the Doctor ([member="Labkahip Mordulla"])

[member="Corric Tassadar"]
[member="Mark Hawkins"]
[member="Isaac Stover"]

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

The Young Du Couteau Heir breathed loudly as he relaxed his hands and shifted his free hand to pull up his datapad. Seto felt a distinct sharpness as he reread the report, very few times has he ever felt shaken. Once when he heard the news of his family, second in the swamps infested with Vong monstrosities and thirdly what he read and watched. Seto focused on his breathing as to calm himself as he continued to walk through another hallway. You defeated the Vong monsters, after only a few months of training, this. . . this is the same Seto thought, trying to keep his own spirits up.

Seto steeled himself, assuring his fear was no where visible in his eyes or face. Afterall Seto had a choice to come to this mining colony, and he wanted to prove his worth. You are a damned Inquisitor, start acting like one! Seto mused, his black robes and light armor plates attached to key parts of his body moved gracefully with his each movement. The Young Heir continued to walk, hearing the boots of Troopers Seto picked up his pace to catch up. Seto's eyes noting the Twi'lek Scientist he remembered reading up on and someone else Seto had little idea of who exactly. ​Not standard trooper, obviously, but appears viscous and I sense death about him and with that thought Seto slowed his walk.


[member="Corric Tassadar"] [member="DT-2319"] [member="Mark Hawkins"] [member="Isaac Stover"] [member="TR-0010"]

 

[DT-2319]

"Respectfully, '43, for all we know these arthropods could be professional soldiers of a sort. There are more than seventy-eight insectoid sentient species listed in Imperial records, although I don't remember the full number. And that's discounting the arachnoid species." Nineteen picked up his rifle and helmet and walked over to where '43 was standing, trying to ignore the banging and clattering from the regular troopers nearby. The lack of proper barracks area, briefing room, and ready room for the Death trooper squad was annoying enough to him, and all the noise was, by now, starting to get on his nerves. It was a good thing that '43 was the one to tell them all to wait.

Nineteen wasn't very good at 'social interaction' outside of the squad.

"Don't let '43 get on your nerves, Eleven; if you make it through this mission without dying, I'm sure he'll be liable to be nicer towards you." His ears fixed, again, on the sound of all the Stormtroopers just outside the armoury. Like it or not, they were interfering the the overall operational readiness of the group. Before long they would have to clear out. "'43, if there isn't any more pertinent information, I recommend we put our helmets on and get out. Those stormtroopers have to get ready as well. Besides, we could then...introduce ourselves to the extras. And make sure they understand to stay out of our way." While '43 might say that any trouble happening to the doctor or other extraneous personnel could be on their heads, Nineteen knew just as well that if anybody got themselves caught in the crossfire, anything that happened would really be on their head, in an extermination mission such as this.

OOC: Congratulations, everybody, Gorgon squad is just about ready to get their dysfunctional selves out and interact with the rest of the people who are here. If any of you are anywhere near the armoury, anyways.

[member="Corric Tassadar"] [member="Mark Hawkins"] [member="Isaac Stover"]

 

[Labkahip Mordulla]

Making her way out of the conference room Lab almost did not notice the experimental soldier [member="TR-0010"] following the Twi'lek to her changing room, being the only current female and all not really expecting anyone to be so close, needless to say it kind of frightened her, especially with the cold droid like voice. Getting over turning around Lab eyes fell onto the tall experimental soldier, the man (well she assumed to be a man) constantly intriguing her whenever they met, which was not all that often to her disappointment, given the clearance the rutian Twi'lek would have loved to see what made the cyborg tick.

"Ha haa, yes I though at much, well I appreciate it the assistance, not much of a fighter myself, not that I have not been in the odd tussle every now and then", turning around Lab continued to walk towards the woman's changing room. "I'll just take a minute to get changed and then we can be on our way, don't want to keep the trooper waiting for us", closing the door Lab wasted no time removing her lab coat and other unnecessary attire, placing them in a small plastiod container before slipping into her Officer Medic Uniform, though not bothering with the cap, for clear as day reasons. It was a tight but comfortable fit, like a full body glove of sorts, a small blaster hanging from her side belt as well as some basic first aid tools and a small data pad.

