Un-named mission.

[AC-3168]

A simple black TIE/sf fighter screams through space at high speeds. A New Order trooper sits in the pilot’s seat, wearing completely black armor, two thick breathing tubes leading into it’s mask. The armor was slim, and was definitely of a newer model. The cabin was lit with a dim, red light. It was surprisingly quiet inside of the fighter, except for a few moments such as turning of adjusting the speed. They were keeping a steady pace at the current moment. The interior was sleek and full of buttons and switches and screens, all monitoring different parts of the ship. There was a second seat behind the pilot’s seat, the gunner’s seat. There were much less panels there, and it was what one would expect from a gunner’s cabin.

The pilot of the vessel spoke in a vo-coded tone, sounding similar to that of a regular Stormtrooper, including the Imperial accent. “Five minutes until arrival.” She speaks into a radio built into her helmet, usually used to contact other pilots, but for now it was being used to speak with her guest in the gunner’s seat. They were travelling through dangerous territory, so the pilot, AC-3168, had to be careful of her surroundings. An asteroid field was orbiting the planet which she was aiming to land on, and she had to pull some maneuvers to get through without damages. It had started to get thicker and thicker the deeper the TIE fighter went..

 

[Tanith Alde]

[member="AC-3168"]

"Stay on course" The Imperial Ghost said in the same detached tone she always spoke in. Space flight had never been her favored method of travel, she despises anything that she could not control completely. And while one might argue a fighter was very sensitive to one's reactions and it became an extension of one's body It was -not- one's body. One's body could be toned and worked to a peak, one could know exactly what it would do in all situations. For a vehicle, like the Tie they were in now, no such claims could be made. Vehicles were prone to any number of problems, from unexplained technical glitches, to full on systems failure. Such things did not need to be worried about when one , say for example walked. But alas one could not walk the Distance that Ghost needed to travel, and so using an old imperial favorite, black mail, she had requisitioned herself a pilot.

As they descended toward the planet Ghost checked over her equipment, everything was of course in order. Her bodysuit, it's small amount of reinforced armor plates and such were all intact. Her rifle had been disassembled and reassembled countless times during the flight, and was currently assembled and layed across her legs. Everything was, to coin the Navy's term, ship-shape. "Bring us in to the coordinates N - 67 , W-42 " She spokes over her commlink, her milky white skin tinted red by the tie's interior lighting

[member="AC-3168"]

 

[AC-3168]

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

The black fighter approaches the planet very quickly, slowing down and zooming over the arid terrain. Something large and hard would slam into the bottom right wing of the TIE fighter, making the fighter spin around 90 degrees, and also create a large dent on the wing, leaving the TIE fighter to spiral down onto the planet below. Luckily, due to AC-3168's advanced piloting skills, the transport vessel was successfully landed, but not without any damage. The right wing would need some repair to be able to fly straight again, at least without tilting down. The pilot would unstrap herself from her seat and grab the emergency sidearm underneath the far right control panel on her fighter. A sleek, completely black version of the SE-44C blaster pistol, standard issue for the First Order.

She slowly opens the top hatch of the fighter, peeking her head out before hopping out of the cramped interior, sitting on top of the fighter's cockpit, waiting for the other woman she was told to escort to come out, pistol in her right hand. With her left hand, she would attempt to unscrew the two black breathing tubes from her helmet, allowing fresh air to come into her mask. Much better the the recycled air used for piloting. She'd speak on the commlink. "We're close." She'd state, looking up into the sky. "We've been hit by something." AC-3168 hops off of the TIE fighter, landing on her feet as she goes to inspect the large dent in the wing. "Something big."

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

[member="AC-3168"]

Ghost rose up immediately from her meditative-esque kneeling. She nimbly stood and clambered out of the downed fighter, rifle slung over her shoulder. She landed neatly, making not a sound, though that was to be expected with the sand they landed on. She stood for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the glaringly bright sun before she took stock of the situation around her. It would appear they had crashed quite a few miles from their intended destination, but no matter. Ghost would see her mission carried out. She did silently curse the sun though, She seemed to always be lucky enough to be wearing the black latex-like bodysuit whenever she was deployed to a dessert world. "Report pilot, are you functional?" She asked calmly, now finally turning her attention the the craft's original fighter pilot.

