Operation Infinite Horizon (Ascension Crew)

Sorry for the length, I didn't have much to say.

Jarka Sharkal's transport arrived shortly before the Ascension released its hold on the dry docks of the Kuat Drive Yards. This new assignment was something he was not used to, it was space. His father had always said a true soldier belonged on the ground where "he could get his feet wet". Jarka had been stationed with a unit on Coruscant when his orders were given to him. The Second Lieutenant was fresh meat or so to speak and had absolutely no combat experience. Jarka's M25e2 Blaster Rifle was strapped to his pack. He was in his battle armor. A droid had shown him to his quarters shortly before take off.

Jarka quickly dressed in his dress uniform. The black suit was freshly starched and brand new. His lieutenant bars were shiny and crisp. He wore his training medals and patches on it like a Cadet. His sidearm was in a fresh leather holster and his black dress shoes were polished to a shine. As he finished dressing he popped on his officer cap and recieved an order to report to a meeting room. He made his way quickly to the briefing room and noticed he was among the first to arrive.

The Lieutenant sat in the front row and quietly awaited for the commander of the ship and the other officers to come.

((This color italics are Rah's thoughts that CAN be heard by others...it will be stated in the posts if she is SENDING them to someone SPECIFIC, if there is NO particular person mentioned then the thought can be heard by any force user in the area with the ability.

PHEW! this was a long one...))

To any who passed the unsuspecting door to her quarters, they might have thought that someone was keeping an angry krayt dragon locked up in there. Between her hissing and snarling in cheunh and tossing things about as she unpacked...again...no one could really think otherwise. The truth of the matter was, Rahja Kel was ANGRY. She didn't like being stuck on a ship at all in the first place, but right when she had started to settle in on the Aegis, and had even made an acquaintance (he couldn't really be called a friend yet, despite her having healed him after he crashed) that she could tolerate...and maybe even grow to trust a bit....she was TRANSFERRED! To make matters worse, the army had sent their Reaver hell-hound on a fun little mission to Empress Teta where she was to seek out, and 'silence', a high profile dissenter against the Republic. The best part...she'd only just arrived back from the mission today. Glancing at the time she noted, ruefully, that it had only been an hour since she'd arrived, just enough time to get to the GRS Ascension and unpack....

On her way through she had been met with a rather startled Lieutenant who, noticing her insignia and rank, proceeded to tell her that there was going to be a meeting with the commander in an hour exactly. Snarling a half-hearted 'thank you', the irritable and exhausted Chiss wandered her way through the maze of halls toward her designated accommodations near the rear of the ship with the rest of the 'toy soldiers' the army had oh so kindly allotted a station here, whereas the naval officers got cabins toward the fore of the ship near the fighters and other, more critical, sections of the ship where they worked.

Sender, who had been perched on her shoulder, made sure to give the surly woman a good scolding about her attitude, which, in turn, earned him a sweep of her hand that sent him reeling off her shoulder and forcing his propulsion systems to flare to life suddenly before he lighted on her shoulder once more. As she had swept down the halls, her cloak helped her form meld with the bulkhead and caused more than a few of the ship's crew to pause or do a double take of what they were seeing, most only noticing what they would, at first, think was a disembodied chiss head floating down the halls toward, or past, them. Upon reaching her destination, Rahja had, for all intensive purposes, thrown a tantrum while unpacking...tossing clothing into drawers, shoving her rifle into a corner and securing it there, stuffing her medical supplies, ammo, and spare rations into her footlocker, and pushing her nearly empty pack under her bed while hissing and snarling obscenities in her native tongue as she vented her anger and frustration at the situation and wondered just WHY she felt thus.

This brought her to the present moment, where she found herself glaring at the alarm chrono that was glaring the time right back at her, its red numbers echoing the red glow of her eyes. Huffing, Rah felt curiosity eating away at her resolve to be as infuriatingly subordinate as she could be by being as LATE to the meeting as she could be...perhaps not even going at all. It was this curiosity that spurred the indigo woman to not only GO to the meeting, but be early to it. The message she had been sent on the Aegis, and later on her way to Empress Teta, had been vague at best, and certainly hadn't said the ship commander's name...now her curiosity about WHO it was had her moving to join the meeting despite her apparent...annoyances. Grumbling to herself once more, she called Sender to her shoulder again and left the room, locking it behind her.

As she traversed the corridors once again, heading to the briefing room, Rahja mulled over her situation. Why was she feeling so upset over being transferred to a new ship? It made no sense! She'd never really cared where she did or didn't stay once she had left the temple, and then again after Shelk had died. She had been happy being a transient, a drifter among the worlds of the galaxy, never staying long enough in one place to get attached to anything or anyone. She liked it that way, she PREFERRED it that way...it made life easier and more comfortable for everyone involved. As soon as the chiss woman would drift into someone's life, she would drift out again, and this suited her just fine...it kept people alive...so why, then, had her transfer to this new ship made her so upset? It isn't as if I had anything or anyone attaching me to the Aegis...so why the anger? It wasn't as if it were my home, I detest being on these tin cans anyway...so why? Why?

Puzzling over this new frustration of 'why', Rah allowed her feet to do the walking, barely even noticing her surroundings until she came to the door of the briefing room. Well...five minutes early...let's see what stuck up prick is gonna try and tell me how to do my job THIS time...she thought with a renewed wave of irritation as she entered the room. Commanders were all the same after all...stiff, stuck up, good for nothing, rule crunching, high and mighty.....Crass?! The raven haired woman stopped so abruptly that Sender was jolted forward, his talons gripping painfully into her skin as his wings jutted out to steady himself and keep from falling, his propulsion sending a blast of heated air past Rahja's face and sending her hair billowing about her for a moment before settling around her once more as Sender settled himself once again.

The stunned woman had halted, one foot planted the other heel place to bring her forward another step, as her eyes landed on the zeltron man stationed at the head of the table, her carmine eyes widened slightly with shock. Regaining her composure, it was nearly all she could do not to smile as she eyed the ranking bars on his uniform. So HE was the commander?! Pacing forward, she completely bypassed another former member of the Aegis, his uniform one of crisp neatness that usually entailed the greenhorns of the army. Rah, having been in a hurry, was still donning her leather armor and that heavy chameleon weave cloak that so readily reflected her surroundings in the minuscule threads of metal while absorbing the light with the thicker threads of grey cloth and thus allowing her form to blend easily into the backdrop of the briefing room. As she came to a seat nearest Crass, she paused with one blue hand resting on the back of the seat she was about to take.

So...Commander Crassus Vosk is it now?

The low purr of her voice held some hint of amusement at the words and one black eyebrow quirked as a small smirk formed on her face. Oh, this was going to be interesting indeed...

Permission to be seated....Sir....

She added, twisting the knife just a bit deeper, her joking sarcasm clearly evident in the tone and cadence of the request. It was fairly obvious that she was not asking permission of any sort to be seated, but that it was rather a bit of verbal play on her part with the man she had met aboard the Aegis. Considering how few there were in the room...namely that one soul she had passed...Rahja felt no need to stand on formalities. As she flipped that cloak back over her shoulder to reveal the dark blue billowy shirt held tightly to her lean frame by the flexible leather armor bodice, jedi issue utility belt, brown leggings covered in more brown leather armor strapped at the thighs (and again at the calves), and jedi issue combat boots, Rahja Kel noted that her foul mood had seemed to dissipate as soon as she had seen him. Very odd...I wonder why...she mused momentarily before seating herself with a sort of feline grace that related the strength of any huntress, but also the flowing movement of a dancer or one trained in martial arts and swordplay. Though it was true that Rahja was, in fact, a huntress and dancer of sorts, her fluid strength came more from her early years as a jedi youngling, what little extra training she got in the jedi Medcorps, and later, her work as a mercenary. What DIDN'T come from those varied backgrounds, however, was the aire of mystery about her, the subtle aura of inner strength mingled with a resounding feeling of "there's more to her than meets the eye, what is it?" that came so naturally with her people and her culture.

Well then, Commander Vossk, how can we, your little minions, do your bidding...and thus the bidding of the Republic?

Another joke. It was easier, with so few prying eyes around, to open up ever so slightly and tease the new commander. No doubt her use of his last name and the spiffy new title that came with his rank would get a rise from the informal zeltron....but again, that's what she was looking for. Sender huffed a mildly irritated sigh as he hopped down from the woman's shoulder to rest on the table, the AER droid shaking his head from side to side before turning to the commander as well.

Good evening Commander Crass. It's good to see you again. Rahja seemed rather miffed at having to leave the Aegis, but I do believe seeing you here has given her a change of attitude.

His metal beak parted in a bird-like smile as he fanned his tail 'feathers' slightly as he settled down on the table top. This comment earned him a glare from the red eyed woman, but she did nothing more than huff in reply and shake her head slightly. WHAT am I going to do with this BIG MOUTHED droid?! That thought elicited another huff from the woman as she reclined slightly in the seat, allowing her tired eyes to drift halfway shut. She was feeling the effects of having run another mission so soon after departing the GRS Aegis, then having to return immediately to the KDY to report here...just in time for a meeting.

The Republic really DOES like to run me ragged...

She mused silently. The thought was meant for no one but herself, however, in her exhaustion her barriers had weakened enough for that single contemplation to seep out.

