Shaman Chill
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Stay frosty, my friends!
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Post by Shaman Chill on Mar 31, 2016 21:42:16 GMT -8
Raxus Prime was an industrial world, packed with toxic debris. Considered the junkyard of the galaxy, the world was covered in scrap of all kinds, making it excellent for scavengers who dared venture into the world.
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Alpharius
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Affiliation: The Rebel Alliance
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Post by Alpharius on Apr 4, 2016 16:39:20 GMT -8
Location: Raxus Prime, Tion Cluster.
Operation: Junkyard Blitz
Phase: One
Chronometer Count: Fifteen Days since Alliance congregation over Mon Calamari.
As the fires of Rebellion had secretly spread across the Galaxy, a small team of soldiers and technicians had found themselves on a mission to do the impossible. They were tasked with filling the Alliance's navy with whatever vessels they could find, and as other agents were activated on their missions throughout the known universe, this team had found itself within the heart of the Tion Cluster - digging through the trash in hopes of finding something serviceable.
Sergeant Cash Barris, formerly of the Republic Military and who had unceremoniously been placed in charge of this errant venture, yanked a rusted ochre plate of ravaged durasteel from the mound of trash before him, only to toss it to the side mere seconds later. Of all the places they could've come, the Circlet of the Tion had to be their destination. Sure, they'd find plenty of parts upon this world, from all around the galaxy, yet what he didn't like was that he was forced to dig with his team down in the dirt in order to find them.
It had been nearly a week since the team had rendezvoused from their various planetary insertions, and already they were making some progress. At first, the group was assaulted by wave after wave of Junk Droids, automatons that had pieced themselves together from the wreckage strewn about, and who had developed a hatred for their former masters (Which had then extended to their species and then organic life in general.) After several grueling hours of deadly skirmishes and firefights, the Junk droids were driven off by some other droids that seemed far more friendly than those that had been there before.
The first contact with this group had been trying, as they spoke a broken form of binary that no-one seemed to understand. So the translation software in their rebreathers had taken almost twice as long to stitch together what they said. However, one of the men under Cash Barris' command had diplomatically diverted their rising ire by saying that their inferior tech had difficulty in rendering their 'advanced' speech in such a primitive manner. That was a smart move, as it fueled the technological pride of the droids before them and made them more willing to wait for explanations as the software worked overtime to translate each other's messages.
When they were done communicating, the more amiable Junk Droids had understood why the Organics had come to this world and knew that to get them off it - they would have to accomplish their task. Something about a sentient emotion categorized as Stubbornness. Nevertheless, after hours of waiting and conversing, the two groups had begun working together to finish what they started. Within the week it had taken to reach the present, nearly two dozen Ugly Starfighters had been complete - each bearing their own various classifications to suit just what the hell had gone into making them.
They weren't the finest that Incom or Sienar could offer, but they would fly, and that's all they needed to do for now. Getting them off the ground and putting them into the skies was merely the first of many tasks that would need to be done to get these junkers into the fight. The rest involved tests and routine maintenance - along with replacing whatever parts failed during their combat simulations. So much work had to be done in order to combat this rising Imperial threat, and yet here he was digging up scraps to make a Starfighter.
What a galaxy we live in... |
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 11, 2017 11:28:09 GMT -8
Even though the initial expedition had achieved their goal, teams were still scouring the world for serviceable vessels. The Alliance was growing in power, and new vessels were being produced at shipyards across the galaxy. But sometimes it paid to have more covert methods of travel. A trashed transport could more easily cross an Imperial border than a new corvette. Other times, an older vessel could be more expendable when laying a trap. Everything had a use, and Salvage Team Delta was one such team whose job it was to find and assess crashed wreckages. The team consisted of a half dozen techs, with twice as many infantry. Raxus Prime was a lawless world, meaning that scavengers were allowed to deal with competition using lethal force. Alliance salvage teams were not immune to such treatment.
It was a day like any other, as Salvage Team Delta entered yet another wreck. It was an older vessel, and judging by the make and model, it dated back several years. The security team got to work clearing the vessel, as the techs got to work assessing the cleared areas. It took a half hour for the security team to give the all clear, allowing the techs to more freely examine the ship. For the most part, it seemed as though the vessel was in good shape. A few patch jobs here and there to fix the armor. But otherwise, everything seemed to be in a low power state. Though, read outs seemed to indicate that a large amount of power was going to a cryo chamber aboard the ship.
