Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private To the Hilt

9th Fleet Headquarters | Avalonia, Dosuun
Personnel Office | Col. Amsel
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The halls were lined with holo stills, portraits of the men and women that had come before them. How many had been lost to history that belonged upon these walls? Rolf didn't pause to ponder it further, preoccupied with the latest dispatch from command.

FOR IMMEDIATE ASSIGNMENT
SHEPARD, SYBIL | MAJOR
EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, MAJOR SYBIL SHEPARD TO REPORT FOR DUTY ATTACHED TO THE 9TH IMPERIAL FLEET
REPORTING TO AMSEL, ROLF | COLONEL, MAJOR SHEPARD IS TO ASSUME THE DUTIES OF EXECUTIVE OFFICER OF
THE 9TH FLEET'S STORMTROOPER CORPS COMPLEMENT. ASSIGNEE WILL PRESENT ORDERS UPON ARRIVAL.


The Major, he mused. Another one rejoins the fold. It had been a common theme or so it had seemed. Familiar faces had greeted the Colonel upon his return but many hadn't survived the sacking of Dosuun - or at least their whereabouts were unknown. The sheer number of new faces had overwhelmed him at first, even the structure of command had changed since he'd been absent. It was a new dawn for the First Order and perhaps more importantly for Rolf himself. There would be time for reflection later, right now it was his responsibility to pick up the good Major and properly induct her to his command. The Colonel hadn't worked much with the Major in the past though they'd been in some of the same briefings and undoubtedly been part of the same operations - though her past was buried behind loads of red tape. He knew this because as soon as he'd seen the dispatch Rolf had gone looking. It had given him a small chuckle at the time. Good old FOSB. That much had been obvious but what exactly it was they were concealing he couldn't begin to fathom. It was no matter. Approaching the lobby of the rather antique lobby the Colonel recognized the familiar stature of the Major.

"Major Shepard?" he inquired. "Welcome aboard." Issuing a standard salute, he retrieved and offered a small datapad to the woman. "I'm Colonel Amsel, I'm sure we've met briefly in the past but as we both know - it's been a while." Motioning with one hand back towards the hall, he met eyes with the woman. "There's a few formalities but I'm sure you'll want to see the Erebus?"

 

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As Rolf Amsel Rolf Amsel presented himself into the lobby he would have caught Major Shepard examining the wood grain of a decorative picture frame. Portrayed upon the picture was a holo image of one space battle or another fought in the name of Sieger Ren, or possibly the boss before that. Considering the missing executable files in her gray matter, she could effectively care less about all that history. Not out of spite or derision, of course, but simply because these momentous events did no more to impress upon her any more than reading history textbooks. But wood? Sybil respected wood.

Thankfully this line of thought was interrupted by the good Colonel’s entrance. She hesitated to return his salute at first, but found his demeanor pleasant and direct. Thus she successfully mirrored his gesture. Sybil decided to play along with the bit about “having met before.” Why deflate the rhythm of things with some over wrought explanation like a child. She was assigned here to make things work, not start her meeting with the legendary soldier by primping and second guessing his statements.

That could come later.

“Yes. . . Sir. It is good to see you again.” It’s not like it was a disrespectful lie. Those sea blue eyeballs did technically peer upon him before. Again, explanations could come later.

“I apologize if my military etiquette isn’t clockwork precise. Training hasn’t been. . . conventional as of late.” This was the woman who didn’t apologize during her tribunal hearing, nor even thanked the person who afforded her stay of execution. Meekness was not in her career service vitae. If times were better someone within the First Order might have tested if this in fact wasn’t an imposter.

Perhaps, this as well, would come later.

“I’ve heard the Erebus is among the finest of the new vessels of the fleet. I’d love to see it.” She took the datapad that was politely offered by the Colonel and prepared to follow him.


