Harnaidan

Waiting until the main cabin's light changes from red to green, signaling they have touched down and are clear to disembark from the gunship, 1st Lieutenant Nicolina Foresi is the first to exit the LAAT/i and get her boots on the ground. Looking over to watch her platoon's second Larty set down nearby, Nicolina opens her platoon's secure comm channel and says, Solberg, Gosse, with me. Team leaders, have your people get out and stretch their legs a bit. Stick near the Lartys and standby for further orders.

Waiting until SSG Solberg, the tall human woman in charge of the platoon's support element, and SGT Gosse, a powerfully built male Trandoshan, have joined her, Nicolina begins walking as she nods towards the nearby IGBC HQ's where she can make out the Imperial Elite Guards waiting for them.

With Solberg to her right and Gosse to her left - all three of them marching smartly - Nicolina signals for them to come to halt when they reach the Imperial Elite Guards, then salutes crisply as she says, First Lieutenant Foresi reporting for escort to Grand General Delvardus' office as ordered.

Falling into step behind the Imperial Elite Guard squad, Nicolina, Solberg, and Gosse follow them into the former IGBC HQ, and then up to an office Nicolina correctly assumes to be that of the Grand General.

Their blaster rifles slung in shoulder ready carry positions, Nicolina and her platoon mates enter the office walking in unison. Stopping a respectful distance from where the Grand General is working, Nicolina taking a step forward so that Solberg and Gosse are behind her to her left and right, the trio of Stormtroopers stand at attention. The armor of all three troopers has been polished and shined, yet still bear the scratches, dents, and other evidence of having been worn in more than a few battles. Waiting until the Grand General has finished reading the report that had been occupying his attention when they entered, Nicolina salutes Delvardus smartly and says, Grand General, sir! First Lieutenant Foresi of 1st Squad, 1st Platoon, Company A, 1st Battalion of the 27th Infantry, 3rd Brigade of the 25th Infantry Division from Khomm reporting for duty, Grand General, sir!

After Nicademus suggests there is no need for formalities, Nicolina adopts an at ease stance after a brief hesitation suggesting either surprise with the Grand General's suggestion or perhaps simply that Nicademus is not far off with his statement about Stormtroopers and protocol.  Only after Nicolina moves into her less formal stance do her platoon mates follow suite, the burly Trandoshan the last to allow himself to do so.

Despite the sincerity she can detect in Nicademus' tone when he tells her she can address him as Nicademus, Nicolina cannot yet bring herself to do so out of the respect she feels for the being that all but embodies, and certainly has sustained and reinvigorated, the system she has devoted her life to protecting, and so she answers in a respectful tone of voice not far different from her initial address, though she does manage to refrain from shouting her words in military fashion as she had before when she says, Thank you, sir.  It was a relief to get your call to make our way from Khomm to Muunilinst.  About going dark, sir, some members of my platoon and I were asked to accompany Knight Solomon on some black-ops that required we go off grid for a while.  By the time we made it back to Khomm after the ops, the higher ups had lost contact with you.  

Clearing her throat and unconsciously standing up straighter as she realizes Nicademus may have simple been being polite and not looking for a lot of chatter, Nicolina continues more formally than before, It's good to see you alive and unharmed too, sir, and it's an honor to back under your command.  We're all eager to get back to work for you, sir.  Just tell us where you need us and what you want us to do, and we'll move on it  pee dee eff. . . erm, that is right away, sir.             
 

Dragoon squad were making their way toward the communications array, a tall spire like mast which served as the mark post for the overeeers Cathedral, a base of operations that allowed him al eyes and ears and access to anything in camp. A man more clean and precise than Xaldrich, if he were an instrument than no doubt a scalpel would be a good fit.

Boots heated out a rhythm as the squad jogged in time, in synch, well oiled and we'll practised, passing between tents into open ground; and that was when it happened. Well oiled, top of the class but it matters not when you still have much to learn, and on this day of fateful days there was much Davos would learn. Never get complacent,always be alert.