The commander of Delta Team wasted no time calling in a medical team, which arrived a few moments later. They pryed open the doors to the cryo room, before the medical team got to work setting their equipment up, checking on the status of each suspended subject. Once they confirmed that there was no compromised containers, the medical team set about waking everyone up, with teams ready to retrieve each person as they were released from their chambers. After all, they had no idea how long these soldiers had been asleep for, and they would need medical care for at least a couple days
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 12, 2017 5:10:01 GMT -8
The medical team chose to wake up the one who looked like the leader first. A few buttons were pressed to the side and the carbon slowly started to melt. As the seconds went by, a metallic black armor started to appear through the random melted areas of the carbonite. More stuff was revealed as the carbon melted away: a few grenades, a couple of pistols, and an assault rifle became visible over time. As soon as the carbon melted, the pitch black helmet gave off a light-blue color from the T-visor before the armored soldier fell to the ground face-first with a loud bang.
The medical team looked at the soldier who laid still on the ground. They then checked for his vitals and reported that it was normal.
Suddenly, the soldier started gasping and coughing and then helped himself off the ground into a kneeling position. He couldn't see who was in front of him. He could only see shadows. "Stupid carbonite side-effects." He mumbled to himself.
"Who's out there?! What year is it?!" He asked, remembering the shadows of the bodies he saw.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 12, 2017 10:08:02 GMT -8
Doctor Helmsley was the lead physician of the medical team, and helped seat the man on a nearby stretcher. Who ever froze these men, must have been mad to do so whilst they were still wearing their weapons. Carbonite Freezing was a dangerous enough process. She knelt in front of the man then, shining a pen light across his eyes, whilst also examining his armour for any rank insignia
"Please remain calm Lieutenant. My name is Doctor Lisa Helmsley, and the rough year is around about one hundred and forty, A B Y. I'd give you a more exact date, but life has been pretty hectic as of late. I need to run some tests now, ok? I need you to state your name and what the last thing was that you remember happening?"
She had taken a bit of a gamble telling the man the rough year, but the situation did not quite call for proper procedure. Her team was already working on waking up the rest of the soldiers, and she had a feeling they would all be armed like the Lieutennt was. And if that was the case, she needed to gain the mans trust, so that he and his men wouldn't accidentally fire on anyone. Cryo sleep had a lot of nasty after effects, and a disoriented soldier could hurt himself and others unless a voice of reason and trust was present
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 12, 2017 13:19:53 GMT -8
The armored soldier looked blankly at the shadow who was talking to him. He heard what was being said to him but he was slowly processing it.
"Drez. My name is Drez. I have no idea what you mean by 140 ABY or when that is."
Drez tried feeling his surroundings to get an idea of where he could be. All he could feel was rough surface and some sand. He placed a hand on his helmet, covering the visor.
"The last place I was at was Kamino. My squad was tasked with training clones who were part of an uprising on Kamino against the Empire, which was about 10 years after the end of the Clone Wars. As you might've guessed, the Empire came and wiped almost all of us out. The clones, the Kaminoans, all of us. Only a few of us survived: a bounty hunter, my squad, and a few clones."
He removed his hand off his visor and looked up. The painfully memory hurt Drez. All he could remember was bodies everywhere. He knew they had to get out of there and there was nothing they could do about the fallen brothers.
"My squad and the clones were frozen in carbonite to be preserved until the time to fight the Empire was right. Say, where am I exactly and where are the others?"
