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To Reclaim what was lost

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#1
Kirchenhof

Kirchenhof

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Joan Lunor

Reclaimer-class Assault Ship

 

Joan's hands clutching a pair of guiding sticks make a series of gestures. Guiding Malachor One into its berth aboard the great Reclaimer-class Assault Ship; A new vessel with the purpose of transporting troops and material. "That's it! Keep going, back it up!" The carnivorous armoured behemoth slowly plods backwards towards the vessel's Quadanium-reinforced Durasteel Hull. Joan's voice penetrates into the boom microphone sitting in front of red lips, connecting to a head harness. Joan's thoughts turn to the bed that is waiting for her in her cramped albeit homely officer's quarters. The enlisted personnel, at least her enlisted Stormtroopers and NCOs shared sleeping facilities to save space. Malachor comes to a halt and its crew shut down the Locomotors, Joan breathes a sigh of relief through nostrils. And peels the communication headset off of her blonde crown. Pivoting in boots, Joan's eyes are greeted by the sheer size of the Reclaimer's cargo hold. Atmospheric Assault landers kept in a rotating rack above the hanger floor around the vertical launch stations for the purpose of boarding troops on the station railed gangways.

 

Rexus Wenck Aran Piett Zmej Ren Pharazon Draken


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#2
Rexus Wenck

Rexus Wenck

    Punished Rexus

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The Gundark Gunners worked double time, hauling heavy equipment aboard the vessel. "Move it up ya bloody wankers!" Rexus barked, as he carried a crate filled with thermal detonators up a ramp. "I want the rest of this pooddo hauled up in twenty, do I make myself clear lads?" 

"Yes boss!" A trooper grunted, hauling a pack filled with rations and canteens. The Gunners were heaving their own equipment for their upcoming deployment. 

Rexus sat back, and waved over Sergeant Dergan Twigg. "What is it bossman?" Twigg asked, landing his crate of rifles on the ground, before stretching. 

"You got the stuff?" Rexus asked, making sure no one from out of the unit was watching. 

"Yeah, yeah. This crates full of rifles." Twigg said, standing tall. 

Rexus shook his head, "I meant the other stuff moron!" Rexus snapped, cupping his head and slamming it behind Twigg's head. The helmet almost came off, and the trooper grunted. 

"Sorry, sorry." Twigg said, wincing, "It's all good, we got it stowed." 

 

"You better, I spent a kark tonne on that poodoo." Rexus snarled, "After moving all this stuff, I demand a karking drink." 

 

FN-888



#3
Kirchenhof

Kirchenhof

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Joan Lunor

Reclaimer-class Assault Ship

 

Joan's head snaps in the direction of a most raucous and unprofessional exchange between a group of Stormtroopers, without her heads up display she cannot identify them. Joan's body pivots in Rexus' direction in boots. Joan's feet carry the Stormtrooper Officer towards Rexus with a frightening speed, many members of the Ironguard and watch cringing with anticipation at the upcoming confrontation between what they can see is two Army Captains with two very different styles of leadership. Joan's left-hand goes clutching at Rexus' shoulder and goes to turn him around to face a somewhat irritated Joan with a scowl on her face. "Trooper, what is the cause of all this commotion? Have you been exposed to a nerve agent?" Joan growls the question at the undisciplined and unprofessional Rexus, Joan looks at him expectantly with blue eyes, pupils flex and fan the narrow gold rings around her pupils out. "Do I need to remind you that the consumption of alcohol while on duty is a chargeable offence?" The manner in which Joan speaks would instantly identify her origins as a child 'volunteer' for the Stormtroopers, her memories know nothing of life before the Military and her whole world revolves around it, the chain of command and regulation.

 

Rexus Wenck


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#4
Rexus Wenck

Rexus Wenck

    Punished Rexus

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Rexus rounds on her, wearing a scowl beneath his helmet. He listens to her condescendingly lecture him on the illegalities of alcoholic consumption, and asking if a moron was stupid enough to set off one of those karking gas grenades. The soldier rolled his eyes, "Kark off." he plainly says, "What sort of authority does some dumpy moron like yourself 'ave?" Rexus snarled, "Look sweet thighs, how about you spread your legs for that nice platoon over there, and let the real troopers get on with their day?" 

Twigg exploded into laughter, "Holy kark, holy kark, he did. He actually did it!" Twigg doubled over, struggling to breath, "Mary Mother of Vader, you madman." 

Rexus shook his head, "Shut the kark up Twigg." he snapped "And get back to hauling those crates up 'ere." 

Twigg nodded, "Alright, alright, I get it." The sergeant replied, running back down the gangplank. Rexus leaned up against the pile of crates, and unsealed his helmet, gently pulling a cigarette from his utility belt. 