She appreciated the curt, simple and descriptive assesment of the situation the woman gave her . "It would appear so indeed. We will walk then" She said, stepping toward the direction of the comms station, her heels leaving deep prints in the sand behind her. Her eyes appeared dissinterested, almost tired, but they were constantly aware of everything infront of her, as she kept a careful eye out for the slightest sign of danger. Of course, one had to be very trained to notice that, to the casual onlooker she appeared to be a bored woman with a rifle slung over her shoulder, little more

[member="AC-3168"]

 

[AC-3168]

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

The armor-clad figure would nod, sliding underneath the TIE fighter to check for more damages. "I need to return here at a later date." She says. "Hopefully after I escort you." She would slide out from underneath the fighter, quickly getting to her feet, blaster in hand once more. She was a terrible shot, and she knew that. She just couldn't get better, no matter how hard she tried. It was a good thing that she chose the Navy instead of the Ground forces. She would walk behind the assassin, not really wishing to ask her any questions. It wasn't her business. Her business was to listen to her superiors, and that's exactly what she was doing. She'd report the aircraft in later, it was not an extremely pressing matter.

A bit of sand covered the two visors on her mask, which she promptly wiped off with her left hand, not willing to let go of her precious blaster. She was told during training that it was the most important thing in her life, at least if she crashed. So she was going to treat it that way. She couldn't see the comms station from where she was, but she suspected that it would be a long while until it comes into sight, anyway.

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

[member="AC-3168"]

As she had strongly assumed it would happen, barely fifteen minutes later Ghost spotted movement. She had assumed that whatever had knocked them out of the sky would come searching for them, and it appers she had been right. Looking back on it she realized what hit the tie must have been a cuncussion missle launched from a shoulder ready rocket launcher, not that that information was truly of any value. "You may wish to seek cover" Was her only comment to the pilot, before she dropped to to one knee, sighted her rifle on the weequay and fired. The Weequay in question's skull exploded in a pleasingly red mist, and his friends came charging in after him moments later.

And so begann a deadly routine, one man or woman would crest the hill, and a corpse would tumble down to the end of it. This all didn't even cause the raising of an eyebrow for the chariatably stoic sniper. When the work was finished she stood once more and continued marching, stepping over corpses as if they were simple stains she didn't wish to scuff her boots with. She turned to look at her pilot "Are you coming? Or shall I leave you here?" Even the biting question she gave had no bite to it, as it was delivered in the Imperial Ghost's trademark calm tone, utterly devoid of passion.

[member="AC-3168"]

 

[AC-3168]

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

The pilot was definately not expecting anything to be living on this planet, due to how much sand there was, and how little of.. everything else there was. The trooper did nothing to help the sniper, as she assumed that she had it all under control. She wasn't that interested in how the rather stupid creatures died, she was interested in their technology, though. It was rather primitive stuff, too. The weapons were rather similar to that of a Tusken Raider's Cycler.

"I haven't brought you to your destination. I will come." She simply states, waving her pistol in the way of the Comms station. Or, at least, where she thought the comms station was. She wasn't sure, in all honesty. But the sniper seemed to know where to go. She wasn't used to maneuvering around planets, at least on foot. Perhaps she'd learn a thing or two from her encounters?

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

[member="AC-3168"]

If the Assassin had expected any other kind of response from her Pilot she certainly did not indicate it. Instead she quietly nodded and lead her off toward the comms station, she had memorize'd where it stood as they were coming down. Being able to remember things like locations and landmarks came in very useful for her profession as a trained marksman and sniper. Often her job took her deep into hills, valleys , jungles and desserts with little ways of by what one could orient themselves, it was a skill she had developed over many long years of service to the Imperium.

