Had Abad day [Corellia Confederation Dominion of Had Abaddon]

[H3xle]

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Location: Ready Alert Hangar aboard CDF Starchild II
Status: Ready and Alert in SI-3 Longsword
Callsign: Grim 3

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Dace adjusted his position in his seat as he let his eyes scan over the status displays of his Longsword. The fighter was far and away more advanced than the centuries old fighter craft he'd flown from his parents old Explorer ship, and he had a near constant giddy feeling in his stomach when he got to fly in it. His mind was already working on various ways he could modify the interceptor, if he were he to ever be allowed near it with a sonic spanner or an autowrench. The systems were designed for fast deployment from the factory, which Dace understood. Still, he felt he could get a lot more out of the spaceframe and systems.

'Grim Leader to Grim Squadron. Check in.' Dace heard in his ear, and he toggled the mic on as soon as he heard Kip in Grim 2 check in.

"Grim 3, showing ready status green." He replied, then put his mic back to standby. He half listened to the rest of the small interceptor squadron check in.

They were all within visual sight of each other, the ready alert hangar for them wasn't quite as massive as the main hangars or the maintenance decks, so Dace saw everyone else adjusting their seats and flipping through menus on the screens of the fightercraft as they waited to be activated or taken off of ready alert status.

'Thank you Grims. Hold tight.' his squadron leader replied after everyone checked in, then his ear went silent. People may have chatted on private lines, but Grim Squadron was fairly good at radio silence. Which is what you get when you pack a squadron full of loners.

 

[Ava Cartwright-Pryce]

Location: Wildcat hanger bay of the CDF Starchild II
Starfighter: T-90 X-wing
Gear: Flight suit, pilot sidearm and essentials
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It didn't take too long to finish up tinkering with her bird in the maintenance bay, then Wildcat Leader's X-wing was moved back to the side hangar where the squadron called home as they had been upgraded to standby status - second out.

Grim Squadron was on the flight deck right now as they were on ready alert - first out. The Longswords weren't her cup of tea to fly, but the newer fighters were a decent Interceptor the CDF's Starfighter Corps was using to match up with the all-around capabilities of the well-tested Incom series X-wing.

The Wing Commander was glad to have the Grim Reapers... well that is what some of the 'Cats were calling them, in the flight rotation aboard the Starchild. Grim Leader was experienced and had recruited some very capable pilots to fill out his eight-bird roster like [member="Dace Tauri"]. Goldilocks looked forward to working side by side with them in the coming days.

Since Wildcat Squadron was on standby, Ava made her way to the pilot ready room where there was always strong caf waiting. The Ralltiiri liked hers black as night and fully leaded. She poured herself a cup, then the blonde sat down in one of the lazyboy-like pilot chairs and took out her data pad. Might as well get some work done like going over the recent SIM scores while waiting to be called up.

Hopefully this prisoner exchange with the CIC was uneventful, but Commader Cartwright didn't give it good odds. They were dealing with Imperials and Force users... enough said.

 

[Hansen]

Captain Lynda Dorn
CDF Starchild II, "The Hanger"
Imperial Confederated Systems Army Reserve
1 Commando Advanced Reconnaissance Regiment
Tags: [member="Ava Cartwright"], [member="Dracken Pryce"], [member="Elsie Perris"], [member="Jerec Asyr"], [member="Keiran Berus"], [member="Krek Libera"], [member="Kyle Torchwood"], [member="Myri Bastra"], [member="Sienna Vekarr"], [member="Orson Jade"].
Nearby: [member="Seto Du Couteau"], [member="Orson Jade"], [member="Jahan Lionheart"], [member="Kyle Torchwood"], [member="Sienna Vekarr"].

The Monarch and Starchild hung beside one another within the deep, dark void of deep space their running lights gave them luminescence not unlike a small city. Lynda stood within the Banshee Dropships' hold with one hand clasped around the hydraulic release for the main cargo ramp they'd ferrfied the prisoner stiffs in their crystalline stasis isolation unit up and into that Banshee's Durasteel belly. Clutching a trio of paper sheets in her free-hand Lynda's azure blue spheres glanced down to them from behind turqooise glowing visor

It's that serious? Wordlessly Lynda remarked on the significance of there being actual papyrus sheets involved with the upcoming exchange. Could count the amount of times I've seen this stuff in my life on one-hand Obviously the Imperial Security Bureau wanted to ensure physical in addition to electronic records of this extradition and custody exchange existed in their Coruscanti Offices no doubt. Damn Spooks Noiselessly cursing the mysterious Commissar Du Couteau as he sat, finding his presence among those Commandos to be some insult to their murderous skills, trained into them by the notorious Vilaz Munin a ruthless Mandalorian Chieftain.