 

FN-888



#5
Kirchenhof

Kirchenhof

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Joan Lunor

Reclaimer-class Assault Ship

 

Joan's scowl intensifies. "That should be 'Kark off, Captain.'" Joan's voice holds a disturbing calm, something inhibiting normal and perfectly rational anger given the sheer offensiveness of the Trooper's disrespect to a commissioned Officer. "I didn't come here to compare loading ramps with you Trooper, but I'll be damned if you handle First Order with such carelessness in my presence." Joan's left-hand points to the pile of crates Rexus Wenck leans against and summons a passing Navy loadmaster to their 'civilised' conversation and offers a reminder. "Make sure the contents of these crates are verified and match the description of this Trooper's issued inventory." Joan gives a dismissive wave to any protest or vulgar insult Rexus might offer up in protest. Inwardly Joan feels anger boil through her veins, constrained from lashing out by an unnatural construct that made up part of her nervous system. Rexus will find Joan's gaze to be cold; without the warmth of frustration or kindness, quite off-putting for some. Since the battle of Kaeshana Joan had been dealing with a new-found Anger that she could find no release for, no catharsis that always seemed to be robbed from her; This state of being has caused her great stress of late exasperated by a related lack of sleep.

 

Rexus Wenck


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#6
Rexus Wenck

Rexus Wenck

    Punished Rexus

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Rexus lit his cigarette, and took a long drag from it. He watched as the Gunners hauled up the final portion of their gear. Bacta, field medical kits and of course, spare parts. Since the Battle of Kaeshana, at least a third of the platoon now had some form of robotic prosthesis. From minor things like fingers, and eyes, all the way up to multiple arms and legs needing to be replaced. From the corner of his eye, Rexus saw the loadmaster coming. Obviously stick-in-the-arse from earlier had summoned the man to inspect the equipment. Fortunately, Rexus had a trump card. "Top of the afternoon to you." 

"Afternoon captain," The officer curtly said, "Due to the newness of this ships model and type, and the fact the crew's still a little green, I would appreciate having them train in turning over your equipment. Standard procedure and all that." 

Rexus nodded, and took a drag, "Sure thing," Rexus said, "Just not this crate here." Rexus added, pointing at the crate at the lowest level. 

"And why would that be?" The officer asked, arching an eyebrow to the man. Now was time to unveil his trump card. 

"It's authorised by Marshal Asharard Graush. He ordered we keep this crate sealed, for his own use." Rexus said. 

"Can I have some sort of documentation?" The officer asked. 

"Sure guv." Rexus replied, picking up his data pad, and passing it to the man. On it was a notice, directing any and all personnel not to open this crate unless under the orders of Graush, or one of his close officers. One of the few named, was Rexus. It held what seemed to be the tacticians signature, but was in fact an immaculate forgery. 

The officer looked mildly impressed, "Alright, but we'll have to search the others." 

"Go ahead," Rexus said, "Make my day."

 

FN-888



#7
Kirchenhof

Kirchenhof

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Joan Lunor

Reclaimer-class Assault Ship

 

Joan's white armour sheathed arms fold across the breast, with blue spheres leering at Rexus accusingly. What a grovelling snake! It was beyond belief that such a being was worthy of wearing the esteemed white armour of Sieger Ren's Stormtroopers. Joan's lips grumble some derogatory remark about Rexus' duplicitous nature beneath her breath. The emphasis placed on one particular crate grips Joan's hawkish attention, and she shoots a left knife-hand towards this 'authorised' crate. "Why would the Marshal have a Captain bring aboard this own personal effects?" Joan snatches the datapad from the loadmaster's hands and looks over it with an inquisitor's attentiveness and ire, eyes reading through the notice and stops at the immaculately forged signature. Joan's cheek begins to twitch uncontrollably, entering a catatonic state for a moment before going to hand the Datapad pack to Rexus firmly. "It's signed by Marshal Graush, everything is in order there." Joan's tone shifts into something more professional and dispassionate in stark contrast to her earlier irritated composure. Attention shoots towards the Loadmaster and waits for him to carry out the inspection of the crates' contents.

 

Rexus Wenck


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#8
Pharazon Draken

Pharazon Draken

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Pharazon and the 189th Grenadier Company were also busy loading a variety of equipment and hardware onto this Reclaimer Class Assault Ship. He and his pale armoured company worked comparatively quietly to some of the other troop formations loading equipment, and Pharazon had to several times redirect his trooper’s attention away from the apparent confrontation occurring elsewhere on the loading ramp. There was a wide variety of equipment that was being loaded into this rather impressively sized cargo hold, crates full of rifles, ammunition, armour, heavy weapons, explosives, the sheer quantity and variety of the supplies being loaded across the ramps greatly impressing Pharazon. The ship itself was of lesser interest to the combat stormtrooper officer, but from what he knew the capacity of the ship was but one of several of its well rounded capabilities.