Service...Servitude...It hardly seemed like that anymore to her. Had she chafed under her rules at the start? She believed she had, most did. Yet she could not remember it. She could remember little that didn't pertain to her current situation in recent times, though it didn't bother her. Nothing could bother her anymore it seemed, which the notion in and of itself should have done just that. But she was devolving into hypotheticals, best to focus on the present. The present for her involved a very uncomfortable march, in a very tight black bodysuit, across a very hot and sun filled planet. The results were not pleasant

[member="AC-3168"]

 

[AC-3168]

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

The black-armor clad trooper marched behind the assassin, pistol in hand. She was tired, and vaguely interested in her surroundings, occasionally turning her head from side to side to see if there was anything other than sand and the occasional rock. There wasn't, at least not yet. She grunted, flicking the safety of her pistol on and off, keeping it pointed at the ground. She was also a little nervous. She wasn't familiar with being on a planet, not at all. The only planet she had been on was her homeworld, and that was 15 years ago. She didn't even remember being there, she had only heard stories from the man who had brought her into the Order, a man who she considered to be her father.

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

[member="AC-3168"]

The Assassin showed far less interest in her sorrounding, foccused instead on a single minded goal, that of reaching the relay station manay click away. She probably could have reached it by herself, if she didn't have to worry about other. She sighed and brought their march to a hold behind the shade of a sane dune "You may rest, but make it quick" She said, placing her rifle on the ground and leaning on it as she now finally looked around. Such inneficience..Humans....

[member="AC-3168"]

 

[AC-3168]

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

"I'm not going to rest." the pilot grumbles, trudging on. She needed to follow her orders, which was to escort this strangely dressed woman into some sort of station. She could head out when that was finished. She did not dare to sit down, staring at the horizon. "We continue." She states. She'd get the rest she needs when this bullpoodoo is over with. She slides her pistol into a holster on her hip, and she'd continue their trek, walking off into the distance. For some reason, this woman made her feel strange, and not in a good way. She was dangerous. The desert was becoming much more flat, and what appears to be a small village lays ahead. Primitive huts stood, along with a couple bantha, but no residents in sight.

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

[member="AC-3168"]

Scarlet's lips slowly formed into a smirk as she saw the village. Maybe they would have time for just a little bit of fun before they left. She touched her fingers to her belt, where the det tape was. She could more than likely cauze some havoc among the popolous. She marched alongside the Pilow toward the village, not seeming weary in the slightest despite her prolonged exposure to the dessert's heat

[member="AC-3168"]

 

[AC-3168]

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

They would reach a halt in the middle of the village, where she looked around at the many primitive huts. Someone appeared to be peeking out from one of the huts. Another group of Weequay, all uneducated and most likely lived here for their whole life. Well, unless the villagers crashed here on a ship. Either way, they were quite stupid. One by one, the Weequay would surround the ground, being about one hundred of them, all surrounding them and looking at their armor. A couple of the children have long sticks, which they would poke the two with.

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

[member="AC-3168"]

"Pilot. You may want to find cover" Ghost recommended again, as she made a sharp downward slashing movement with her left arm. The gauntlet snapped forward, sharp claw blades spiking out of the top of it. With her left she reached to her belt, and removed a long, black rod from it, with a single button on it. She pressed it, and a crimson blade extended out from it "The fun may beginn" She said calmly, as she suddenly sprinted forward, slashing and maiming her way through the mob one at a time, her mind overcome with joy while her visage remained impassive

[member="AC-3168"]

 

[AC-3168]

( Double post. )

 

[AC-3168]

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]

The pilot jumps down onto the ground to avoid being cut as she watches the insane woman cut through hordes of innocents without a problem. Why was she assigned to this mission? She was starting to get suspicious of this woman, whom she had no problem with before. She kept her hand on her blaster, crawling out behind a house. Most of the civilian population was killed, but the rest managed to run back into their homes, the pilot working with her blaster pistol to make sure it was able to fire at a moment's notice. A small mountain would be seen in the distance, and behind them would be a large cloud of dust, slowly heading towards them. It was like a wall. A sandstorm, and a large one, too. "I suggest we start moving!" She'd shout out towards the assassin, hands at her side with pistol in hand.

[member="Scarlet Ghost"]