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 12, 2017 21:17:59 GMT -8
Doctor Helmsley was glad that the man still remembered his own name. It also would allow her to better address him. And when time permitted, someone would be better able to look up his service record if it existed. Though, the mans next reply meant that it would be hard to verify his identity, and also indicated why he had no idea what 140 ABY meant. It wasn't until after the first Death Star had been destroyed that the ABY and BBY denominations were used. And if Drez was describing what she thought he was, then he and his men had been put asleep almost 12 years before the change over. Lisa looked over as the rest of the medics were watching the other soldiers slowly coming out of carbonite, before turning to look back at Drez
"A B Y. It stands for After the Battle of Yavin. And if I'm correct, you're describing the Kamino Uprising. Which was twelve years before Yavin. Lieutenant, you've been asleep for almost a hundred and fifty years..."
it was certainly quite the bombshell to drop on the man, but she couldn't exactly just leave it there. She owed him more answers to the questions he had asked
"I'm happy to report that the empire fell almost a hundred years ago... Although, we now face a new threat... but I'll tell you more about that later. For now, I can tell you that you're on Raxus Prime. And your men are still being woken up... they're going to need you to keep them calm lieutenant. For as long as you've all been asleep, your carbonite sickness can be vary negative. And I'd rather no one accidentally starts shooting each other, ok?"
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 13, 2017 11:38:23 GMT -8
Drez moaned at the thought of being back on Raxus Prime. “Back on this backwater planet again? Why can’t I ever be on a tropical planet like Scarif? I need a vacation you know.”
His focus then turned to the shock of learning that he was frozen in carbonite for about 150 years had hit him so hard he had to hit himself a few times in the head to make sure what he heard was right. It occurred to him at that moment that the people he served before being frozen were all long gone. He wasn’t even sure yet if he was the only survivor of the group that made it off of Kamino or not.
“Those stormtroopers were no where near good enough as the clones so it isn't a surprise to me that the Empire fell.” He remarked at the fall of the Empire as his vision started coming back to him and he became less and less disoriented.
He then remembered the survivors of the uprising. “Am I the only one left?” He asked with a tone that hinted at desperation.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 18, 2017 8:04:19 GMT -8
Lisa continued to monitor the Lieutenant's vital signs as they conversed. He seemed to be holding steady as they talked and he came to terms with everything that was happening. She smiled a little as Drez remarked that he felt the Clone Army was superior to the Stormtrooper Corp. It was an opinion she disagreed with for certain, but not something she was going to get into a debate with him over
"We all need a vacation. But war's do not rest. We must all march on, to protect those who cannot protect themselves..."
Lisa then turned to watch as medics started helping the rest of Drez's men out of their sleep, setting them down on nearby bunks and conducting medical examinations on them
"Looks like you're not the only one who was crazy enough to survive the sleep..."
She then pointed and used her other hand to guide his head towards where the rest of his men were
"Seems you'll still have some friends left, Lieutenant. Though, there are new friends to be made in this day and age, who could certainly use your help..."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 19, 2017 11:38:55 GMT -8
"Just get them on the ship off this backwater planet before they come to their senses and they won't try resisting." Drez told the doctor. "Where do we start?"
Drez's eyesight finally adjusted and he could see his surroundings. He found all his equipment intact, much to his amuse.
"Are these weapons still effective now?" He wondered. He wasn't a fan of the idea of not using the weapons he used for so long anymore. It was like he had a bond with them.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 19, 2017 12:55:10 GMT -8
"Very well Lieutenant... You heard him, get them moving!"
The closest Soldier nodded, before working to get the medics moving the rest of Drez's men as they were thawed so to speak. Lisa then stood up and offered her hand to help Drez stand up, as he inspected his weapon and asked what came next
"There's a lot to bring you up to speed on Lieutenant. But once we get you all back to Mon Calamari, everything will be explained to you in full. As for your weapons... We'll get some techs to check them all out and make sure they all still work. If so, they should still be fine. Otherwise we can hook you up with some close replacements."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 21, 2017 12:39:58 GMT -8
Drez grabbed the doctor's hand a stood up.
"Good. I need to go for a swim." He grunted before walking out the ship behind the disoriented soldiers. He remembered something so he turned around and pointed at a trunk.
"That trunk is full of DC-15 rifles and carbines. Bring it with us if you may."
He then placed a hand softly on the shoulder of the disoriented female warrior before doing it for the rest of the clones and his squad.
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Post by Keith-070 on Feb 2, 2018 19:39:55 GMT -8
*Raxus Prime was the last location Keith expected his talents to be utilized. He was already upset he had seen less action than he'd hoped on Naboo, but now he was on salvage duty? It had been a special request from the Liannan military, believing his strength would be useful in digging through the junk and unearthing the more valuable scrap for use at Lianna's shipyards. To some, this would be flattering, but to Keith, it was a waste of his talents. Let alone the fact that now the two warring sides had reached a stalemate, and he hadn't so much as seen a true fight.