Inertial dampeners tugged softly at Lynda's silvery armoured form as the Interstellar Manufacturing Company-made Banshee dropship's Ion Engines shrieked silently through the emptiness between those two great Warships, escorted by a squadron of Corellian Fighters into the Starchild's thickly armoured Hull. "Here we go." Both spheres rolled around while Captain Dorn muttered some flippant dismissal of the whole situation, it lacked any excitement or reasons for her adrenaline to pump through Lynda's veins which the young woman had long ago become addicted to first as a Dancer and Choreographer and then Soldier.

"Let's get this over with, I'm hungry." The clenched fist secured tightly around hydraulic release hanging from Banshee's ceiling was given a harsh tug which formed the airlock to cycle in a loud pitched angry hiss before Cargo ramp lowered towards Starchild's hanger floor, the Banshee's stomach was dark leaving a pair of Corellian sailors to oogle at the four burning aqua T-shaped eyes searing through darkness. Emerging from shroud four platinum warriors strode forth their lead Captain "Malys" Dorn clutched a clipboard with several sheets of paper upon her its' surface, two noticeable shorter Commandos flanked their unnutually tall Commander with Ratchet guiding along the Isolation unit towards a rank of Power Armoured Warriors who unknown to the curious Lynda belonged to the Halcyon Program.

Examining their armour with surprise that was tactfully concealed by her helmet Death Troopers!? Lynda's shock was enough that she audibly, very audibly cleared her throat in a sound that rattled vocal cords in disgust. "I am Captain Dorn, Company Commander of one commando advanced reconnaissance regiment, first battalion, Besh Company." Her Imperial accent is most decidedly upper-class in nature and readily belied the tall woman's humble and abused working-class origins on Lothal, though there were subtle hints within her tone to suggest it was some nature of facsimile. As a begrudging sign of respect Lynda reluctantly brought her free hand upto helmet's jaw after using retinal display to disengage hermetic seal and handed the silver dome back to Surge who received it promptly.

Lynda now used both hands to hold clipboard beneath her Cerulean gaze and began reading from those papers bearing the proud Imperial coat of arms. "By Order of the General Staff, Commissar General, Attorney General and Commander-In-Chief of His Majesty's Imperial Confederated Systems' Military and in accordance with section twelve of the Extradition Act Eight-Five-Six Ah-bee-why. We, hereby authorise and sanction the release and transfer of three detainees to the Corellian Confederation's Military." Pausing for a moment to take a deep weary obviously tired breath and release it with a sigh Lynda licked her dry lips before looking across the few paces towards the Armoured Behemoths, most of whom were taller than Lynda in their Power Armour and made the Six feet tall clone Companions of Captain Dorn look tiny in Comparison. "I require a Commissioned Officer and a Commissioned Officer witness to sign for transfer of custody to take place." Lynda shook the clipboard gently towards them to draw attention towards it.

 

[Samantha Solo]

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Objective:
Location: Standing in the commissary receiving orders

Sam acknowledged the orders realizing it may already be too late to find loose lips. So much for having a drink and relaxing. Sam headed out it wouldn't be blaring all over where an exchange was taking place. And of course she wasn't supplied that information.

Had to be a hangar right?

Yeah...which one?

She'd have to find a security office, looking at the ships mapping she found that there was a nearby office and quickly headed that way. The exchange may not even be close by which would mean she is already starting out behind the ball not in front of it where she liked to be.

 

[RC 212]

SPACE
LOW ORBIT, HAD ABADDON

Somewhere in the depths of Exocron she'd been drinking herself to death. Business was down for the former Glorious Jast Shipwright Company. And then she got the call. The Corellian Confederation had been put together. Ahh Corellia, her birth blood ran hot.

As the days drew on she'd assembled a war-fleet of her dry docked vessels and routed to Corellia, checked in with the Naval Command Station and jumped to here. Three Jast Elite Destroyers exited hyperspace, flanked by a pair of Jast Missile Destroyers. Even in today's age they were hearty ships. Hard hulls, mass munitions and with backwater crews who'd shiv ya over a sabaac hand gone wrong.

Who could ask for better.