Shenhua stood on one of the many observation decks in the GRS Ascension. She had still not lost her habit of looking out space. People seemed to be bustling about, especially since this was their maiden mission. Shenhua was a little more anxious than she usually was when she looked out into the depths of space. Something was a little off about this whole transfer. She could sense Crassus on the ship, but she had seen no sign of him. He had been a little vague about this whole transfer business back on the Aegis. She had originally thought her senses were deceiving her, but they never had before, so she once again became suspicious.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant Norieaga?" a voice stated from behind her.

She turned around and gave the young officer a curt nod.

"The Commander has called for operational personnel at 0330."

Shenhua nodded her head that she acknowledged the orders, and the officer quickly went about his business. There was still about thirty minutes before the briefing so she decided to head back to her quarters. Once she reached, she quickly set her alarm, and was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

She woke up 20 minutes later, and quickly made herself presentable. She had perfected the art of power napping, and it was quite useful for any military personnel. She found herself at the briefing room a minute or two early and already saw three people in the room. One of whom she recognized as Rahja and the other....oh she knew him alright.

You have a lot of explaining to do mister she thought as her eyes narrowed at the sight of her 'new' commander.

"Lieutenant Shenhua Noriega reporting as order, commander" she said formally as she came to attention.

Shenhua then went to one of the seats in the briefing room, and slide into the chair. She couldn't wait to get an explanation from Crassus about how he got promoted and failed to tell her.

((Was gonna do a monster summary post, but since we'll be RP'ing that eventually... I'll be vague and quick here...
EDIT: or maybe not.... lol...))


[...from Scraplands]

The last month or so felt like a blur to Pak Har'endanno. Just a month ago he had been flying with the Black Holes. Now he found himself on the Acsension, just a few days after completing his first mission with his newest squadron attached to the Aegis. The Balosar wasn't sure if this was a good or bad sign, being transferred so quickly after his last assignment. He had thought that the squad he had just joined would be together for a while, just like with the Black Holes of earlier. But, no, after a few days of leave, he was ordered to the Ascension to join another fighter pilot squadron.

Pak shook his head as he tried to wake himself up. Pulling himself out of bed, he dragged himself to his refresher. One good thing about being an officer--he had his own refresher and didn't have to share his cabin. Or what could be called a cabin. Maybe after he unpacked and rehung some personal effects in it.

The water poured over him, slowly waking him up and making him more aware. Pak knew it would be a great opportunity on this new ship, but it was bittersweet for him. He hadn't had time to say farewell to Shen or find out whether or not she was also being transferred off the Aegis. Sighing, he wrapped a towel around his waist and glanced at himself in the foggy mirror. The mission had been so hectic; they had left the afternoon after their night in the officer's club. And he hadn't spent time with her since. Yes, they were flying together, but that was all business. And when they finally got back to the Aegis, he couldn't find her. Pak assumed she had went on her leave already.

He ran a hand through his wet hair. Pak hadn't had much time for his own vacation, the transfer orders coming through just as he was packing. Which was convenient in an ironic sort of way. It meant he was already halfway ready to switch ships. Pak dressed quickly in his dress uniform. Though it was early, he wanted to impress whoever his new commander was, even though he already felt a little odd towards the being. Whoever thought it was cool to call a meeting at 3:00 in the morning was more than a little off his or her rocker.

Finally deciding he was as ready as he would ever be, Pak made his way from the living quarters to the briefing room. He had just turned a corner and was about to walk into the room, when he stopped dead in his tracks. And suppressed a groan. Quickly he regained his composure and walked forward. What in all the kriffing blazes was HE doing here? But Pak shrugged it off; no use getting upset now, especially this early. Or he thought it was early; shiplag was a pregnant dog.

He snapped off a crisp salute before turning to look at the rest of the room. The ground lieutenant who had bothered him during the briefing on the Aegis was there, plus another woman who he vaguely recognized from the same briefing. What is this, a reunion? Pak would have introduced himself, but one, he was busy talking to the woman and two, he would know Pak anyway from the mission they had just ran together a week before.

Once again Pak stopped in his tracks as he spotted another member of the team. Shenhua! His face broke into a huge smile as he slide into the seat next to her. They might not be able to talk and catch up much, but at least he could sit by her in a more informal setting. Well, more informal than their earlier mission. Pak was just happy to see that she was also assigned to this ship. And with Vossk as commander, he wouldn't be flying with them... Pak shook the possibilities from his head. Instead he leaned over and whispered, "You look surprised. I hope it's not because of myself." He grinned.

Rah blushed a bit after his dismissal, though it was unclear just WHAT she was blushing about...the only thing that was certain: Rah had her mental shields so bolstered that nothing was getting in, or going out, for quite a while. This would prove to be a blessing for Crass, it seemed, since his own musings were left unheeded by the chiss woman. As he restated that she would, in fact, have a whole day to recoup, Rah let out a sigh of relief. Finally....FINALLY....a day she didn't HAVE to do anything, well, aside from making sure all of her gear was ready to go and her rifle was set.

Thank the force for that small mercy.

She muttered and rested her head on her hands. Sender, who had been sitting silently, absorbing the interaction with great interest, tilted his head as he noticed another entering the room. Rah, also, had noted the entry of the miraluka woman and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Well, so much for continuing their conversation...

Well...time for you to get to work.

She stated with a small smile to hide her disappointment. Luckily this conversation had been held before any but the new guy...Sharkal his name was? She couldn't remember really, they'd had so little interaction....had entered. Obviously the young Lieutenant was a bit overzealous having been here over five minutes early. The fact that Rahja herself had been here that early said something. Now, she simply sat silently, her face once more a stony mask as the other two entered the room and took their seats. As she watched them it was rather obvious to the jedi-reject that the male pilot seemed to rather fancy the miriluka woman that Crass had introduced her to. Well, things were turning out rather interestingly thus far...
I wonder just what ELSE might come about from this meeting...

“By the grace of my home planet,” Cersa rambled under her breath, realizing that made almost no sense to anyone passing by her. She consulted her datapad for probably the hundredth time since she’d boarded the Ascension. Ah yes, her quarter numbers were… wait… Cersa looked down at it again. Staying awake for about the last twenty-seven hours was beginning to take a toll on the Cathar woman. Her ears laid hack further than usual within her messily styled hair. Anyone would think she had clipped it with her own claws. Of course she didn’t though. It was just the style she preferred. Made things easier in her life.

She found her door and hit the code buttons to make it slide open, presenting her with a small dorm like area big enough for her and her stuff. That was about it. Cersa sighed tiredly. Blinking at her new surroundings, Cersa sloppily hit the button to close the door with a quiet swoosh. She slid her sword from her shoulder and set it, leaning against the wall, in the corner. Her bag she simply dropped beside the bunk. She set her datapad to vibrate with the alarming notes she had any messages on a flat surface. She blinked at the bunk, and then a belly flop on it. She dug out the pillow and wrapped her arms around it, snuggling her face into the somewhat nasty, half-sanitized smell that always lingered in the grunts’ quarters that Cersa had just come around to accepting as normal. Sighing, a slight purr passing her lips, she was instantly sucked into a deep trance at 0216 hours.

It was the metallic knock on her door that startled her into sitting upright, muscles flexing and prepared for something to happen. Her ears raised slightly, the hair on the back of her neck rising from her startle. The knock struck again, three times on her door. Cersa eased herself off the bunk, yawning, shaking her head and disturbing the already messily laid hair and fur. Her fur lowered, flattening to her again as she depressed the button to let the door slid open partial way.

“May I help you?” she asked, keeping her words from slurring and stifling another yawn, stating the question without even waiting to see if the being was male or female to add a “sir” or “ma’am” to the end. She was new here on board. First impressions started… well, should’ve started when she walked off the shuttle and struggled along to her quarters. But, she’d start now.

“Yes,” the Lieutenant replied to her, “ the Commander is calling all operational personnel to briefing room one, ma’am.”

“When?”

“Oh, at o-three-thirty,” he completed with a slight start, seeming to be a little embarrassed. He had been surprised to see exactly what species she had been. Never, really, though read and seen pictures, had he seen a true Cathar. Cersa flashed him a fanged smile.

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant, I don’t bite, though I look like I do,” she chuckled a little. “I understand not everyone sees a Cathar every day.” That at that, she closed her door and once more consulted her datapad.

It was 0245.

“Dammit,” she sneered slightly. Her lagging brain finally caught up with her. Who called a briefing meeting at half past three? Loony commanders. Always thought that because they had enough rest, the rest of his ship members did. Especially his ground forces, it seemed, who usually got little to no rest. The Cathar woman was a little annoyed. There better be a good cup of coffee waiting for her. Otherwise, she was going to go right back to sleep. Not all felines were nocturnal, despite what most ignorant people seemed to believe.

Cersa spent the next few minutes unpacking some of her things, such as her armor and a couple of uniforms. She examined her knife, the one she always had on her, making sure it was still sharp. Folding it down and setting the knife to the side, she sighed when she realized her uniform was slightly wrinkled. That just wouldn’t do. Slight wrinkles that may disappeared when she put it on or not, no wrinkles would be tolerated. Before she went to pressing it, Cersa checked on her sword, making sure the blade wasn’t bent or dented. Satisfied all her equipment was in decent condition, she washed up, using cold water to wake her up some more, and pressed her dress uniform appropriately. By the time she had laced up her boots and once again consulted her trustworthy datapad, it was three-twenty. She brought up the quickest way to the briefing room, studied it, and tucked away her handy tool along with her knife.