 

Pharazon had little time for petty squabbles between other officers, but knew he could not simply ignore it and allow the situation to continue to affect his trooper’s loading efforts. Marching purposely over the Quadanium reinforced durasteel that made up much of the new ship class’ armour and plating, Pharazon approached the near quarreling officers. He recognised Joan and her disciplinarian command style, but was not familiar with this Rexus Wenck. He appeared to be a stormtrooper officer like Joan and Pharazon, but seemed decidedly different in attitude than they.

 

Approaching the pair, Pharazon addressed them both. “I trust everything is proceeding according to all proper orders and loading procedures” Pharazon began firmly and professionally to the two, in addition to this inspecting officer or loadmaster, if a slight bite noticeable in his tone. He did however give both a respectful nod and crisp salute, as was befitting their respective officer ranks.

 

“I would be displeased to learn that not even fellow stormtrooper officers were able to operate together… or were unable to… properly ensure the contents of supply crates, no matter their owners aboard a new starship such as this” Pharazon said, voice still firm, but serpentine suspicion evident in his voice even if he made no direct accusations. He eyed this Wenck with an appraising and piercing glance. He had heard some of his comments concerning Captain Lunor but he did not directly raise them, but he made sure that this Wenck knew his rather unprofessional comments to a fellow officer had not gone unnoted. He watched as Joan reviewed the documentation of this offending crate, and decided to not protest or contest her orders and confirmation that things were in order.

 

“If I might be permitted to observe the inspection, this... interruption... must not further disrupt the loading operations” Pharazon said pointedly, he knew his men were becoming more and more interested in this area of the great loading ramp, more so than their duty to load the diverse variety of supplies into the great maw of ship and its reinforced cargo hold. No matter whether things were in order or not, Pharazon was of more use here than he was with his own men supervising the loading as his initial orders and procedures were continuing to be performed effectively, no doubt aided by the loading capabilities and procedures of this new starship.

 

FN-888  | Rexus Wenck


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#9
Rexus Wenck

Rexus Wenck

    Punished Rexus

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Rexus starred as the female captain turned from irate bastard, about to whoop him, to a bloody protocol droid. The captain shrugged it off, but was annoyed when a third captain entered the fray. Was this not already a crowded enough situation? Did more cooks need to spoil the karking broth? Nonetheless, Rexus politely listened to the man. 

 

"Are all other captains morons?" Rexus asked aloud, taking a drag from his cigarette, before looking at Pharzon, "Look, I get it, we're all trying to do our jobs here, but I don't think it's neccessary for you to stay and watch." He then paused, he supposed he might just be a little green, "Look, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, but it's just, it's just annoying."

The loadmaster ignored the interruption, and waved over an inspection crew. "If you'd please sir," he gestured to Rexus, "We're going to have to search all these crates." 

 

Rexus sighed and walked away from the crates. A dozen or so hangar technicians walked over and began to haul off crates, opening their contents and beginning to work through them. Carefully and methodically.

 

Pharazon Draken | FN-888



#10
Pharazon Draken

Pharazon Draken

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Pharazon glared, not amused, at this Captain Wenck’s comments, though he did back away slightly in order to be able to continue to direct his own men with signals. He was not entirely so much a fool to not be able to find at least a small element of truth in his rather uncouth comments. Pharazon had more important things to do than intervene in other officer’s business on another section of the loading ramp. However, watching the Captain take another drag from his cigarette and his next set of comments, Pharazon was not moving his massive armoured if unhelmeted form away quickly either.

 

Fixing this other Captain with another look Pharazon, replied, voice lower and discernibly less professional this time. “I have little concern for your presumptions concerning my mental capacity, Captain, nor for your views of those of the wider officer corps” Pharazon said, an edge of a serpentine edge in his voice once again.

 

“However, I find disruptions and… irregularities... such as this, how did you put it… annoying” Pharazon said, the edge sharpening.

 

“Almost as annoying as I find your… approach… toward operating and cooperating with fellow officers” Pharazon finished, remaining in his position, voice lowering, glare evident.

 

“I care little for the contents of those crates, but I advise you to exercise additional discretion in the future in carrying out your… orders…. I trust we understand each other...” Pharazon said after lowering his voice to the point that no one other than Wenck could hear him while also busying himself with some computations on his vambrace computer and appearing to maintain his interest in the inspection. Pharazon did not know what the crates were or if they were legitimate or part of some scheme on Wenck’s part. He cared little, if he was smuggling he was being far too suspicious concerning the crates and if he was just following orders and transporting the personnel effects of the Marshal he was far too aggressive for doing something he was allegedly authorised to do.

 

Nodding to the inspecting officers as they insisted upon and then began their inspection, Pharazon subsequently nodded to Wenck, Lunor, and the other officers present before beginning to move off back towards his men. There was still a large amount of cargo to load onto this ship, and he suspected once they were done there would be more to do afterwards. He also wanted to see what Wenck was up to from a distance, and whether he would decide to behave a little less suspiciously and aggressively as before.

 

FN-888  | Rexus Wenck


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