As they emerged she was tapping errant on her datapad and then glance up.

"XO keep us at long range. Hail the Corellian Friendlies. Tell them they got backup."

The Jast Family was coming back into the Galaxy, and back to Corellia at last!

 

[Sienna Vekarr]

[member="Lynda Dorn"] [member="Krek Libera"] [member="Orson Jade"] [member="Jahan Lionheart"] [member="Myri Bastra"]

Finally the shuttle touched down inside the spacious hangar of the Starchild. She looked to the Halcyon surrounding her and gave a nod to Halcyon Bastra. Sienna stepped forward, her well polished boots clicking on the durasteel floor before she looked the soldier up and down. It seemed as if she was destined to be surrounded by beings much taller than herself. Her blue eyes fell over the isolation units as they came down the ramp and narrowed at the trio of failures and misfits. She brought her attention back to Dorn and caught her stutter.

"They do look similar don't they?" She muttered half to herself wistfully without realizing what she'd said . "The First Order had troopers that looked like them before they were beaten down by those ssi-ruvi bastards." she bit back any more vitriol and brought her gaze to the clipboard the Captain was holding.

"I am Colonel Sienna Vekarr and I will be signing and taking custody of these terrorists with Lieutenant-Commander Bastra as my witness." She reached out a hand to be handed the documents and datapad and gave the soldier her best commanding officer smile.

 

[Myri Bastra]

​

This was it, it was finally happening, the Halcyon fire-team leader couldn't help but glance over at the commandos accompanying the imperial officer as she approached. It was equal parts personal curiosity and professional, without a doubt the commandos were the biggest threats in the room, but she had to wonder how capable they were, how she'd fare pitted up against them. A small smile touched the woman's face, hidden beneath her helmet as she fell into place behind [member="Sienna Vekarr"], the heavy thump of her armoured footsteps bouncing around the hangar as she reached up to unclasp her helmet blinking as the pressure around her ears equalised. The lenses implanted in her eyes meant she didn't loose any of the information the helmet provided but she couldn't deny that she was feeling more than a little naked without it.

The Halcyon sucked in a deep breath as she braced at attention, nodding over at [member="Lynda Dorn"], "that'd be me, Lieutenant-Commander Bastra reporting...to be a witness." She had to try very hard not to let the smile touch her lips, it was an...unusual position to be in, to be involved in such a formal transfer of prisoners. In all honesty it was a case of there but for a few moments of luck goes she, if she'd joined the military sooner, or if she hadn't joined the military then she could be the one in the cage and not hte one outside it. The commando's eyes flicked back and forth as she took a half step to the side, just in a position to be able to reach Sienna, just in case. She didn't think anything would happen but her job was to always be prepared, besides it was a much better position to be able to read the paperwork over the woman's shoulder. "What do you need from me?"

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau
Location: HMIS "Monarch" Imperial V-Class Star Destroyer
Objective: Assure the Prisoner Transfer goes accordingly
Actions: Approach the Transfer Point at the Hanger
Tags: @Jerec Asyr , [member="Sienna Vekarr"] , [member="Dracken Pryce"] , [member="Lynda Dorn"] , [member="Keiran Berus"]
Attire

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The Starchild loomed over as their own transport entered into the hanger, the Commissar had half expected a tad more pomp and circumstance from the Corellians, but presumably it would be shown by their welcoming party. And if not, well I shall raise questions. Even within their isolation chamber, far removed as possible to effect the galaxy, these three criminals were dangerous. Seto eyed their prisoners for a moment, before he turned away to glance upwards of the ship's ceiling.

He not long to settle and listen to the waves of the Force flowing around him, tussled and pulled by the soldiers around Seto, the ship shuddered and without much of an order the ramps fell open. The Commandos quickly fell into step, along with Captain Dorn that soon was followed by two others and finally that brought the tail were the prisoners proper. The Isolation Unit moved slowly out of the transport and Seto stood, to watch its backside move into the Corellian hanger.

Seto carefully took his time to walk out and into the hanger, his eyes glancing between the soldiers presence and most importantly the heavy set of Corellian military personal. Soft hums of new melodies and of new instruments slowly trickled into his Force sense as he felt other Force Users present within the Starchild. Content to simply leave it at that, Seto returned his attention to his comrades performing the exchange with the Corellian Officers.

The power armored unit of soldiers did give Seto slight pause as he could have sworn the armor appeared frighteningly familiar to those of his old regime had used for their own special forces and commandos. Seto though took some solace that the Corellians have taken this prisoner transfer serious, if nothing else, to make sure they were prepared for anyone.