"All finished, no to go meet the rest of the troops before deployment, best to know your patients before hand, makes treating them more fun, for both members", with a dignified poise and manner Lab started to make her way down the clean white corridors towards the armory, the most lily place for the trooper to be at before moving out. (with-[member="TR-0010"])

[member="DT-2319"] l [member="Seto Du Couteau"] l [member="Corric Tassadar"] l [member="Mark Hawkins"] l [member="Isaac Stover"] l [member="Drakar"]

 

[Isaac Stover]

Locking his gauntlets and hand plates into place, '24 slid his helmet into l[place and started his armor's boot-up sequence. As that finished up, he wrapped the flamer's main tank in the other poncho and then locked it into place on his backplate. He'd just begun securing the flamerthrower's sling to his harness when the armoury door was assailed by some of the more thick-headed members of the Army. 'Fekking shinies, buncha useless idiots...' Rolling his eyes and leaving it to Jabber to deal with, he retrieved his sidearm and various explosive goodies from where they'd been stowed, turning to face Jabber just as he launched into his tirade, the revelation that they'd be baby-sitting non-combatants making the demolitions trooper groan in exasperation.

"GAOEBNEOHSF4T27IOOSFGROTESIMSIOFNNASTTCAISD8SIMSIOXXNXXGAIRTETONSN"

[member="Corric Tassadar"] [member="DT-2319"] [member="Mark Hawkins"]

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

As more troopers began to file out, Seto took the opportunity to measure up the force present sent here to investigate the missing colony. The Stormtroopers were here, a Terror Trooper, and finally Seto himself the Inquisitor. And he wondered that if this was enough for their plan on exterminating an unknown xeno-threat. Seto knew that ammunition could run low and even a lightsaber could only be effective as long as the wielder isn't incapacitated. Then again, with so little known of our enemy we don't want to take a scatter shot weapon to fight a swarm of flies, best to use a small versatile weapon Seto mused wearily as he walked closer to Doctor Labkahip Mordulla.

Both of Seto's hands were behind his back as he offered a small bow to [member="Labkahip Mordulla"] out of both respect for her position as a scientist in the Empire and the fact as a Doctor she could be treating Seto. Hopefully things go smoothly, "Doctor Mordulla, I'm Inquisitor Du Couteau, though calling me Seto will quicken any communications," he spoke quickly as well as looking at [member="TR-0010"] and offering him a quick nod.

"It appears you are well protected, fortunate. I only hope that what we are bringing will be considered overkill for this mission," Seto added, a light almost humorous tone. "In any case I hope that if I'm being carried off by these creatures ,to Emperor knows where, that you Doctor will put a blaster bolt-" Seto pointed at her blaster, "-in the head of the creature carrying me off," Seto finished. Truth be told, Seto figured he would be much closer to the action and if he was getting carried off by a creature the last thing he wanted was for someone else to join him in his doom due to any attempt of a rescue. Not like that would ever happen, Seto thought, hopeful.

[member="Corric Tassadar"] [member="Mark Hawkins"] [member="Isaac Stover"] [member="Drakar"] [member="DT-2319"]

 

[Giorg Montey]

There he was, Commander Lucius Montey, sitting in orbit with his command, the Dauntless performing the routine checks that came every cycle. It was a boring job to say the least, but he didn't perform any lesser had this been a valiant fight against the Alliance. But there was only so much datawork Montey could do before his mind refused to work anymore. So, utilizing the advantage of commanding such a large vessel as a Vindicator-IV class Escort Cruiser, he decided to take a little tour, maybe even talk with some of his department heads along the way. But before he did his little tour, he decided he wanted to take a good look at the planet they were orbiting. Montey had been planet-side only once, there wasn't much to see on this pitiful little mining colony, but it surely looked quite beautiful from space, almost any planet did. Ord Padron looked like any other terrestrial planet, but do not let looks fool you, it was a nasty place covered in deserts and rocky terrain, only separated from large expanses of salt water oceans, most of which sported no agricultural value of note. Its only use was as a base for mining operations, staffed by questionably fair labor at best, but they served the Empire well. What fascinated Montey the most about the planet, was its lack of rotation cycle, while still habitable, quite comfortably so at that, for humanoid life. It was a phenomenon, one Montey found impossibly intriguing.

He found Observation Deck C-6 wasn't unoccupied like he had expected, and found a service chief gazing upon the planet's outer atmospheric glory. She gazed back at him before returning to the view, then double backed and saluted, "Commander." Her cheeks were red with embarrassment at the notion of forgetting proper protocol. Montey saluted back and brushed off the breach in protocol, already tired himself and knowing the service chief didn't need a good chewing out for something she already knew well. The chief looked down at the tips of her boots, "Thank you." Montey made a brushing gesture, "Think nothing of it chief," The woman looked at up Montey. "Chief Juhr." Montey nodded, "Chief Juhr, I'm not fan of redundancy, and at this point in your career, and in my rest time, a lecturing would be very unnecessary." Juhr nodded, "Understood." Montey rubbed his chin, "However routine, and frankly dull, this six week assignment might be, the view is fantastic." Juhr agreed, "Just getting to see something other than the duty roster for mess-hall three is a blessing for me." Montey looked at Juhr, "You run the mess-hall on deck seven?" Juhr nodded, "Section eight, yep. Not the most enticing duty in the fleet, but it sure beats running a mess-hall on some naval base in Imperial heartland territory." Montey grinned, "I bet it does."