Dak was the first to drop, a well timed shot, but halfway across what was the makeshift parade ground the squad were easy pickings, it was that moment of fear when you are half torn between deciding on not as much when to run,but to where, metres made all the difference and there were several of those between the squad and cover, and they were sitting ducks. The squad didn't even hear or barely register the first shot, Dak just fell, a clatter of plastoid, a great smoking hole billowed up from his head, it were almost like his spirit leaving his body. Then they did what no trained soldier should or would have done, they froze, it was a split second, but on the field of battle seconds were an eternity. Asecond shot rang out, Davos noted it was from a different source, so at least two shooters, and their attackers were just building up their confidence. The second shot struck Reek in the arm, the third shot he cried out as a pocket of ionized energy tore through his knee.

"Drop to the FLOOR!!

Davos voiced yelled aloud, it was a coarse cry, eyes wetted from seeing Brothers in arms fall, one read, one downed.

Covering fire! spray those bastards!

Still with the presence of mine to instruct and hopefully get out of this alive, the plan was simple, keep firing, force whomever was attacking to keep their heads down and behind cover and allow the squad to move.

"Ronto, Brillson, Excia, Lark, alternate, covering fire pattern, Krik you and I move Dak...."

Yet Davos was cut off by Dak himself, his voice came in painful slow rasps; "No point now worrying about me, but I can still be useful, I'll give'em hell, you guys scramble, one at a time."

The squad exchanged brief glances; "Get to it." Davos responded.

"Lark, you go first, stay nice and low, we will cover you, we will work down to Brillson, me and Ronto go last."

"Go now Lark." The enemy, whoever and where ever and how ever many in number were retaining cover, Park's transition was quick and he made cover behind a tent about three meters away. Yet perhaps the attackers had called reinforcements, or had grown cocky, but they began to return fire with some aplomb.

Red shots singer across the Spartan field and seemed to be converging on Brillson and Excia, they had lay prone where they had been standing, their comradeship now turned into a handicap. Davos could see where the fire was coming from. Dust, dirt and grass was torn up as the shots are there way closer to there mark. Davos looked down the sight of his scope on his EE-3, not a blaster built with long range or accuracy in mind. Davos tightened the sight on his scope, if he could just squeeze a bit more focus out of the blasted thing..

"Arggghhhhh..."

A brief cry, well more of a scream of such anguish and pain rang out surely deafening the remaining members as Excia's last moment left his lungs, the communications fell silent all but for the distant crackle. Excia had been a promising contender and supporter, if Davos had called anyone a close friend it was this quiet yet determinedly focused boy. He was, or rather had been the glue that had helped even over the cracks that Davos created, he was a friend.....

"My friend.....my friend......my Brother......my....."

Paint, anguish, grief, the sheer idea that they were all to die, maybe even an element of fear. Inside Davos mind that first time he met Excia played out inside his brain like a holo drama, now....it was gone, only an emptiness remained an emptiness swallowed by grief, a chasm into which he could pour his anguish, from which flowered an anger he had never known. It wasn't until the calmness after that Davos was aware he had felt the soft earthy ground beneath his hands as he pushed himself up, only on recollection that he recalled the loamy ground beneath his boot, for in the moment that was now Davos was all but absent. Only a fervant, snarling, feverish, vehement animal took his place.

Gun flung aside arms spread wide as clawed hands seemed to gather the very fury and anguish of this young man, likely the Muuns on the side of the attacker paused at the sheer insanity of this incredulous scene before them, they turned to take aim and fire, but their weapons nor their minds, nor their comrades were quite their own.

Fear has a funny effect on a being, it usually brings to rise that old ancestral hand me down 'fight or flight', yet the mind was a peculiar thing, each has its own desires and fears, this uniqueness of fear was being turned against the Muuns assailants. One saw his weapon snake out into a pythonesque creature, its razor fangs now turned on him, his eyes wide and his screams no doubt heard across the field. A second turned his weapon upon his comrades, for instead he saw them as foes, the staggering dead to be precise, a third curled up in a ball gripped in fear as a nightmarish arachnid lay poised to strike, venom dripping wet upon his face.

A scream like no other, a howl more animal than man came from Davos mouth, as though his very soul was torn. He clapped his hands together and then dropped to the floor unoncious. What occurred next happened outside of Davos' recollection, next thing he would remember would be waking up at the field hospital. That same day six Muun would be found all who had died as it appeared by their own hand, eyes guaged, hands shot off, faces caved in. It was a peculiar group of bodies to come across, the'how'in relation to their death was categorised under that rare file 'unnatural, unexplained causes'.