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Rolf grinned. "It's got some old world charm to it, I'll admit." The pair traversed down several halls taking lefts then rights before entering a small, almost micro turbolift. "Sorry for the squeeze." he said. "Small power consumption pops less on close scanning." With a few buttons pressed and a quick retinal scan, the lift shot downwards at a near alarming speed - thankfully for its occupants the inertial dampeners helped them keep their respective lunches down. It only took them a minute or so before the lift came to a halt, an electronic chime indicating they'd arrived. "Right this way." Rolf nodded down the hall. It was a short one and a moment later they were inside what by all appearances was an enormous underground warehouse. Prefabricated structures, boxes of gloves, helmets, even crates of bags, belts, and holsters were neatly aligned and stacked on shelves. "We've arranged to have your gear already allocated but if you've got any additions you'd better make them now." Rolf motioned towards the racks. "You've been issued a standard set of Officer's trooper armor along with the accompanying arms and in addition we've issued you a standard ruck. I know you're more inclined to the incognito route but you're part of the ninth now."

He watched and waited with interest, wondering what other equipment the Major might decide to assign to her issue. While he waited, a small datapad appeared in his hands, comm traffic directed towards his shuttle pilot. Soon enough they'd head to the Erebus herself. Rolf wasn't particularly worried how his new XO would greet the accommodations, no doubt in her line of work comfort wasn't priority number one.

"So, Major." he said. "What do you know about the Ninth?"

 

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The lurch experienced within her stomach as the turbolift dropped them both at thrill park speeds definitely triggered some unwanted sensations, and once it was over one could easily tell that Shepard held her breath along the way. To her credit she did not yelp. With time it may even be possible to get used to such speed. That aside, Rolf led her past the racks. She replied to his first comment about gear, and underwent the tiniest twinge of remorse for not having collected a single thing of value in the last few months of active service with the First Order. Figuring it would be unseemly to quickly reply she feigned a moment or so of apprehension while her new commander did some work on a datapad.

“Hm. No, nothing, Sir. Have everything I intend to take on me.” Perhaps a bit too stoically, but isn’t that how veteran stormtroopers were expected to behave?

They moved on and she replied to the Colonel’s next question.

“Mostly that the staff and personnel here are like the flagship itself: retrofitted to a new purpose; also, everyone with the 9th is a veteran one way or another.”


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"Good. We'll have it moved to your quarters aboard the Erebus right away." Rolf tucked the datapad under an arm before turning back towards the lift they'd descended upon. "If you find you're lacking anything, let me know personally and we'll get taken care of. After you." he added. As they shot upwards the inertial dampeners seemed to function a little bit better. "Your affairs are in order?" he asked, the answer would likely be automatic. "You'll want to see her no doubt?" his eyes feinted upwards, a twitch of a smile appearing at the corners of his lips. Despite the grind of preparation and the formalities, it was good to be back in the saddle. The new XO was a bit of a curveball but to the veteran stormtrooper, if that was the least of his worries he was flying high. Besides, he noted, she seemed competent enough.

-

FIV Erebus | Ventral Hangar
The short shuttle ride from the surface to where the Erebus was moored had passed, uneventful. Small talk about the ship, her capabilities, and the overall philosophy of the 9th Fleet had carried them free of any awkward silences. A small miracle. Reintegration had gone fairly easily, though several key organizational structure differences had confounded Rolf at first. No doubt a small difficulty for the woman beside him, in a way they were both orphans of an old order now fostered into it's successor.

Upon disembarking the command shuttle several uniformed officers approached neatly and in formation, crisp salutes following as Rolf and Sybil stepped off the ramp. "At ease." Rolf commanded, turning over his shoulder to the Major. "This is my XO, Major Shepard. Major, heads of staff for the Erebus." Rolf quickly rattled off their names, ranks, and positions, followed by dismissing them. "Admiral Strasse is indisposed at the moment but if you'd like I can show you the Erebus' garrison. Otherwise, if there's any other areas of the ship you'd like to see we have run of the place. That reminds me.." he trailed off, reaching into a black leather pouch at his belt. "Your code cylinder." It was antiquated technology, a holdover from the refit. A curious benefit was that it seemed to be more secure than a lot of modern technology. It had drawbacks, sure, but what you lost in efficiency you gained in security - and for the Erebus and the Ninth Fleet that was just fine. "That'll get you access to just about everything excepting the Admiral's quarters and the self destruct system. You're familiar with the Cylinder tech?"

Taking a few steps forward he angled towards the main corridor leading out of the ventral hangar. "We also need to make a stop to the fabrication shop, it's right next to the armory." He had a specific purpose in mind, though he would save that surprise for later. Right now it was up to the Major as to where she'd like to go first.