 

[Mark Hawkins]

Mark walked to the table, plenty of yammering, and annoyance from the retarded folk in white behind the door filling his ears needlessly.

"I swear I'm gonna put a hole in one of em' if they don't shut the fekk up." Mark sighed as he stood at the table. He glanced at 19, the clone of the group, and smirked. He seemed alright thus far as he nodded in agreement.

"I'll take ya up on that. Let my Imperial bang stick do the talking for me." he smirked confidently before putting his helmet on, and resting the rifle on his shoulder, his motivation brimming in his body language, and his tone meaningful, filled with his own experience.

"They don't call me OPR8R for nothin'."

 

[Progflaw99]

Mid Rim \\ Dufilvian sector \\ Ord Pardron​

​

Munch munch munch. The sound of munching filled Gamba's ears as he enjoyed the delightful yellow banana. Life was perfect in that moment, a ripe banana in hand, a blaster in the belt - well, okay, so it wasn't perfect. In the orbit of of some backwater world named Ord Pardron, he much would have preferred to be on a beach drinking alcohol, surrounded by exotic women of varying planets (and species) around the galaxy. No, this was his lot in life, to be the cleanup crew, to get his digits dirty when the man with the plan said so. Someday, he would be the man, but for now he was content to merely carry out the work. Slinging the remainder of the banana's peel over his shoulder, Gamba leaned forward, rolling out of the egg shaped chair on the bridge of the Ape Escape and eyeballing the system from behind the console. Soon enough he would descend to the surface with a cadre of his companions, but until then, he waited. No sense in rushing things.

[member="Tanomas Graf"]​

 

[Tristar]

[IGNORE POST]

 

[Corric Tassadar]

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THEME​

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Amidst the grumblings of '24, the high motivation speech of '11 and '19's usual calm and collected observations, '43 slid on his helmet to perform a systems rundown before combat deployment. The list of data flowed endlessly on his vision, red lines that spoke meaningless nonsense to him as he retrieved his gear. Cycling the bolt of his shotgun, a flashing symbol on his screen prompted the squad leader to make a hasty silence gesture as he opened up the inbound file.

From behind the opaque visor, there were a few things veterans of the squad would have noticed.

The elevated breathing rate.

A slight twitch of his index finger.

His straightened posture.

Corric's eyes widened as his jaws locked in place. High priority, eyes only message was rare, but suddenly it made sense to him. Without speaking another word, he flashed the go-ahead sign. His change of composure was most notable when he next spoke: "Hangar bay; now." Cold, precise and most importantly, spoken directly without use of the helmet's two-way encryption system.

The armoury door smashed to the side of the doorway as '43 quick-walked out of the room, barreling past the platoon of impatient bucket heads awaiting their turn at the armoury. '43 had a quick stop to make before linking up with Gorgon.

The hallway of the Vengeance was like any other imperial warship: clinical and practical but for DT-7343 trying to keep his pace in check, there was nothing more longwinded than the path he took to the rest of the party. It wasn't hard to spot them: they were the oddest bunch around, even excluding the sinister figure of the Sith Inquisitor; terror troopers were a rare sight, but not unheard of. A doctor was most welcome in these trying times, especially if she could get her hands on one of the dead bugs: knowing the biology of the enemy was good. It meant they knew where to aim for the quickest kill.

Without bothering to cover the ten meter gap between them, Gorgon 1-1 snapped his fingers to snatch their attention before calling out to them. "All of you: hangar bay, now. Situation has changed, so move it."

He couldn't yell at them like he could with shinies or his squad when displeased, but he was afforded something that was equally satisfying enough. Glancing at the last sentence of the message, '43 gnawed on his lower lip.