Now that she was walking around formally, she could see the nervous or curious glances of those she passed by. Cersa found herself taller than most of the females she walked by, which wasn’t much of a surprise for the Cathar, who knew she was rather tall. Cersa also recognized that it was her type of species, the baseline Cathar, that drew most of the attention. What many understood a Cathar to be was from their sub-species, the usually hairless ones. Those partial Cathars. And Cersa was fur and pointed ears jutting from her head. Despite the glances, Cersa held a small smile to ease the aura settling around her.

At three-twenty-eight, Cersa entered the briefing room. Her salute was one well-practiced and easy for her to pull off. “Staff Sergeant Cersa Ratarre’ta present, Commander,” she announced, her ‘r’s rolling slightly with her accent.

"Who do we have?" Cersa thought to herself as she moved smoothly to a vacant seat and sat down. "A Chiss? Wow, don’t see too many of those. A couple of humans or close to it. Looks like the commander’s a Zeltron." Cersa eyed the ranks with her dark colored eyes. "A… a balosar, I’m sure of it. Weird antenna-springing-from-my-head species. Wait… that’s a miraluka, not a human. I think… Why else would someone make an effort to cover their eyes if what they have is eye sockets? Hmph. Then again, I could be very well wrong…ah, well, let’s see how this goes over."

With one hand, she brushed some of her hair out from over her eye, and then lowered it to cover the yawn she simply could not keep at bay any longer. If any of these people wanted to squawk at it, they could be her guest.

How typical was this? After the worst operation of his career he was STILL scouting ahead. It would seem that even in times of relative peace, Sean was still sent to take a peek before the rest of the squad came...well what was left of it at least.

It was no secret by now: the Republic screwed up bad. The H.A.L.O. squad sent to Nar Shadaa to protect the kidnapped Major Borgonia failed on a degree the bereaved sniper never thought possible. What started as a simple seek and destroy/rescue became a hellish nightmare in which a miss-labeled Dark Jedi was shot, the Major was convicted of treason, the true offenders escaped, and a hefty chunk of his squad had been wiped out. Despite years of military training to eliminate it, emotion weighed heavily on Sean's shoulders.

Even when he was able to find consolation amongst the fact that Aunna and the Dark Jedi had escaped their untimely deaths, his mind would only wander back to the costs even this fortunate event had taken on him. After covertly assisting the escape and even delaying their search capability for a while, he had almost been branded a traitor himself. The suspicion was upon him now. There were too many coincidences to go unnoticed. Thanks to some quick wit, he was able to escape conviction, but there was no doubt there were eyes upon him now.

Those dark memories drifted away as Sean paused to take his bearings. He was on board the Ascension, a covert warfare craft "designed to infiltrate hostile controlled worlds and execute Covert Operations." Perhaps it was once again only his nature to have referenced anything the galaxy knew about this ship before boarding it. Unsurprisingly, he found a lot more information from tapping the networks of some of the more...unsavory information sources than the Kuat Drives network. All in all, it wasn't much different in feel and purpose than the H.A.L.O.A.T.W. supported craft that launched his squad's drop pods.

Sean kept his head low as he strode down the clean halls,many uniformed officers and crew striding him. A hawkish man with short black hair and toting what Sean recognized as a M25e2 rifle ran past apparently on his way to somewhere. He barely gave this man more than a glance before continuing on. Several other officers gave him an unsavory glance and Sean started to wish he had thought to clean up a bit and get into full uniform before boarding the craft, but it was too late now. He would be expected soon. So it was thus that he wandered those halls, half-lost, in sweatpants and a comfortable brown jacket left unbuttoned, his white undershirt showing underneath. Another contemptuous stare...Sean lowered his head further and tried not to think about it. There was his reflection gazing right back at him from the freshly waxed halls. He looked like a meteor collision. Greasy hair half-combed sat atop a weathered face. There were dark circles under his eyes and a brown layer of fuzz on his chin. How long has it been since I shaved...or showered by that matter? Sean almost chuckled aloud when it suddenly occurred to him that he was noting his unkempt appearance in the stunningly polished floors. Oh the irony...

A head floated by him. That's it, just a head. Sean just stopped where he was and stared into the wall. Had he really seen that, or was this just a figment of sleep deprivation? Slowly, Sean turned in the direction the head had gone. He was just too late, he caught the last glimpse of the head before it turned the corner, Ayer in pursuit- The sniper's eyes opened wider than ever that week as he spun around, his rifle almost conking the head of a passing crewmen who narrowly ducked it in time. Sean found himself rooted to the spot staring after the place the head and bird had been moments ago. It may have been a shadow, or even just a figment of his imagination, but he could have sworn he had seen the familiar form of his precious AER.

There had been a casualty of Operation Sneak and Destroy that hit Sean hardest: Ayer. The AER droid that had been issued to him with his accomplishments had sacrificed itself to save Ms. Borgonia and the Jedi when they had escaped the prison. He was truly unique, the only one of his kind in fact, and he was more than just a recon droid to Sean. He was his friend. Sean choked back tears, he had lost hope days ago that he may see Ayer again. After the explosion, he had gone to find him, but the droid was nowhere in sight. Either destroyed or taken, neither gave him much prospect on his existence. Now as he stood staring into empty space, all the loneliness he had suppressed flowed back into him. It took every bit of his remaining willpower to keep from just collapsing in a corner to whimper, but it could not stop the single tear that flowed down his cheek.

Sean raised his head. Mourning would not fulfill his duty. He was an elite soldier of the Galactic Republic army, and may he be damned if he didn't act like one. Shouldering his rifle, he strode forward again along the halls flipping his datapad from his belt. He had been hopelessly los- scouting...the area for long enough. Punching in a few codes, the datapad whirred to life as a small antenna rose from it's top.

RANGE SET: 200 METERS
EVALUATING SURROUNDINGS...

MAPPING COMPLETE
DISPLAYING SEISMOGRAPHIC DATA

On the display screen, a vague map of the surroundings arranged itself, the narrow passages of the hallway becoming more and more evident as the machine calculated. The corner's of Sean's mouth twitched into a hint of a small smile. He had just had this feature installed a few days ago as he began to learn the hard way just how directionally challenged he was without Ayer. No wonder they assigned me 03, the spotter, I'm hopeless. Of course, he could have just gotten a map of the ship from its network, but the seismogram is just much more fun.

He found the meeting room's location on the "map" and began on his way. At least he started to, until he was almost plowed over by a gigantic Cathar. This wasn't the first of these species he had run into (though the first to do so literally) but he couldn't be sure if he had ever seen one of such pure breed. Throwing out his arms to keep his balance, Sean made sure to stay far away from teeth and/or claws. The woman seemed not to take note of him, and continued her hurried gait down the hall. Logging this as one of the more interesting things he had seen on the ship so far (second to the floating head and imaginary shadow of course) he glanced down at his datapad and noted that she was moving towards the meeting room herself. A combination of curiosity and desire to just find his way already, decided Sean's mind to follow this Cathar, and so he did just that.

She led him to a small lift where he waited until she had stepped on and traveled along the shaft. Once the elevator came back down, Sean stepped gingerly aboard. The durasteel doors closed behind him and the noise of the craft's occupancy dimmed noticeably. According to the seismograph, this shaft would take him straight to meeting room 1, his destination. Like everything else in the blasted ship, the shining reflection of himself in the doors mocked his appearance. Sean tried his best smile to introduce himself to the commander. It was grim enough to scare small children.

Sean dropped the "smile" and glared at the door. He glared back himself with twice the scorn. Great dragon pearls, even my reflection thinks I'm a failure. The elevator gave a soft ding as his ascent slowed and the doors began to open. Sean laughed. He didn't care anymore, he flopped against the back of the elevator and just laughed. Even as the door closed in front of him again and the lift descended, he kept on laughing. Alone in the shaft as he may have been, the mental image of that meeting room still danced before his eyes. There had been the Cathar as expected, but, just because fate seemed to love the sniper so, there also stood the floating head now with attached body to boot, the hurried officer from when he first boarded, several other officers he had felt fairly sure he had spotted wandering the halls, and low and behold a Familiar!

The elevator stopped at the bottom, opened the doors to let Sean out (which he didn't do), then closed them again to begin its second ascent. On the way back up, Sean composed himself and managed to reduce his amusement to small hiccuping chuckles. By the time the elevator reached the top again, Sean had returned his straight face and stood stoically awaiting the doors to open and make a first impression...again.

The room revealed itself to Sean with several...interesting looks. Ignoring these, he stepped from the lift, readjusted his rifle, and gave an attentive salute. Private first class Sean Mu'haro, elite riflemen of H.A.L.O.A.T.W. and one of the few survivors of the failed Sneak and Destroy operation. Without realizing it, he had accentuated the word "failed", he was still bitter about the events of that mission. It had all been a ruse, planned out ahead with no real concern for the lives of himself and his comrades.

Without waiting for permission to be seated, Sean collapsed next to the "floating head" and the AER droid perched next to her. Reaching out a hand, he patted the bird lightly on the head and spoke in barely more than a whisper. When I first saw you, I mistook you for 03. How have you been faring...04?

((This is the link for the little conversation that Crass and Rah had while they were waiting for the crew to enter))

Crass gave a little blush to complement Rah's, though his was considerably harder to see through his crimson hued skin than her blue. He silently thanked the Force for that small mercy as she spoke, echoing his thoughts, even though they were about a different subject. Crass couldn’t help but notice the little flick of Rah’s eyelids as Shenhua entered the room… did Rahja just roll her eyes? He couldn’t be completely certain, considering the fact that her eyeballs were of a solid crimson hue.