Admittedly, however, it was far preferential to simply standing around on Lianna doing essentially nothing but waiting. So reluctantly he'd accepted, leading an armed scavenging team to scour the wastes, all armed with breathing masks to help ventilate the toxic atmosphere of the dump world. Keith had his own ventilators to protect him as he led the team through the world, overturning scraps and junk for the salvagers to look over. If deemed useful, they would call in a shuttle to ferry the scrap back to the freighter that carried them here before they would continue on, on occasion fending off some of the odd local wildlife.
It was the most action Keith had seen in too long.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 22, 2018 17:42:44 GMT -8
"Why the heck are we back on this planet? We've been here for at least a dozen times." Vorik complained, throwing his arms in the air.
"Well the first time was because it we had to find the Force Harvester. Second time we were in stasis." Izmar replied. "Either way, we were never here by our will."
Indeed, the troopers have never been on Raxus Prime by their will. They were sent there with other ground forces to try to retrieve the Force Harvester before it falls in enemy hands, which it ultimately did but was never used against them. Only Drez had seen it's raw power by his own eyes, and his description of the weapon made everyone glad they were never in the way of it. Jacky had stayed behind to guard their shuttle while the trio set out to acquire anything useful.
"This time, we're here to salvage parts we know. There are old AT-TEs and AT-XTs near the old battlesite. Maybe if we're lucky, they're still 'operational'." Drez said as he tried to cool the tension. He also had in mind to find the shuttle they were found in stasis on and acquire a Jedi holocron hidden on board.
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Post by Voon Ostrenis-Massa on Jan 20, 2020 4:26:47 GMT -8
"Everybody wearings masks and armor?"
"Yes, sir"
"Alright, let's move"
They left the ship through the lowered ramp, blasters at the ready.
"Remember, no matter if we are close to the objective -or should be, at least- have your blasters prepared and keep both eyes open"
All were wearing some kind of tactical suit, many of them former Galactic Alliance-issued uniforms. The breathing masks were mandatory in the contaminated atmosphear of Raxus Prime. The Resistance's fighters flew overhead; the A-wings using their scanners and sensors.
"Senator, nothing ahead. Proceed to point B"
Voon Ostrenis-Massa had heard -in the hallways of the Senate- how decomissioned frigates and corvettes were sent to a specific sector in Raxus' huge junkyard. Now, they hoped to gain one of those ships for the Resistance, cause they hardly had the firepower to do anything but fly around hopelessly. The Jan Dodonna was a fine ship, but couldn't trade blows with larger ships; in one of those fights, they would be irredeemably lost. What the senator hoped is that there would be a frigate they could still fly and that wasn't completely derelict or salvaged by scavengers; jawas were fast and crafty at disassembling whole ships. And there were worse things lurking and dwelling below the garbage mountains. The Resistance crew walked slowly through the junk fields, scaring few predators with warning blaster fire. They had to avoid a dangerous toxic fume and an acidic lagoon. Some time later, though, they had almost reached destination and scouts were sent to check the perimeter.
"No threats"
"Good, let's go"
The senator, just in case, holstered the blaster on his hip, while the troopers made a surrounding screen around him. They entered what seemed a former Galactic Alliance junkyard: there were empty control towers and an abandoned facility, all still bearing the rising Phoenix of the fallen government. There were piles of junk, but also decommissioned ships in orderly, or formerly orderly, rows. Old Z-95s, crippled T-wings, several X-wing and Y-wings models, the carcass of a K-wing.
"Check those fighters there, you two. The rest, check the facility, once it's clean, beacon the Dodonna"
Some standard minutes later the CR-90 had landed on a clearing within the facility, once the junkyard proved to be genuinely empty and free of threats. The ground crew of engineers then landed and started working on whatever they could get their hands on. The senator, in the meanwhile, was discussing with Tumanis, the Quarren pilot and Voon's friend, the possibilities of the frigates and corvettes present. According to scans there were several incomplete Nebulon B's, including a medical frigate which was, saldy, completely salvaged and derelict. The corpses of two CC-9600 frigates laid in a mountain of twisted and broken metal. There were many old Corellian ships, including DP-20s, CR-90s, CR-70s and almost all their ilk, but, alas, none of them would cross the stars ever again.