The Vengeance's hangar bay was nowhere near spacious as some other ships, but that was because in this case it was chock full of supply crates, moving personnel and dropships that could transport whole platoons down to any planet. Here and now? Two platoons of shinies were being loaded up, the third headed out to establish contact with the ground troops cordoning the city. Gorgon's dropship was similarly non-descript to her sister whales, but carried far more valuable cargo: it was also their own dropship to utilize. Third party agents had their own drop ship that roosted next to Gorgon's, marked only by a single white shield on its wings. Corric jabbed a finger at it as he lead the procession of oddballs into the hangar bay. "Your ship; get in, get strapped and say good bye to the Vengeance. We depart in sixty sec'."

"GIHEDGOOHACVAEGNXRNGTNSH." he said, finally securing communications with his squad. "MDSHHERDORCAAEONDGURXXSXXCMNOA." Pausing for dramatic effect as he stepped onto the assault ramp of the drop ship, Corric slung his weapon onto his back. "WLEIBLHDUABNLDNEIAGOCARTRPXNXOGGNOOR. NMYEAMRLIETIDAANEIADTPASADEASNNTVSIITCHTXXYXXSUEERCAIP." Walking up to the dropship's pilot compartment, he gave the go-ahead signal to lift off, assuming everybody has already found their seats.

"RATESINWTMFREONDSCLEULCSRLVEIAEEISCPIESTGXIXNTRPHDIAYG."

"EHETREGHBSUATUPISOTNILGROEKVAEEHCNETIEWVSIEOIBWLTBTUNAIRPORIXXTXYIEIFFWNUWDTOH." As the squad leader sat down on the seat closest to the ramp, he gave a nervous chuckle before breaking the big news. "ENTOHLNETLEGATSYEOTTAHWANHPTNOOXRNGWRNEEAT."

 

[Giorg Montey]

As much as Montey wished to continue the conversation, duty called. Montey looked towards his belt as his holo-communicator beeped, indicating an incoming message. Montey nodded towards the crew chief, and made his leave from the observation deck, unclipping the communicator from his belt. He pressed the button on the side of the circular device to reveal a miniature version of one of Montey's watch standers standing at attention. Montey made his order quickly, "What requires my attention, lieutenant?" The junior officer wasted no time hesitating, "An Imperial Star Destroyer, eye-ess-dee-four class, has jumped form hyperspace into orbit. Their transponders are emitting Imperial codes, and they are reporting their identity as the INV Vengeance. So far this all seems to check out, but no Imperial military vessel has been scheduled to arrive for hours, much less an Imperial star destroyer." Montey thought over the details of the situation while walking towards the bridge, nearly running into a bulwark. Montey sighed, "Hail them, if I'm not on the bridge by the time they respond, relay the communications feed to my personal communicator." The lieutenant bowed, and the channel ended. It was going to be an interesting day after all.

[member="Drakar"]

 

[TR-0010]

"Ha haa, yes I though at much, well I appreciate it the assistance, not much of a fighter myself, not that I have not been in the odd tussle every now and then", The Doctor said as TR-0010 nodded, "I'll just take a minute to get changed and then we can be on our way, don't want to keep the trooper waiting for us"

"As you say Doctor" TR-0010 said looking around at the Stark White Troopers passing the halls giving TR-0010 a glare of fear mixed with anxiety as they passed him, lets just say, TR-0010 was good with reading people.

TR-0010 slowly played with his talons, the Dura-steel sharpened to the point where it could cut through bones with ease was a great thing, he slowly dragged it across the wall behind him creating sparks and cutting the wall slightly.

"All finished, now to go meet the rest of the troops before deployment, best to know your patients before hand, makes treating them more fun, for both members" The Doctor said emerging from the changing room.

TR-0010 refrained from staring at her, he might've been a frightening trooper but that didn't give him the right to gawk at people.

"Affirmative Doctor" TR-0010 said following the Doctor keeping his head elevated and such being sure to continue to look around for danger, lets just say TR-0010 was ready for anything.

"Doctor Mordulla, I'm Inquisitor Du Couteau, though calling me Seto will quicken any communications," A man said, TR-0010 brought his gaze to a man who wore simple clothing from the Terror Troopers perspective.

"It appears you are well protected, fortunate. I only hope that what we are bringing will be considered overkill for this mission," Seto added, a light almost humorous tone. "In any case I hope that if I'm being carried off by these creatures ,to Emperor knows where, that you Doctor will put a blaster bolt- In the back of the head of creature carrying me off" The man known as Seto said.

"If your being carried off Doctor even by a Sith or a Jedi, I will assist and kill the person carrying you." TR-0010 his words had intentions behind them, seeing as Terror Troopers could battle Jedi and Sith both together.

[member="Seto Du Couteau"]
[member="Labkahip Mordulla"]