 

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So many procedures, such dichotomy between the old and new: fresh purpose, old tech. Shepard found herself appreciating the relaxed attitude in which everyone seemed to conduct themselves in —though this may be more a result from the extreme hardship this unit was founded from. She briefly wondered how much the Colonel knew about her stationing aboard this vessel, and her mission with EmEyeZero. Actually, she was starting to wonder if this duty station was more a way to sweep her away from the core of the First Order and push out to an expeditionary role.

If so. Good. It was time to do some real work with veterans of Dosuun, Skye, and Bakura instead of mopping up the excesses from the agency. With this in mind, the Major accepted her code cylinder with a nod and pocketed it for safekeeping.

“Yes sir. A relic like this is fitting for a relic like myself. Hah.” The side of her mouth curled up in a smirk, but she also stowed that when the other officers failed to connect her statement with anything resembling mirth. Alas. Next time.

“Colonel Amsel, would it be possible to visit my sleeping quarters? Instinct tells me to always start a tour with the bedroom —err… purely to see where I’m bunking. Sir.”


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Rolf for his part was amused. "I think we're going to get along together quite well Major. Relics have their uses." Taking a breath he addressed her inquiry. "Yes, of course." Leading the way, Rolf waved off any escorts. It wasn't as if they couldn't find their way about the ship themselves. Rolf had been on the Erebus a while now, the schematics committed to memory. Of course, the Chief Engineer would know the ship better but Rolf had always endeavored to know his men, know their capabilities. There was nothing more irresponsible than ignorance. Especially in command. The Colonel ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, a sour taste of failures past threatening to surface.

The duo stalked the corridors as they made towards the Officer's quarters. Rolf for his part returned several salutes from passing officers and troopers of their battlegroup. Several mouse droids and BB units darted between the various occupants of the ISD II's corridors, the ship was busy preparing for her departure from the orbital yards above Dosuun. She'd travel with escort to Sump where the remainder of the battlegroup lay in wait - from there it would be The Colonel and Major's whim. "This way." Rolf motioned. "It might be a bit much to remember but the corridors'll feel like home in no time." he said. "You'll be glad to know there's recreational facilities on board to keep up your strength, a half decent cafeteria too though that's relative I suppose."

The colonel was out of practice and so disposed with the small talk for the remainder of their walk. Thankfully for them both it wasn't much longer before they found themselves standing before a wide hatch with a panel beside it. It was here Rolf stopped and clasped his hands behind his back. "Welcome home." Nodding towards the panel on the wall he lifted one hand. "It's bio-locked to you, the only way to override is by command cylinder - of course."

 

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Following a series of wall markers, basic data maps displayed on a terminal occasionally, and some friendly guidance by the hand of Lt. Col. Amsel, the Agent Adjutant made it to her quarters in one piece. The Cylinder now equipped functioned flawlessly, revealing a relatively spacious room furnished with everything a crew person could need while posted to a vessel. Good sized bed, cabinets and cases for storing loot, and a workstation. More than adequate. She stowed her ruck for now and returned back to her charge.

“Thank you, Sir. You mentioned the fabrication shop earlier. Shall we?”


Something weighed a little in her mind: concern on how she would manage to juggle the various responsibilities to both the state and the section assignment by Graham. There was no doubt or trepidation that following the 9th would help her get away from the worries of the Capital world and the politics within. Was there a chance this was all designed to enhance the tension or remove a potentially noisome asset?

Games. Shepard was almost sure that D. Graham was a little too fond of games.


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Rolf patiently waited at the bulkhead, tossing a nod here and there as several officers passed by - presumably on their way to the mess. Looking back towards the Major's quarters he nodded politely. "Fabrication shop, right." It took them several more minutes of walking down corridors, Rolf filling in his new XO on emergency procedures, evacuation procedures, and noting that he preferred to run drills at the most unexpected of times. "It keeps the troops on their toes." he'd said. Of course, anything involving the Naval staff would have to go through Admiral Strasse - but Rolf assured the Major that there would be no problems there. Strasse was a bit of a slave driver himself.