“I gotta do it every once and awhile, right?”

He offered a playful little smirk to Rah as he spoke, then turned to a Miraluk-… Shen was here? A gigantic grin contorted the features of his face. It wouldn’t surprise him if she was probably the new squadron commander; she was more than skilled enough. He honestly couldn’t believe that the Navy had put him with his “sister” to stations in a row. The Zeltron was just tickled pink to know that he had someone he could trust was put in charge of the star fighters. He couldn’t really talk to her now, though… since it seemed that more people were filling in.

“Shen! Its good to see you again, heh… I would have told you about this….”

He looked down at his collar and held it up, indicating at the new rank insignia that was pinned there. After a few moments he turned his gaze back up to Shen.

“… but they didn’t let me tell ANYONE that I was transferring out, let alone being promoted and captaining a super-classified ship.”

Then he saw a Balosar walk in, what was his name… Pak? After a few seconds of processing the Zeltron commander's mind confirmed the man’s name. It didn’t take a hyperspace physicist to tell that he was “interested” in Shen, and since he considered her his surrogate sister, the man took exception to it. Not that Shen needed an "older brother” to look out for her, but for some odd reason Crass couldn’t help but feel a slight amount of anger bubble up in his heart as Pak asked Shen about being surprised. He suppressed the comment, “Easy there, buddy, me and her go back WAY furhter than you and she,” for obvious reasons. That would nearly confirm the unfounded rumors that they were secret lovers. Every time the man thought about those rumors he grimaced a little on the inside. She may not have been his biological sister… but it still felt like they accused him of incest nonetheless.

A giant bi-pedal cat walked into the room and spoke. Yes, a giant cat, and yes, she really did speak. She was a she and NOT a he, correct? The Zeltron’s gaze instantly snapped over to this spectacle, though he took care not to stare. It didn’t take more than a perfunctory glance to make out the full-blooded Cathar’s obviously feminine form. Crass had never seen a Cathar quite like the one that now stood before him, he had seen the hairless ones… they were a little off looking to be honest. The man thought that the full fur on them looked considerably more natural then the peach fuzz that other Cathar sported. He replied to her with a slight nod and a few words, he paid no heed to her yawn… most of the people (Crass included) hadn’t gotten much sleep before this meeting. The man would keep it less formal than they were used to.

“Welcome aboard, Staff Sergeant… g’head and have a seat where you want, I am going to start the briefing soon.”

The last syllable barely left his naturally ruby lips before the turbo lift doors opened to reveal a human laughing his rear end off. He was about to say something when the door closed infront of him... it was a little bit longer before the door shot open again to reveal the same human enter the briefing room and introduce himself as Sean Mu’haro… even going so far as to say that his last mission had been a failure. Crass had been on failed missions before, it was simply impossible to win every single time you went out. He offered the man an understanding smile and a kind tone of voice, he decided to use the man’s first name to hopefully come across on a more personal level.

“What was that all about? and Sean... we all have failed missions. Don’t beat yourself up because something went wrong. No-one can be perfect all of the time ya know.”

He gave the man another understanding smile before looking around the room, then at the chrono. It was 0331, he knew a guy hadn’t come in yet… but Crass wasn't about to wait all day because someone slept past their alarm. He activated the holo-briefing with a single deft stroke of the holographic keyboard that was lit up on the table before him. The room quickly darkened as thousands of tiny glowing particles shot up out of the center of the table and quickly arranged themselves into the galaxy. After a few moments this galactic view focused on of these points of light and enlarged it to reveal the image of a planet.

“This, is Subterrel. Nearly all of the planet’s inhabitants live in massive subterranean cities, it is currently aligned with our favorite government; the Sith Empire. As you can imagine, this planet is in quiet the little backwater corner of the galaxy, so it is perfect for something like the leaders of the Dawn's Ravagers pirate “armada” to meet.”

The ethereal dots that made up the planet quickly rearranged themselves into the portraits of 5 men and a woman, each one looking meaner and nastier than the last. Below each of the men in the portraits the height, weight, build, skin color, ethnicity, and pretty much everything except how many nose hairs he had appeared in small font. Crass pointed at the five men from left to right first.

“These five men are the masterminds behind it all, without them it is highly unlikely that the Ravagers would not have been started, and could not possibly continue. The Special Forces team will breach the building and take these men... preferably with more blood in than out... but dead is fine as well.”

The portraits of the pirate leaders shrunk and the layout of a fairly ordinary looking building enlarged from a single point of light to nearly the size of the room. Crass barely batted an eyelash as the blueprint hung above his head. One of the more massive rooms shifted color from a bright blue to a dark red, indicating the room where the pirates would most likely be meeting. Then a series of red dots appeared at each of the building's two entrances, this indicated the location of Lt Sharkal's regular infantry squads.

“That room is where the pirates will most likely be meeting, though the strategists on Coruscant are not one hundred percent sure on that. Lieutenant Sharkal, you and your infantry are to move in and hold down the area tight until the gunships can exfiltrate you all from the area.”

As if on cue the layout of the building sunk to the table and shrunk down so that it could fit on the top of said table. With the final press of a key the woman's face hung in the air once more.

“PFC Mu'haro and Command Sergeant Kel, that woman is one of the 'Ravager's key lieutenants. Killing her would most likely deal the final blow that would cause the organization to crumble. She is the only one that is actually on the surface of the planet... her job is to essentially command the reinforcement battalion that is holed up a few miles from the entrance to the massive cave that the meeting is taking place. How you capture or kill her is of little concern, all that matters is he is taken care of.”

With the final press of a key the lights in the room brightened slowly and most of the spectral images slowly faded away. The building layout and portraits of the targets were the only models that remained. He stood up slowly and looked at the two pilots that attended the briefing.

“Lt. Noriega, you and yours are to keep any starfighters off of the ground forces back and also ensure that the dropships that come to pick them up get there in one piece. I know that this is somewhat inglorious... but trust me. You will have your hands full. The better part of the Dawns Ravagers' fleet is in the atmosphere of that planet... and they won't exactly take kindly to us cutting off their proverbial head.”

Crass glanced down at the table before looking amongst his crew, scanning each of the faces that gazed back at him in turn. For the most part they looked like they had a good head on their shoulders... save Pak. He would have to have a little talk with him about his intentions with Shen later, though she would probably hate him to do so. Who could blame him, though? The “big brother instinct” was running rampant through his mind, despite the fact that Shenhua wasn't his biological little sister. Crass was about to ask if anyone had any questions when the voice of Ensign Nabell cut him off.

“We have picked up a distress call... its from a medical corvette... they are being attacked by Pirates, sir.”

Crass closed his eyes, why was this happening now? He couldn't very well leave those folks to their fate, especially considering the fact that he had been taken by pirates when he was younger. The Lieutenant would surely take issue with what he was about to order.

“Drop out of hyperspace, Ensign.”

“Commander, might I remind you that we are ordered to continue on to Subterrel without interruption?”

"Lieutenant, might I remind you that there are people aboard that ship? And they will likely be raped, killed, or worse unless we intercede? Drop out of hyperspace. Now."

“Dropping out of hyperspace, sir. We will be there in ten minutes.”

Crass could feel the ship drop out of the hyperspace tunnel nearly the instant the Ensign replied. Nabell was a good man... he was within' his rights to ignore Crass' order, but he obviously did not. Vossk's respect for his subordinate soared at that very moment. He turned to his key field personnel and began to speak.

“I will recap this when you all get back, but until then. Suit up and be ready for a fight about five minutes ago.”

Seventeen... Eighteen...
The seconds of silence ticked away in her head as if each one passing was marked by an alarm going off. That alarm being the drum beat of her heart pulsating through the veins in her temples. The gun in her hand had stopped firing for a while now, but she still held it as though any minute she might need to shoot something else. She gulped, wrapping her fingers around it tighter and listening even harder for any sound past the beating of her heart. She had heard voices a little while ago, just before she shot the control panel on her side of the door. There was no other way into the Medical Bay so they were probably still out there somewhere.

Them. The pirates who had attacked their ship, dragging them out of hyperspace with their decoy signals. She'd only heard about it from the shouting in the corridors as the pirates boarded. They'd stormed down the halls firing at anything that moved. Once most of the soldiers on the ship were dead, which were barely a handful considering the type of vessel, the pirates had moved on to the other personelle. She could imagine what they'd been subjected to - torture, death, slavery, or worse. She tried not to think about it. Tried not to hear the sounds of the screams as she had looked out of the Medical Bay, only to see a Zabrak heading her way.

Ran is hardly the word she would use, but there was certainly haste in her actions. The time between seeing him marching towards her and firing the blaster she kept in a drawer seemed non-existant. Almost as though it never happened, a fleeting memory. His body on the ground on her side of the door suggested otherwise. Three shots she had fired. One missed, one hit him in the head, one was just wide and managed to fry the control terminal next to the door. Now she was locked inside, and she doubted there'd be anyone left on the ship besides her now. Just a matter of time before life systems failed. If it weren't for the fact that she'd managed to get the medical droid to send off some sort of distress beacon by interfacing with the ship mainframe, she'd have used some of the wonderful chemicals stored in the Med Bay.

She still could if things started to turn bad. And it wasn't like she was expecting anyone to turn up. People were idiots. Laying the gun down on the table at last, she pulled herself up onto her feet, using her cane as support. She pulled out a small bottle, feeding a pill into an empty palm and swallowing it. The euphoric feeling surged through her immediately, making her feel slightly happier. She glanced once more at the body.
Some frigging doctor you are, Jessica.