Though with so many new presences within the Force, the mixture of the torturous agony of pain from the prisoners themselves, Seto did all he could remain impassive as he observed the exchange. He made no indication of moving closer or even speaking to add something to the proceedings. After this, they would leave these prisoners to their fate with Corellia and head back to Imperial controlled space.

It would be a shame not to gleam further into these, Jedi of Corellia. Seto mused, his thought breaking through the noise, even as he understood his assignment was to only assure the prisoner transfer went without problem. From either the Prisoners or other Force Users present of course. Perhaps it would be for the best that all Force Users left the galaxy, it would certainly make life easier for many and Seto wouldn't mind the idea of no longer needing the Force as a tool.

And we've only have to contend with normal criminals and terrorists.

 

[Dracken Pryce]

CIC: [member="Seto Du Couteau"] [member="Lynda Dorn"]​

TCC: [member="Orson Jade"] [member="Jahan Lionheart"] [member="Kyle Torchwood"] [member="Krek Libera"] [member="Elsie Perris"] [member="Hala Jast"] [member="Hala Jast"] [member="Samantha Solo"] [member="Ava Cartwright"] [member="Dace Tauri"] ​

"Pryyyyyce, we've got company," came the concerned voice of Garvey. From the corner of his eye Pryce spied the live holo-feed of ships in the system and jerked his head to attention where five cruisers had dropped out of hyperspace. Pryce's eyes narrowed. "Looks like five cruisers, Silhouettes and drive signatures ping them as Jast Destroyers. They're hailing us."

"What about our Imperial friends, Garvey, any movement on their end?"

"Scopes are all clear, they don't seem to be making moves. You think they saw 'em?" Pryce nodded.

"If we saw them from here they probably have them on their scopes too. Get a message on secure channels to [member="Myri Bastra"]. Expect trouble." A com officer looked over from her post and gave him a quick salute before reporting.

"Friendly sir, how do you want to respond?"

"Let them know we see them. Ask them why they're here. This exchange is a sensitive military operation. I'd rather not have civilians with itch trigger fingers and Imperials in the same system. Put the Wildcats on alert and raise Grim Squadron's readiness level." She nodded and sent out a response to the hail.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Dracken Pryce"]

SPACE
LOW ORBIT, HAD ABADDON

"Ma'am they're hailing us, asking why we are here."

Hala nodded keeping her eyes on the scopes. Why was she here? Some kind of patriotic duty? Some kind of lost sense of belonging? Perhaps. She was really here because it was a business opportunity; she owed her birth blood to Corellia; and she'd been snet after she checked in with their FLEETCOM.

"Open an channel, singular and encrypted."

"Channel open."

"Send that we are here on orders of Corellia FLEETCOM as Auxiliary Forces. We know this is their show. Ask for orders."

That was an oddity to her. A woman that had run a vile and notorious Street-gang of Swoop-bikers, then built a considerable Shipwright Conglomerate asking for orders?

Feth it, She thought to herself.

Let's play ball.

 

[RC 212]

Lynda Dorn - Krek Libera - Orson Jade - Jahan Lionheart - Myri Bastra - [member="Sienna Vekarr"] - [member="Seto Du Couteau"]​

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In the space inside the Hangar things were heating up.

She arrived late to the party, stepped through the door and froze. There was a tenseness in the air as the two sides were introducing themselves and talking shop. She decided to step back and to the left, grasping the collar of her Armor Vest and nodding. The hand placement was a show of good faith. She was adorned in her white Flightsuit, with OD green plate carrier, combat harness, and large rucksack. Her helmet had a giant medical logo on the side, with her roster number.

Her only weapon, a Czerka Machine Pistol was fit securely in her battle belt.

"Cait Sandusky, Senior Medic."

That was all she offered. Instead of stepping on folks boots she just shut the hell up and began assessing whether the prisoner would need medical attention with her eyes. Even as a Prisoner, they were afforded that. After all, the Corellian Confederation may have hardline militant edge, bu they were not monsters....

 

[Sienna Vekarr]

​

"Finally," she muttered under her breath as the last of the prisoners rolled out of the ship. "Sandusky, can you confirm the health of the prisoners in their stasis cubes? Need to make sure there aren't any abnormalities before we let our Core Imperial friends go." It seemed as if she was getting shorter and shorter as more and more tall people showed up. It bothered her, but she tried to make it seem like it didn't. It worked for the most part, her icy glare was ambiguous enough to make one unsure if she was actually angry at someone, bored, or just outright spiteful.