"I think there're only two or, maybe, three ships we should check"
The Quarren tentacles twirl, excited at the prospect of finding something still space-worthy.
"This Assault frigate here"
He pointed at the ship in the holomap provided by scanning the area. It laid between a ruined Mark II and half a Nebulon B.
"The dreadnought over... there"
"Aha"
The old ship, widely used in earlier Galactic wars was sturdy enough to have survived its stay on the junkyard, plus it required only a small crew.
"And... this Nebulon C. The only with markings still visible, it was a ship which was decommissioned after the decentralization of the military, it used to be part of Commenor's planetary defense fleet"
"Alright, let's get to work"
The Assault frigate was a huge disappointment, since the ship was a powerful cruiser, but it lacked all the propulsor systems and they had no ways to replace all the lost machinery, including large sections of the engines exhausts. The Tarsunt chief engineer deemed it a lost cause. Next, came the dreadnought, the exterior was in surprising good shape, but it had been stripped of all its weapons and, surprisingly, it was mostly an empty shell. Lastly, the Nebulon C. They could enter it through a hatch on one of the lower levels. The ship seemed in shape, from what they could see at first glance.
"This hasn't been here for too long"
"Certainly, let's look for the bridge"
They had to climb, since systems were off, and use a turbolift shaft. Fortunately the troopers carried hooks and could do it in little time. They had to forcefully open the bridge, which was sealed, and required slicing through existing circuitry. Once there they started to work on the systems. The ship slowly return to life. The main systems rebooted themselves and started working: lights blinked, computers started humming and the air units slowly renovated the thick atmosphear on the inside. The consoles blinked. The ground crewsmembers checked the ship's functionality.
"The shields could function again, sir, only minor repairs needed"
"Weapons functional, but only half of the batteries, senator"
"Engines can be fired, sir. Hyperdrive surprisingly in shape"
The senator's face lit up as his officers were reporting the ship's status.
"This is it, this could work. What does it need?"
"Fuel, mostly, everything else can be fixed at base, sir"
"Excellent. Here senator to crew"
Said Voon to the Resistance members through the silvery comm on his chest.
"Gather up the salvaged remains into the CR90's cargo bay and get back to the ship. Captain Lantt, ready the Dodonna. Send fuel canisters to the Nebulon C, coordinates for the ship forwarded"
He turns to face Taridun Gornac, the Tarsunt chief engineer.
"Do we need anyone else to pilot the ship or we got everyone needed on board?"
"No-one, senator, we could fire this up as soon as it's refueled. The bridge is operational"
"Gurbo, Rago, Chavdri, escort flight mode around the Nebulon"
"Copy"
The B-wing and the couple A-wings started circling the frigate as it systems fired up. Fueld was being pumped into the deposit and the engines started to function.
"Ready for launch, sir"
Voon nodded and the engines fired up. Debris was thrown away by the strenght of the repulsors and a tract of terrain was scorched, the ship propelled itself forward, uneasy.
"Be careful now"
The senator took a seat on the bridge, on the command's chair, the crewsmembers around. Asty's B-wing blasted a junk pile obstructing the ship's route. Slowly they gained height. Few standard minutes later they were high over the junkyard, incoming communications flared on the consoles, including port authorities; they were completely disregarded. The Dodonna flew by the Nebulon's side, while the three fighters covered the front, back and left flank of the ship.
"Sir, incoming fighters, they look like pirates"
"Asty, Chavdri, Tumanis, you know what you gotta do"
"Copy"
Five uglies flew towards the escavenged frigate as it reached space. The B-wing blazed towards them, wings unfolded in attack position. Two of the pirate ships disappeared in a burst of fire in the first exchange of fire, the azure fighter dancing and delivering its impresive payload. A third was blown to bits by Tumanis' fast A-wing, while Chavdri struggled with the last two, only managing to disable one of the fighters, the last being blown by the Quarren's ably-piloted ship.