Jarka felt the ship go out of Hyperspace. He wondered what the pirates wanted with a medical corvette. Then again, he thought, Pirates will take anything they can get their slimy little hands on...

"Commander is there anything I or my fire teams could do to assist with the corvette situation?" asked Sharkal. He had not seen any combat aboard the Aegis, but he did verse himself on alot of tactics that he had not learned in Officer Candidate School. He got to know his fire teams well and especially their leaders. They were all transferred to Coruscant for a while after the mission on garrison duty.

Jarka wandered if he was supposed to brief his men after his briefing, or keep it a secret like he did aboard the Aegis. He supposed they would tell him soon after the current crisis was over. For now he assumed the commander would call for battle stations and the infantry would wait in dropships that would not be deployed. Jarka sat straight quietly waiting for the commander to make some kind of order to the personnel gathered here. He began twiddling his thumbs to keep from getting too anxious for orders. He was still new and was not looked upon as some great or valiant leader.

Jarka flashed back to when he first decided to join the Army and go into the Military Academies. It was a day that his father had always dreamed of. He remembered the gift his father had given him on that day, it was a survival knife with his family name engraved in gold on it. They had a long and prevalent military history, dating back to the Mandalorian Wars. Jarka remembered the words his father had said before he had stepped through the doors of the military academy.

"When things get tough, think of this moment and I guarantee that you will find some comfort and peace."

Jarka never forgot those words.

Then he heard Commander Vossk's words. "...Suit up and be ready for a fight about five minutes ago," Jarka walked off with the others he went to the break room for the infantry and sounded a call to arms. The men including him hurriedly got their armor on and all grabbed their weapons out of the armory. Jarka commed into the bridge.

"This is Second Lieutenant Sharkal, fire teams Aurek through Cresh awaiting orders."

Rahja huffed a light chuckle and shrugged her shoulders as if to say “it would seem so, wouldn’t it?” As he turned his attention to the miraluka and spoke guiltily, the chiss simply rolled her eyes again and felt a flash of irritation and…no, it was just irritation…course through her. She didn’t even need to see him to know he was grinning over at the woman. No wonder so many on the Aegis had thought that they were lovers…they had to be. Huffing her dissatisfaction, Rah stilled once again and brought her arms up as she leaned against the table, propping her head on her fists tiredly. Only once another presence entered the room did she bother to take notice, crimson eyes flickering over disinterestedly before sliding closed once more….only to snap open again. A cat...really? They had A CAT on the ship?! She’d only ever seen a few cathar, and a TRUE cathar only once while she had been a young girl at the temple. Having been a child at the time, the experience was warped by her long term memory, twisted by a child’s fantasies, and skewed by her perspective of the world from a child’s short size. All of this compounded down into an image of a great tall fluff ball with arms and legs that had a tail, ears, human hair, and talked with a rather interesting accent, but was (over all) just a nice giant with a decent sense of humor. This being her main memory, the chiss woman tilted her head to the side slightly as she watched the cathar with a mild form of interest.

Like herself, the cathar seemed to be exhausted, walking over to a seat, sitting (obviously), and giving off a vigorous yawn. The chiss couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to herself and give a subtle, understanding, smirk and nod to the poor woman as she in turn stifled a yawn…misery loved company, and it seemed Rahja would be having some company in her exhaustion. No sooner had she given that little understanding nod than she felt another, vaguely familiar, presence heading toward them. The ding of the doors to the turbo lift made her turn her head slightly to see who this familiar presence might be. What met her eyes was…astounding (to say the least). The laughter that tumbled forth from the lift even made Sender swivel his head around to look, and as the door closed once more…the man still inside…the two looked at each other, one corner of the stoic chiss’ mouth twitching as she fought back a grin and her own laughter.

Sender, was that…..was that Mu’haro?

She asked the little droid, her voice only loud enough for those sitting directly beside, and across from, the chiss to hear and bubbling with amusement. The little bird-droid tilted its head as it looked at her through its receptors, beak parted in a ‘smile’.

I do believe it was.

The lift dinged again and this time the sound of footsteps echoed into her ears. Rah and Sender both turned their heads to watch the disheveled man, Rah blinking her amazement at the state of the typically tidy fellow sniper, as he snapped of an easy salute and announced himself. She cringed inwardly at his inflection of the word ‘failed,’ and sighed inwardly as she noted the missing AER droid, Ayer. A casualty of the operation she assumed. No sooner had she had time to think this than the man sat down beside her and patted her Sender on the head fondly. She smiled slightly, remembering the man from when he had first issued her the AER-04. He’d been rather amiable then, his little Ayer tucked away in his pack until he started explaining about the little droid and his part in Project Familiar. That was when the little grey and white “seagull” had popped his head out and decided to interject, completely confusing the poor chiss and actually managing to make her laugh during their little banter over technicalities. If Sender was also remembering this interaction, she didn’t know it. Reading a flesh and blood being’s thoughts was one thing, but one simply couldn’t read the thought processes of droids…at least not with the force, and if one could, she certainly didn’t know about it. Either way Sender had his attention tuned in to Sean.

Sean? Sean Mu’haro?…you look like crap…but, it’s good to see you again. Alive.

She may not have known the man well, but…he was a sniper (you had to take care of your own), he was a decorated man (that earned some respect from her because it meant he was good at what he did), and most importantly…he’d given her Sender. The azure woman felt she owed this man a lot…her life in fact. Sender had managed to keep her alive more than once, in that alone she owed him, but Sender was more than that to her…he was her partner and best friend. Yes, she owed this man more than he would ever know. The fact that she spoke to him so willingly and openly showed that…though she doubted he would understand this yet as he had nothing to base her personality toward others on.

You mistook me for…well, I can’t say I blame you under the circumstances. I’m doing fine Sean, but my name is Sender now, so feel free to drop the number.

Sender offered the man a “smile” and the dimming of one photoreceptor light as a “wink” (complemented by a light tilting of his head as well), at the end of his reply. Sender certainly had come far since the first day she’d met him, his personality expanding like a sponge as he absorbed more information about the interactions of the beings around him. The thought made her smile slightly and pat the back of the little droid fondly before tapping his head to get him to turn around as the lights dimmed and the commander started to lay out the information. Only a few words stuck in the woman’s mind, the key bits of information that created the images in her mind that would aid her through the mission.

Subterrel: a lovely little world filled with lovely little caves that were both a sniper’s best friend and worst enemy…oh joy. Little caves meant little room, and large caves meant lots of echo…neither of which was conducive to effective sniping. She let out a huff and shook her head.

Sith: Force and stars she hated Sith. She hadn’t met a good Sith officer yet, and she’d TRIED. No matter how cordial, nonchalant, detached, happy, angry, upset, cool, composed, ect. you were…you could run the gambit on emotions and personality traits, unless you were Sith (and most times not even then), they just WERE NOT good, decent, or even slightly agreeable. She never did like being in enemy territory, but she was used to it by now since, really, with her line of work, she LIVED in enemy territory. Whoever the military decided was a threat, they were next on her hit list…that could even mean the person sitting next to her. (she didn’t even want to THINK about being sent after Sean or Crass…that would be HORRIBLE. She’d go AWOL then and there)

Pirates: another joy. While fun to kill, pirates were the worst kind of tricky. Cautious to the point of not trusting their allies, and setting traps all over the kriffing place…not to mention they were never on time. Pirates had their own way of telling time, it was simple and went something along these lines: Drinking time, pillaging time, murder/rape/slavery time, sleeping time, eating time, fighting time, flying time, bathroom time, and (on occasion) meeting time. When these times were, or how long they lasted, was anyone’s guess…only the pirate ever really knew. Yet another thing to work against her and Sean. Snipers, while rather flexible with their time, were far more strict than pirates (hours and minutes just seemed to work better)…and there was nothing worse for a sniper than being in the wrong place at the wrong “time” when a pirate decided to be meandering through.

Finally things started to get interesting as six pictures appeared, five men and a woman, and the information about them listed below. She gave Sender another tap and he nodded, his audio/visual recorder clicking on as he too absorbed the information. Crass then listed the heads of the pirates, all five of th….wait…five? What of the woman? Rahja visibly perked up, sitting a bit more straight in her seat as she automatically started profiling the woman trying to figure just why she hadn’t been mentioned. Her question was swiftly answered by the sound of her and Sean’s names. Red eyes blinked over at Crass, glowing an eerie red in the dim light of the holo and the darkened room. As she listened attentively, the almond shaped orbs gave her a devilish look, her features becoming more angular and predatory in the glow of them…a Hell Hound the flesh. Hell Hound 02 to be exact, a member of the highly secretive branch of the Army’s military. By day a loosely formed “team” of rather…elite…soldiers called away on missions, but in truth a decidedly deadly group sent off to all corners of the galaxy to…silence…threats to the Republic. Few even knew of their existence within the army, and even less outside of it. The second member to join the team, it was now easy to see how Rahja had earned her second call name “Hell Hound.” As Crass laid out the details of her and Sean’s hit, the deep blue figure, shrouded by raven hair, gazed at him attentively, rarely blinking as she absorbed the details….at least this woman was OUTSIDE and not INSIDE.

Ha.

