The Grey
Kyli DT-6767
Takodana, Banshee-851 Dropship/Gunship
Equipment:
- Blackwing Electro-Sword
- FastTurn-3 Hydrospanner
- G-6E Light Repeating Blaster
- Mark/VII DARKSABER [DELTA] Advanced Powered Combat Armour
- Plasma Torch
- Stuncuffs
- Type-51 Special Application Rifle/Advanced
"Remember we'll be moving together and maintaining radio silence for the Operation's entire duration, hand-signals and verbal orders only, exercise adequate noise discipline." Pulling rank on the Cargo Bay's other occupants casually she manually opens her ubiquitous weapons' heat-sinks and inspects them closely and every quarter of a minute adjusts the Scope's sight with great care and precision, attempting to hone it for lethal accuracy betraying the woman's underlying paranoia and perfectionism. Swinging her left forearm-around to the seat beside presenting it boldly to Luther Ando exposing a small opening that revealed some modest IV port in the armour, she'd experienced a nearly-fetal incident with an anti-tank mine recently and been so injured that the effects had actually penetrated the Supersoldier's beyond resilient pain tolerance. "Andie, Bacta stim." Kyli demanded cooly being comfortable with nobody more aboard the Banshee Dropship than one of her own team whose' presence was akin to that of a family members in its' ability to soothe stress and anxiety that the Death Trooper outwardly exhibited with a constant fidgeting within the safety of her seat. As the Banshee drew closer to its' landing the cargo ramp steadily drops down sucking in a terribly cold chill up through its' cargo hold, enough to cut through the Environmental Control System for but a moment forcing Kyli's body to sacrifice a quick shiver, muscles around spine contract and then spasm unpleasantly. Kyli waits patiently for Luther to release that Bacta stim into her veins so that the grisly injuries sustained and concealed beneath hundreds of kilograms of steel armour might heal with greater expediency. Obtaining the temperature with but a thought the number in degrees celsius was displayed on the helmet-mounted display against the silvery visor that partitioned the smooth skin of her face protecting it from the ghastly chill. "It's cold out there, bring your thermals?" Kyli jests dryly to Luther and anybody else who could hear the Sardonic humour offered up by the Death Trooper, releasing an acerbic chuckle.
[member="Luther Ando"] [member="Rexus Wenck"] [member="Sun Xia"] [member="BE-183"] [member="FN-2826"]