"Enter the coordinates. Prepare for hypespace"
"Done, sir"
The small flotilla took position and formed up again. The Dodonna quickly disappeared with a blink, propelled into hyperspace, while the Nebulon C took a little longer, acompanied by its meager fighter escort. Soon, the space was again empty, only the debris and the floating husk of a disable ugly fighter as witness of the Resistance's operation. Cheers acompanied the enter to hyperspace by the Nebulon. They had a frigate now, no matter it was a piece of flying junk, certainly it looked like it, but at least in was space-worthy. They could also escavenge few fighters. Ostrenis-Massa smiled as the reports came in. A small success to keep hope alive, the flame burning...
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Prophet C'thyl
Quarren Dominion
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Affiliation: Quarren Dominion
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Post by Prophet C'thyl on Sept 16, 2021 9:10:47 GMT -8
First Dark Crusade: The Hunt Like bloated ticks, few Gulomi-Class Dropships descended onto the trash-clustered surface of Raxus Prime, flanked by the better armed Bantha-class Assault Shuttles, that brought in further troops for the search.
Citizens from Jabiim, Mon Calamari and Quarren forces, other beings from aquatic worlds... the regiments were as diverse as the mutated few hulks of unknown beings, that travelled aside these organized troopers, that had been trained in similiar ways like the Stormtroopers of the old Empire.
With the attack on the Jedi convoy being successful and the enemy fleet having fallen apart, the attention of the Dominion's military forces was drawn onto those, that had survived the initial assault. According to the high command, the soldiers that were sent from the Zatarus were tasked with eliminating the survivors, given that otherwise they would find the means to contact the enemy and thus alert larger forces onto the intentions of the Dominion.
Quickly the shuttles closed and allowed the soldiers to step out, smaller groups already forming up as the robed figures of Sorcerer acolytes and their masters began to give the single squadrons the call to spread out. Somewhere nearby the burning hull of a destroyed Eta-2 Actis interceptor could be spotted, at another point an LAAT gunship had recently crashed onto the surface. The bronze rust separated the new crash sites from the old ones, as here and there the remnants of shattered Dominion fighters were also spread out across several miles.
Most of the regular officers and soldiers from the enemy Jedi had died as no normal human being could survive such a perilious landing.
Force users though had the means to defy death even in the most dire circumstances.
And neither made it most of the conscripts too thrilled, now that they had arrived at the surface of one of the galaxy's grandest junkyards. The horrors that they could potentially face were probably less worse than the horrors that they had brought themselves with them... yet those, that still questioned them didn't really dare to speak up. |
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Post by Fyefee Jaa on Sept 17, 2021 13:05:02 GMT -8
For the umpteenth time today Fyefee groaned internally. He did not care much for the mission they were on, nor did he put much stuck in this Dominion. In another life he may not have had to be here on Raxus hunting for a Jedi. In another better world the Republic would have stood against the Empire and he would not have needed to sell his skills to the highest bidder. While this was certainly better than working for his former employer this was not much better. More than all that though he was burdened with working with amateur's.
He had been told to work alongside some of the newest to commit their guns to the Dominion and the way they moved showed how inexperienced they were. Twice already they had nearly caused all their deaths by making the tunnels they walked in collapse sending hundreds of tonnes of starship and other debris dropping down upon them. Only pure happenstance had saved their lives. Of course there were several others they worked beside who knew their craft well. Pirates, Imperials who deserted, and of course the Dominions monsters. He did not see any but he knew they were there regardless. From the odd sounds they made to the screams of the survivors they caught above none could deny they were real. From what he had heard of those who had seen them he did not want to.
Above them the ground groaned and rubble fell off to their right landing in some sort of liquid metal that sputtered and smelled of so many toxic substances.
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Prophet C'thyl
Quarren Dominion
Posts: 303
Affiliation: Quarren Dominion
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Prophet C'thyl on Sept 18, 2021 1:33:49 GMT -8
Lieutenant Howard overlooked the platoon, in which Fyefee was, for a last time before he would lead the fifteen men behind him towards the dark robed figure that was sending out one of the other platoons. The Sorcerer wasn't even looking when Howard's men approached him.
"Your squadron will search the south-western perimeter, Lieutenant", the Mon Calamari beneath the robe answered dry towards the Jabiimi soldier as if the situation didn't concern him, "Take the brutes with you and remember to contact the coordinators, when you came in contact with the survivors. They're still alive..."