She stated, nodding her understanding as she turned her face away again to allow those crimson orbs take in the prey’s image once again. As the lights slowly burned into life once more and the images faded, Rahja was diminished down to her normal self again, the hellish shadow of her fading with the darkness around them. She had been about to voice a question when the com buzzed through. The message wasn’t a good one, and she knew already what was about to happen. No sooner had the conversation finished then Rah was on her feet, not even waiting for orders. She didn’t need any. Waiting as Sender brought himself to perch on her shoulder once more, she sighed heavily.

So much for that full day of rest.

With that she turned to Sean and the Cathar woman, but kept Crass in her sights, a small smirk forming on her face. A sniper rifle wouldn’t do in this situation, so it was going to be daggers for her.

No rest for the wicked I suppose…C’mon Sean, Miss Cathar…Cersa was it?...Let’s go kill some pirates so we don’t end up killing our commander for getting…keeping…us up at this hour. Oh, and pray for caf when we get back. That might lower the death toll in the recap also.

The chiss woman chuckled and gave a wink to the three as she spoke, already walking out the door with a jaunty wave as she gave Crass the verbal jab about death tolls in the recap meeting. Sender gave an obvious sigh as the doors to the lift closed behind them as if to say “what am I going to do with you?” When the time came, she would be ready and waiting…hell, she already WAS ready, all she needed were her daggers and it didn’t take her long to get them and stow them in the sheaths crossing along the back of her utility belt. After that it was off to figure out just where she needed to be.

Sitting at the front of the room, Pak didn't really get a glance at any of the others who had started to file in, but he heard them introduce themselves. But when he heard a very different accent flowing through, he just had to take a look behind himself before looking back at the front of the room. A Cathar, not too many of those had passed through his view in his lifetime. And a female one, at that. He deeply hoped she was not also a pilot; it would be a bit awkward for her to squeeze into the Venom fighters.

But before he could think any more about it, another man had entered, introducing himself. And whining on about some failed mission. Pak resisted rolling his eyes. Everyone had failed missions. And the man sounded young by his voice; he would have plenty of successful missions ahead of him. He should just suck it up and stop dwelling in the past. Pak almost groaned when Commander Vossk repeated almost the same thing outloud to the young soldier. It was bad enough that the Zeltron was obviously one of Shen's friends and a competitor for her attentions. He had to think like the man now, too?

Then the briefing started, and all other thoughts left Pak's mind as he focused on the mission ahead and what his role would be in it. Not only were they flying into Sith space, but they were going to be attacking pirates? This was the action the Balosar was hoping for. The last with the Aegis had been well and good, but it was fairly routine. But this one, this one sounded interesting, at least. He just hoped that there would be enough for him and the other flyboys to do; for now the commander was focusing on the ground troops.

He suppressed another groan as Vossk finally got to his and Shen's part in the mission. Guard duty; he almost huffed his displeasure. But at least the commander seemed to agree at the vaguely uninteresting role the pilots would play. For his own sake, he wanted the mission details to be right about the pirates' forces: the more ships for him to blow up and keep off the soldiers and ships' back, the better. Pak's trigger finger was almost itching already. Time to get this show on the road.

When the call came through that a medical frigate had been attacked and subsequently Commander Vossk ordered everyone at their stations, Pak wanted to holler a war whoop. Instead, he remained quiet and exited the room with the others, putting on his battle face and heading straight for the hangar where the Venom fighters were kept on the Ascension.

There were so many second glances, Cersa noticed, among these new faces. The Zeltron, her commander (Vossk, wasn’t it?) had a lingering gaze on her for a few moments, as if unsure about something. Brown eyes had settled on his face, one that read disinterest in whether or not there were others looking at her. She was very used to it. At least they weren’t gawking as some of the privates she had seen. Of course, these were some of the leaders, as she was beginning to see as she glanced about at ranks and insignias. Vossk turned his head away from her, appearing calm and cool, pointing his nose in the direction of the Miraluka and Balosar. The Balosar seemed rather smiley at the Miraluka woman, though it tipped to a straight line a bit when she had walked into the room. He turned back to the Miraluka when kind of an informational sweep toward her. Cersa’s eyes flicked back over to the Commander, taking in his expression at the two. It wasn’t nice to assume, but Cersa was guessing some kind of love triangle between the three; the Miraluka, the Balosar, and –she’d really have to check her datapad for confirmation of her Commander’s name, despite she believed it was Vossk- the Commander. Interesting…

Cersa’s lips parted once more in a yawn, fangs flashing briefly before she once more covered her mouth. Her jaw clicked with some sound as she shut her mouth, unable to help the way her bite was set to cause the small clack. She shifted in her seat, planting her elbow into the armrest and leaning her chin atop of curled fingers. There was a casual, almost informal, air settling among this group. Cersa would let that play to her advantage, as she lifted her head to glance about the room, in case there were some kind of caf or coffee dispensers about. There didn’t seem to be anyway. Blast. Hopefully she wouldn’t fall asleep, she thought as her chin once against took it’s perch on her hand.

The Chiss sat two seats down from the Cathar. And that… was an interesting character all on her own. Her cloak had a bit of a glare on it, making the feline-like species blink in some bewilderment. She tipped her head some against her fingers, making a couple crack softly. That must be some sort of disguise thing the Chiss carried on her. A spy of some kind? A sniper? The cloak seemed to mirror back to Cersa, and she knew that the Chiss wasn’t walking around with only a head and an arm protruding from no where. It has to be. Cersa was leaning further to a sniper of some kind. It seemed to click and make a little more sense to the Cathar. What spy would want to have a rather… strange metallic bird, that was rather loud by the way, hopping around her?

Her datapad chimed loudly and Cersa’s brow furrowed lightly. Her native tongue’s slight rumble for an apology poured from her mouth, shifting in her seat to remove the datapad easily. She pushed a button and stared at the screen for a moment. Ah, her brother. Wondering if she got to her new, nothing but floating decks of metal safely. Her thumb moved quickly, bringing up a previously written message and sent it to him, stating her current situation was busy. Her thumb flashed again and she set the datapad on silent before resting it on the edge of the table. Her cheek flattened against her hand, eyelids fluttering closed after a scan on the human, in the new dress uniform (lovely), finding nothing of major interest to her.

The sudden howl of laughter startled the Cathar, making her back straighten suddenly and her claws flash out halfway in surprise. Her ears shot up, bristled lightly as the rest of her was. She was in time to witness a man throwing himself back into an elevator, clutching his side and leaning against the wall as the doors to the lift shut. Cersa looked at the gathered beings around her, eyebrow tipped upward as her claws slid back into their sheaths. Her ears lowered and her fur laid flat again. She needed to stop being surprised at the little things about her on the ship she was supposed to be friendly toward. In a way, Cersa understood that her surprise toward sudden things couldn’t really be helped. It was a learned instinct. She had been taught to be ready to act. And if that meant jumping at the sound of a cackling man, so be it. However, had she been fully awake, the Cathar knew she hadn’t have made the mistake of letting her claws show.

The Chiss was consulting her bird with a faint smile. Really now? With a now steady and curious gaze, Cersa spoke: “Am I to believe that some of us KNOW this creature, and he perhaps isn’t a deranged fellow merely on the wrong cruise liner?” Her ears folded against her head tightly. “No offense to any of that, of course, but… Heh, maybe’s he’s just as tired as some of the rest of us and seeing the floating blue head of a Chiss as well the rest of this… odd group we seem to have here in a briefing room today was a bit too much for him.” Those deep eyes glanced at the Chiss, eyes sparkling a little despite her exhaustion that lingered there. “But, if he does turn out to be a deranged fellow, mind if I escort him to the airlocker?” She said this with a small but quirky twist of the lips. Her datapad vibrated and her face scowled at it as if it were lunch trying to run away from her.

The man in the elevator returned, the doors opened to reveal the ragtag appearance of him. Sweatpants, a jacket, undershirt and an untrimmed and wild beard growth beginning to sprout from his jaw. Cersa blinked at first, taking in this appearance for the first time, for all she had been able to see of him falling into the elevator was a gaping jaw and a swirl of brief color. She blinked again, and fell into snickers at his appearance, her shoulders shaking as she laughed silently as he saluted. This was simply classic. Cersa would’ve rather have been late than come to debriefing dressed and looking like the way this newcomer did. He dared to do it, when so many believed the military professional and uptight at all times. This definitely proved that common rumor so very wrong. In fact, she could guess that this entire group was below that standards of so many people. The man sat between the Cathar and Chiss, and she the Chiss’s comment, Cersa clutched a fist on the table, the opposite hand covering her tightly shut eyes as she struggled to retain her laughter. Her shoulders trembled violently, slight wheezing sounds of restraint struggling to come through her and she was faced away from the newcomer. After a few moments, Cersa was able to find her control. Willing her eyes of moisture, she turned to the important business as it began: the briefing.

Cersa maneuvered her fingers across her datapad, the light from it basking her facial features and giving her a rather eerie appearance whenever she looked up to study whatever it was she deemed important worth looking at. The ear closest to Vossk –and his name WAS Vossk- rose slightly higher at the mention of special forces, listening for her part in this as she studied and captured parts to store on her datapad for that study time before the mission was launched. She was smirking up until Vossk said he would like more blood in than out. A pity. Pirates never wanted anything more than the blood of their opposing forces to be spilt. He mentioned that the five pirates being dead would work, too. But, he said that last, making that a last option if the opportunity of taking them alive was open. Cersa made sure to shift a swift note of that onto her datapad, just as a bleak reminder even though she’d probably remember the fact well.