"Here's where the fab shops are. You're welcome to use whatever materials are on hand as the XO, however I'd ask that if we're particularly short on anything you check with me first. If your record is anything to go by, you've got common sense." That's all there was to it, almost. "Come with me." Purposefully, Rolf strode towards the back of the shop, a pressed hand against a bio-lock activating a set of sealed doors. Within, a veritable vault of weaponry, parts, and half constructed monstrosities sat unmolested upon carefully organized and sealed shelving units. Stepping inside, Rolf walked towards a small container inside one of the cubes and returned to the Major. Extending the small box at arms length, Rolf stepped backwards. "Open it." This. This was the beginning of tradition. This was the foundation upon which Rolf Amsel would rebuild his reputation. "Consider this a badge of honor, a symbol of the 9th."

Inside the container the Major would find a finely crafted vibroblade, the utmost attention to detail carved into its hilt. Ad Capulum etched in acid on the blade. "Only members of the 9th wear this blade and while it may appear decorative - I assure you, it is not merely an accoutrement.

 

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Like a present on Life Day, the box was quickly unfurled.

The good Colonel wasn’t lying, this discovered by the Adjutant while testing the heft of the gifted weapon —from shifting the blade from the right side of her wrist to the left and back again, concentrating on a slow jab to twirling the knife once, twice, thrice until switching from saber hold to a reserve grip.

A pleasant light of happiness touched the woman’s eyes, not stoked on by her expertise with a weapon, but by the pure positivity so embraced when a fine boon has been bestowed. Of course, this was over a knife, so there was always that slight unsettling edge; that sinking feeling one might feel when they gave something that may be just a little too dangerous to a child. At any rate, her thoughts scanned unknowable as she seemed to lose herself with such ease in the moment.

That little smile and light faded as the blade was sheathed and held loosely within her left hand.

“Sir, I hope I earn this badge and your trust over the coming months.” She hazarded a gaze into the eyes of the legendary soldier, shepherded back to active duty by the guidance of the Supreme Leader. “When will our first assignment come?”


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"I'm sure you will." Rolf reassured the Major. "As to your question, we already have them." Glancing briefly at the Major, and then the door he motioned ahead. "I'll show you the preliminary reports on our AO, we've already scouted them and drawn up a warning order but I'd love to have a new set of eyes on." It wasn't the Rolf was rusty exactly, but the new force under his command was just that - new. For the longest time Rolf had served with veterans of Kaeshana, Hoth, Mustafar, the list went on. The Ninth employed some from their number but they also had greenies, young men and women still wet behind the ears and thusly their tactics would have to be grounded in universal terms, not nuance of their former battles.

It took them several more minutes to get to the bridge of the Erebus, a crisp salute rendered to the pair as they disappeared into an ante-room that doubled as an Officer's Briefing chamber. "Display Briefing Aurek Seven. Authorization Amsel-Besh-Niner." he said. A soft chime sounded, an electronic voice echoing in reply. "Confirmed. Displaying Briefing Aurek Seven."

Before the two officers, CO and XO, a three dimensional hologram appeared. At its center, a spinning blue ball. Vengler the readout showed. "It's at the edge of First Order space." Rolf said. "Not a particularly significant planet in the grand scheme of things but we've been tasked with a somewhat delicate task. Are you familiar with Scitrok Warriors?" he asked the Major. Pulling up another screen he highlighted a few of the key points, one of which was their weapon of choice. "They get their name from their weapon - a jagged blade not too dissimilar to a scimitar." A few holostills of the monks and their weapons scrolled past. "Reports suggest that there's been a schism of sorts and a band of these Scitrok have begun terrorizing the small colonial port near the equator." Another holostill of the planet appeared, a grainy image of the spaceport in question appearing.

"Normally the Ninth would prefer to simply swoop in and mop them all up but current directives prevent overtly aggressive action on our part." he frowned. "Eggheads on the Moff Council of course. What we've been assigned is more of a diplomatic mission but due to the aggressive nature of this new band of monks and the inherent dangers it's been left to you and I." Rolf gently rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I think it's best we go in small, park the Erebus on the far side of the planet and shuttle in. As for security we'd typically spring big for something this dangerous but in that respect - less is more. In fact, I'd argue that should we be able to, we acquire our own means of transportation. We don't want them to think we're coming to assimilate them. What're your thoughts?"

 

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