Somewhat angered, Howard gritted his teeth, his long face having a sour look.
"So we're just freh meat for those, that we hunt, aren't we?", he dared to speak out, looking to some portion menacing within the Dominion's dark armaplast armour, "Or will we serve as food for THOSE... things?"
Pointing over towards the four anglerfish-headed hulks of humanoid creatures, that emerged from the back of the platoon, the soldiers were greeted by the sight of blind eyes and glasslike, razorsharp teeth, some of them even having the length of daggers. A foul stench of rotten seaweed could be smelled, overlapping with the scent of old oil and forgotten rust into quite a nasty combo, while the beasts approached the Lieutenant like giant apes.
Whether they came to follow or to feast was hard to say.
If the Sorcerer heard the concerns, he didn't even react as he turned around to Howard.
"You will do as you were told, Lieutenant", he only said stern, the sound filling the ears of every soldier like a faint whisper, "May the Dark guide you all."
The Jabiimi officer looked for a brief moment as if he wanted to argue further, but after what seemed like an eternity, he eventually shook his head and lead his men the way. Most within the Platoon weren't sure what would happen now, as the brutes followed since most of the men shared the concerns of the Lieutenant. Yet that was what they were getting paid for.
Former soldiers of various regiments, assembled within a courtyard of a crumbling past. Old decaying walkers of the Galactic Republic, melted and widespread parts, that once belonged to clankers and Confederacy vessels, the bronze-chromed hulls of fallen AT-ATs and even parts of what once was considered to be a part of the Rebell Alliance fleet and the New Republic... as the platoon marched on they got a better look onto the wasteland before them.
Time was ruling this planet with an iron grip, for nothing lasted eternal among a field of a thousand debris.
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Post by Fyefee Jaa on Sept 24, 2021 14:45:37 GMT -8
If anyone had asked him Fyefee why he had sped up to walk nearer the Lieutenant he would have come up with some reason. Perhaps he would have said he wanted to discuss tactical options, or maybe he would lie and say he was a better tracker than the Lieutenant. In truth now that he had seen the hulking monstrosities he was terrified of them. Glancing over his should at them once more his stomach threatened to purge its contents.
Sir permission to speak freely? Not waiting for a response he carried on I don't know how long you have been working for the Dominion but don't do that again, for all our sakes. If any of the rumors are true you are really tempting fate. Just accept their orders, do your job, and live to fight another day.
While he was a lesser rank than Howard was he had no doubt from the way Lieutenant acted that he had served them for less of a time and he had himself. He had nearly saved up enough credits to leave this life behind and settle down on some nice backwater, and all he needed was so puffed up fool ruining that for him.
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Prophet C'thyl
Quarren Dominion
Posts: 303
Affiliation: Quarren Dominion
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Prophet C'thyl on Oct 1, 2021 4:50:06 GMT -8
The dull glare of the lieutenant's eyes revealed for a brief moment that the disobedience of his soldiers angered him for a moment, yet he sighed as they continiued to march on, the seemingly mindless hulks of Deep Ones following them in the distance. By now they had already split up from the rest of the squadrons in a way, that only few of them could be seen in the distance, if the view upon them wasn't covered by mountains of garbage and junk.
"Aren't we already doing that, soldier?", he solely stated silent, so that only those close to them could hear them, "I've already seen some like these guys... Jedi, Sith... I fought back then at Jabiim. Saw from safe distance how these Blackguards decimated our ranks, how they just butchered everything."
He spitted on the ground, as either the anger or his nervousness about the situation was kicking in once more.
"These damn Jedi we're hunting now won't be different", he then concluded, "They make it sound easy, when they say 'just hunt down those padawans', but these space wizards... they're not natural. For me they're as alien as these... things, that are supposed to protect us."
Another look back towards the anglerfish-like creatures that accompanied them showed that Howard was scared, no matter that he was already a war veteran. Perhaps having even witnessed the horrors of a previous war prior to the Dominion sorta revealed the insecurities that he had carried with him already. The mindset of a single lost soul within an army of forlorn and miserable existences.
They weren't necessarily the bad guys nor were they naive about their mysterious superiors. They were to some portion expierienced, have already seen for what this galaxy is.
For the best or for the worst.
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