And then the distress call alarm kicked in. Cersa stopped what she was doing, staring down at her datapad, and looked sideways at her Zeltron commander. Silently as ever, she watched him, and nodded to herself when he decided to rescue the ship. Good human-like man. His reasoning was sufficient for Cersa.

But, she’d only had thirty minutes of sleep in the past twenty-seven hours. To this, her lip curled slightly as she stood. The Cathar woman checked herself, however, making sure her face was composed. She picked up on what Ma’am Kel had to say about a full day’s rest. They were supposed to have a full day’s rest? Cersa wouldn’t know since her biological and environmental settings were jostled.

A light snort came from her when the Chiss addressed her as ‘Miss Cathar’. Curious. “Yes, ma’am, my name is Cersa. I apologize if my accent made that hard to understand.” Cersa was in front of the Chiss when they were walking from the room. When Kel made a statement about caf, the Cathar’s shoulders bobbed shallowly again. “I know what you mean, ma’am. I was really hoping for some coffee myself. Ah, well, the best stimulant will be adrenaline. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a little behind in the preparation of this sudden add to our schedule.”

And as soon as Cersa was clear from the lift, her walk became a normal person’s run. Entering her quarters, she was everywhere at once. Objects she had left in her pack were dumped. One of the first things she did was shove a protein rich snack into her mouth, chewing massively bitten corners in her mouth as she was quick to exchange her dress uniform for her light armored combat suit. She threw water on her hair before taking a can, rattling it’s contents, and spraying down the stuff to catch and hold her hair in place. The protein snack was scarfed before she slung her sword over her head. A snap secured her belt and little fwicks assumed as she slid spar throwing knives into their respective slots. She hunted her dress pants for a moment for that one flicking knife and her ever trusty datapad. Her stomach gnawed worse now, and her tiredness was still there. But every step she took from her cabin brought on the pre-adrenaline and the nervousness of a battle.

”Now, where the for this place. What good does a datapad do you if it doesn’t tell you were to are? Smart droid…”hell would I go to board from this huge tin container? I really need to get those schematics

((Alright, its been well over a week since the last post. Sorry Arh, Jace, Eclipse... but it was just starting to get ridiculous and Crass was constantly bothering me about it.

colored italicized = thoughts that any force sensitives can hear, unless said otherwise in the post. Also: I am leaving it up to you guys to breach... it is your job after all ^_~))

With that said Crass left the briefing room and headed up to the bridge of the Ascension, some pirates needed killing, and his ship was the one built to do it. The trek up to the bridge was rather uneventful… although he did notice that some of the female members of the crew were giving him looks. There were two reasons why he didn’t give them that look right back, (normally he probably would, but that was the furthest it would go) first and foremost: He didn’t have the time, they were about to start a brawl with a few pirate ships. Secondly: Well… the Zeltron couldn’t explain the second reason as to why he didn’t give them a little flirtatious look back.

While yes, Crassus was the polar opposite of the stereotype that the galaxy oh so easily smacked on every single Zeltron’s forehead, flirtatious, promiscuous, and in a constant horny state, he was still like most guys. If a girl was flirting with him he would flirt right back. The man shook off these musings as the turbo lift nearly reached the top of the bridge tower.

Now was neither the time nor was it the place to be thinking about why he did or did not flirt with a woman. “Maybe it’s Ra-,” He squelched the thought almost the instant that it crept out of the dark corner of his mind. She probably heard it… and would be wondering where it came from, who said it, and why. Even if the Chiss woman did know that Crass had thought it she would be wondering the latter… he desperately hoped that his thought didn’t reach her mental ears.

The man was barely out of the turbo lift before the psychedelic hues of the hyperspace tunnel abruptly ended to reveal a pair of glorified pirate corvettes and one medical frigate. One of the latter was clamped to the former, and the other pirate ship didn’t even know what was coming. The Ascension was armed to the teeth with weapons, it was one of the heaviest armed destroyers in the entire Republican fleet (second only to the Aegis.)

“Bring us in close… broadside… we are going to slag those corsairs before they have a chance to go: yar… thar be a ship!”

His somewhat morbid order solicited a slight chuckle amongst the bridge hands despite the grimness of the orders. Sometimes it was a good thing to chuckle, especially when tensions were running so high. Crass caught some of his subordinates smirking slightly… they must have been thinking something along the lines of: “He definitely isn’t the normal Navy REMF.” No, Commander Crassus Vossk was not your average REMF. That much was for certain. The Ascension was nearly within visual range of the pirate ship before Crass gave the go-ahead to light up those corsair dogs like the sky during Ossus day.

The Corsair’s of the Iron Serpent really had no clue how much trouble they were truly in. Until they saw it: In the distance fluorescent green, blue, and white hues barreled towards their quaint little ship at incredible speeds. The Captain barely had time to maneuver before the laser bolts hammered into his ship’s shields, which were nearly half down in the first salvo. Between the crew scrambling to get into fighters, escape pods, and to their posts no-one saw the missile salvo fly towards them… not that they could do anything but watch.

The missiles peppered against the ship’s shields as it began to try and evade the coming storm. By the time that the final missile hit the Iron Serpent’s shields were beginning to flicker, and after but a few moments they winked off as the ship’s only shield generator was fried by the energy that it was receiving from the power plant.

Commander Vossk gave an insidious smile as he gazed out of the view port with his hands behind his back. The single word: ”murked” flashed across his mind as he turned back to his bridge hands for a few moments.

“Lets finish them so we can get our boys and girls in there.”

Crass slowly turned around to watch the deconstruction of the corvette, which was coming sure and swift. The blackness of the relatively small void between the two ships soon erupted into bright hues of blue and green, with a few white flashes from the disrupter bolts as they ripped through space. With each of the colored rays of light and plasma that hit the brigand ship's hull another small sized explosion dotted its surface. It didn't take long for the ship to be little more than a strewn heap of scrap metal and molten durasteel.

As if on cue he heard the voice of Lt. Sharkal asking for orders... wasn't that kind of self explanatory? He wasn't about to have everyone all suited up and ready to go and NOT send them to their ships. That would just be silly. Crass tried his hardest not to sound annoyed, but stoic instead.

“Lt. Sharkal, get down to the hanger deck and get on those drop ships.”

The Zeltron slowly shifted his gaze back up to the medical frigate and he couldn't the flash of pity that crossed his mind. He had been in the same position as these people were almost two decades before, only in his case there wasn't an experimental Destroyer to annihilate his captors. Instead he was forced to become one of them and in turn “question” many people on the whereabouts of their cargo.

The man shook his head slightly as those memories bubbled up within him, “No. Crass, now is not the time for the woes of your childhood. Now is the time to stop those woes from happening to someone else,” he thought as the dropships slowly came into his line of sight.

Within minutes all four of the ships had docked with the medical ship, and their contents no doubt unleashed hell on those things that called themselves “men.”

Now that I've got it all Figured out, I may as well give a decent reason as to why Damien wasn't at the meeting.
Damien's Speech
Damien's Thoughts
Ishtar's Speech
=========================================

He hadn't gone to the briefings, Sean would fill him in anyhow. It wasn't disrespect, it wasn't that he didn't care. No, the man had had things to do. He had hoped that his message would get to the Commander, but odds were that it hadn't. After the Failed mission on Nar Shadaa, his squad's ranks had never been replenished, until they had arrived on this ship, where a set of the shiniest recruits he had ever seen had met them, Each and every one of them hoping to Join the Elite, the best, the H.A.L.O.A.T.W.

It had taken several days to weed the raw and uninspiring out, even longer to take down and out those who thought they had it, but didn't. It was an odd character trait, but those in the Squad that Damien ran had to be the best, had to know that they were the best, and had to accept death as a part of life. It wasn't regulation, but his personal training had pushed at least one into the medical bay with enough trauma to kill a normal person...he had been one of the ones to Join.

Where before all that had been left of Damien's Squad were Sean, Ellemaiare, Emmath and Kirk, Kirk had left the service soon afterward, his soul too haunted by the death of his Compatriots to go on fighting. Now, where the Squad had once only been comprised of Ten, there were Twelve, not including the package that he had gotten in the post today.

Having heard of the Upcoming Boarding Mission from a passing Shipman, Damien had assembled his Squad in the Hangers, and was now looking them over. Armor for this mission would be lightweight, not as bulky as their usual armor, which would help them in the tight corridors of the Medical ship. Smiling as he passed Ellemaiare in the line, Damien allowed his mind to wander to the ring that sat on her finger, under the armor...as soon as this set of missions was over, they would be married, in the Devaronian style.

The only one not in Line yet was Sean, but he had been acting as Damien's proxy at the meetings, and as Damien looked over his new team, he felt a sort of pride swell in his chest when he spoke to them.

Listen up. This is going to be our Test run. It seems that we're expanding beyond planetary surfaces to Climbing into Big old tin cans and Busting some ass. he said, eyes scanning over them, running through the names in his mind. There was "Heat" as he called himself, carrying a pair of Fuel tanks and the Extension that would allow him to spew flames over anything in his way..."Snips" a slicer that had somehow managed to pass through even Damien's Physical requirements, amazing for a nerd. Beyond him were Kitty and Tails, aside from Sean, two of the only people he trusted. The two new Heavy Gunners, assigned to the Ball-turrets on the Transports were Well-built, one of them Called by his teammates "Tank" and the other "Hoss" in a funny sort of way. Beside them stood the new Riflemen, Unnamed by the Unit yet, they were Lanky and narrow of eye, Good at Discerning targets. The Demolitions and Explosives Boys wouldn't be coming with them on this trip though, too much danger of Critical Damage on that front.

Their armor was customized by each, painted flames licking the bottom of Heat's breastplate and boots, whiskers decorating Kitty's Helmet. They had trained together for long enough to know one another, and trust one another, and they all, somehow, trusted Damien. Lifting his Rifle up, Damien checked his in Silence, going through all the Pre-battle steps. They were going in hot. Clear the Main Hanger area where the Transports would be landing, then Moving through and Clearing out anyone that didn't belong.

With a soft rustling noise, a Female figure behind Damien moved closer to him, speaking in a soft tone of voice. My apologies, but I am unable to access a map of the corridors at this time, once onboard the Vessel, I should be able to Construct an accurate map so that we can move Quickly and efficiently she said, causing The Master Sergeant to raise an Eyebrow. This Girl...wasn't. She wasn't really "Alive" according to the Scientists, she wasn't an official part of the unit. What she was was an Advanced Combat Reconnoitering droid, a part of the AER series that Sean had participated in. He didn't know how he merited this one, but rather then Call it by it's lengthy Numerical name, he had called her Ishtar, after one of the Characters of Humanity Past.

Smiling as he spoke, unseen beneath the helmet, Damine addressed his men once more. We will be divided into Squads, 3 teams of 4, Alpha squad, you're with me, Beta Squad, you Follow Sean, Delta Squad, you're on Ellemaiare's Tail. Listen to orders, shoot what doesn't belong. Avoid civilian Causalities at all cost. In the case of a hostage situation, I want to be contacted immediately

Raising a hand, he motioned, and as the pilots and other Crew that would be going into the Ship started to arrive, his men were already boarding their Transport. They were ready to rock and roll.

Jarka received his orders from the bridge.

"Time to rock and roll, hangar double time!" shouted the Second Lieutenant.

The soldiers all moved quickly to the hangar and boarded their dropship. Jarka took his position at the back of the dropship, he would be the first one in, and if he could help it, the last one out.

"Alright, we are being sent to eliminate all hostile forces aboard a stranded medical frigate. If we see any crew members, they are to be secured and if needed taken care of. I want bayonets attached. Prepare for close combat, as the halls of these ships are not very big," briefed Lieutenant Sharkal.

As the dropships took off, Jarka cleared his mind and put on a soldier mind set he had been preparing, he would kill without thinking and only think strategically. He slid his bayonet onto the barrel of the M25e2 blaster rifle and took it off safety. In a few minutes, he felt the dropship dock and the green light was given. The door slid open and Jarka gave a hand signal for a perimeter set up. The soldiers took positions and waited for orders.

"Move, we are sweeping the corridors, no pirates are to be left alive!" ordered Jarka.

He lead his fireteams quickly into the halls of the ship. Thats when he heard something roll on the ground.

"Grenade!" shouted a Mon Calamarian carbineer. The hall was cleared and the men took cover in little corners. There were six pirates about five meters ahead of them. It was a split in the hall and three pirates were on each side of it. The fire teams opened fire. Jarka himself killed two, his bursts hitting one man in the chest and neck, and another of his bolts hit a Trandoshan square in the eye.

Jarka made a hand signal for the men to move up. They checked either side of the split and saw nothing.

"Fire team Cresh, take point, Aurek you have our flank and Besh, you are in the middle!" ordered Jarka.

The teams moved down the hallway swiftly, they checked several rooms. All were clear, a few had slaughtered crew members in them. As they came up to the main hospital, it was too quiet. The four men of Cresh and Jarka stepped through the doorway and suddenly, a large group of pirates charged, swords, knives and knucklers swinging. Jarka stabbed a Cathar pirate in the chest and kicked him down. The infantrymen were surrounded by the pirates. The bloody hand-to-hand combat that ensued would haunt Jarka for a long time.

The pirates fought with a brutal ruthlessness that could only be matched by the soldiers' training and determination to win. Jarka had already savagely beat several of the seemingly endless crowd of pirates. He watched as a corporal was taken down and stabbed to death and one of his sergeants was impaled on a pike. Jarka himself had been stabbed in the shoulder and had a bad gash on his shin. Eventually, the pirates were beaten back and all killed.

Jarka had lost only two of his men, and the medic was dealing with the other beaten and bruised soldiers. The Lieutenant was covered in both his own blood and the blood of three pirates he had fought and barely won against. Eventually, a Twi'lek nurse that had been hiding in a locker showed herself and helped care for the wounded. Jarka had just gotten his first taste of combat, and already he felt older. He was surprised that he had killed three people in the horrible struggle, his specialty was not in hand-to-hand combat, not at all. After everyone was patched up, the soldiers and the nurse were forced to move on.

Jarka lead his men at the front once again, just in time to catch a blast from some sort of explosive to his left. The young, inexperienced lieutenant hit a wall a meter and a half from his position, his arm was nearly cut off by a piece of flying durasteel, it was not hanging limply and his left side was cut and burned from the blast. The lieutenant, passed out from the pain shortly after the explosion. The last sergeant in the squad called in to any support there could be on the ship.

"This is Fireteam Gold, we need back up two meters down the left hall of the medical bay! Our C.O. is down from some kind of IED hit! We need medical support!" commed Bakkara.

The tremours and flickering lights had begun almost without warning. The only hint that had been given beforehand was a bit of shouting further down the corridor. The immediate shaking had knocked her over, sending the cane sliding several feet across the floor. She bashed a fist on the ground, crawling towards it. Typical Republic, turning up late as usual. She wrapped a hand around the cane, pushing herself up and moving to a seat before the tremours caused her to fall again. She looked at the flickering light at the ceiling, before turning to the medical droid.

"Is the ceiling supposed to be sagging like that?"
The droid floated closer, switching its lens to looking up.
"I do believe, Doctor, that there is something pu-"
The droid's sentence was cut in half, just like the droid, as the ceiling light fixture came loose, swinging through and into the droid. Jessica dived aside as ceiling tiles and droid pieces fell everywhere around. A crate slit across the large hole, wedging itself in the maw like a plug, and she could hear voices above.
She picked herself up once more, glancing at the only company she'd had for pretty much the entire voyage. The medical droid fizzled a bit as she moved past it. She didn't really need the droid, it was pretty much there for either patient reassuring, just for show, or sometimes she let it administer the treatments while she was asleep or watching Holonet.

She came up against a large medical cabinet she'd hardly been in before. The last, and only, time she'd been in here was to deposit the droid she had been given on behalf of the Republic military. A prototype. She'd never bothered to use it, leaving it offline and untouched. It wasn't that she didn't like it, but since the medical droid had been in less than two parts at that point she hadn't needed it. She picked up the box containing the droid, setting it down on a counter and looking once more at the few instructions. Apparently the droid was self explanatory. She removed the bird-like droid and sat it on its feet in front of her. She looked at it briefly. It hadn't changed since she'd first looked at it. She pushed a small button behind its neck and it sprung to life.

"AER Droid Zero-Six Wexon Online." The bird's screech almost caused Jessica to ram a ringer into its throat if it would have helped.
"Be quiet Wexon. Situation rundown: I'm Doctor Jessica Chezz. I use a cane because of an infarction on my right leg. I might reach for this." She pulled out a bottle from inside her pocket, hovering it in front of the droid's photoreceptors. "This is pain relief. If you annoy me, I'll be going straight for this. I hold degrees and diplomas in Psychology, Diagnostics, Counselling, Surgery, Nutrition, Viral and Bacterial Infections, Medication pretty much any rare illness you can list. You are here to pretty much keep me company, and do the things I basically can't be bothered." She concluded with a twirl of her cane. The droid blinked.
"Very well doctor, I look forward to working with you."

Shenhua's exterior remained stoic as Crassus acknowledged her presence. She would have liked to slap him, since he could trust her with anything in this universe.

Commander Vossk eh? looks like someone is all grown up,keeping secrets n all that jazz

She pushed those thoughts aside for now, and focused on the task at hand. She 'watched' as a variety of personnel entered the briefing room, and found themselves a seat. She could sense that there were more than a few interesting characters aboard this ship. Crassus began detailing the orders, and she sat a little straighter when hers were given out.

Only moments later, the commander received a report, and they were dropping out of hyperspace. It sounded like someone was in trouble, and they could use a little help. Crassus gave brief but simple orders, to which Shen immediately stood up, and made her way out of the room. After jogging over to the hangar, she found the rest of teh squad who were not at the briefing ready to go. She could sense doubt in some of the pilots and she couldn't blame them. They hadn't had much chance to fly together, and some were still skeptical about their blind squadron leader.

"listen up people, sounds like we got some baddies out there, trying to take what isn't theirs. We will most likely be encountering some light resistance. Our priority is to protect the medical frigate, and the insertion team....move!"

She quickly made her way over her Venom, and strapped in moments later. She heard a quick series of high pitched beeps, and gave a little laugh.

"Calm down Arthas, we will be just fine"

She ran through the usual startup procedures, and received a beep indicating that all systems were operational. Finally she put on her helmet and spoke into it through the comm.

"This is Viper, all units report"

She received a series of "Ready" clicks through her comm unit, and began final launch procedure. She increased the throttle, and the Venom shot out of the Ascension's bay, followed by the rest of the squad. Things seemed to be relatively quiet in terms of her duties, until she heard a rapid series of beeps.

"We got fighters incoming from both the left and the right!break off and engage!"

With those orders, Shenhua banked left and raced towards the fighters approaching their position.