----Somewhere in Engineering---

A device began beeping in the engineer's pocket. A thin smirk inched its way across his face as he realized what the sound meant.
"Hey Charles, you know no personal coms on this deck-" His protest was cut short as "Charles" lowered the smoking blaster pistol. They had made it aboard which meant now it was time for the mission to begin. He pulled out the communicator and plugged it into the console he was working on and began uploading...

 

[RC 212]

[member="Lynda Dorn"] - [member="Krek Libera"] - [member="Orson Jade"] - [member="Jahan Lionheart"] - [member="Myri Bastra"] - [member="Sienna Vekarr"] - [member="Seto Du Couteau"]​

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Cait never had to be told twice. She tossed a nod towards Sienna and snapped a quick salute.

"Aye Ma'am, Moving."

She turned, gave a two fingered wave to both her Medics and pointed towards the Stasis pods. It was a simple hand signal they understood, "Follow."

Before she moved she un-holstered her Pistol nice and slow-like, crouched and set it to the deck. Then as a unit they crossed the line of negotiation, in a wedge formation making right for the cubes. Was it stupid to ditch their weapons? Cait didn't think so. Two decades of service in the Naboo Royal Marines as a Sergeant Major had turned her into a ruthless and skilled hand to hand artist.

They approached the pods. Three large cubes, glowing an amber orange. Cait swiped up with her index, opening the vital signs, and then motioning to her team.

"Plug in, start analyzing."

Meanwhile she was counting seconds and keeping track of heartbeat, respiration and O2 readings. So far they seemed a little banged up.

"Beginning assessment, Prisoners seem slightly wounded. Stable condition, easy to move them. Prisoner three has a low O2 rate. Visual inspection shows signs of malnutrition. Prisoner two appears to have dried blood on outside of garb. Mark the time."

"Conducting further screening on Prisoner 2 now."

Her medic started jotting down notes on his datapad.

"Prisoner 2 from the looks of it will need immediate medical attention. Determining extent..... large loss of blood, visual only."

She turned to view the negotiation and raised an eyebrow.

"The quicker we wrap this up the better, you," She pointed to her second Medic.

"Spin up a Field Surgical Team. 2 needs a suture job on that arm laceration. Looks like the job they got led to an infection. Have them spin up Bacta-Kolt drip, 100cc's STAT.."

 

[Orson Jade]

Finally, the transfer was taking place. Orson stood there watching as the ship had lowered, within the armor his muscles felt tense the Halycon ready to leap into action if things were to go pear-shaped. In his heart Orson still couldn’t bring himself to trust any sort of political power built off the back of Empire, the galaxy had suffered at their hands so many times. Orson was surprised to see that it hadn’t all been an elaborate trap to begin with the prisoners rolled out in stasis tubes commandos accompanying their leader just like the Halycon’s did their own.

Hanging back to have a better view of the situation, Orson noticed how Officer Sandusky had lowered her weapons and went over to examine the stasis tubes. They still had potential threats that had yet to leave the hanger and there his commanding officer Myra was without her helmet. Am I the only cautious one here? The commando thought the visor of his helmet moving to watch the Starchild’s visitors.

Even the fact that they cared about the prisoner's health was somewhat a shock to Orson, they were terrorists, murderers, killers. What they truly deserved was to be put down. Of course, this hot temper was possibly why Orson hadn’t been promoted recently, which the augmentations did nothing but amplify that trait within him.

[member="Cait Sandusky"], [member="Sienna Vekarr"], [member="Seto Du Couteau"], [member="Lynda Dorn"], [member="Myri Bastra"]

 

[Ava Cartwright-Pryce]

Location: Wildcat hanger bay of the CDF Starchild II > flight deck
Status: Active standby - second out
Starfighter: T-90 X-wing
Gear: Full flight suit, pilot sidearm, and essentials
____

Goldilocks tried to block out the game of sabacc some of her squadron were playing at a makeshift table in the back of the ready room. They were a good bunch. Decent enough fighter jockeys to impress her. Almost all were Corellian too. She felt a bit out of place being the outsider of the group and in charge, but the locals had welcomed the former Rogue. If she was okay in [member="Dracken Pryce"]'s book, then Ava was okay in theirs. Well... as long as the Ralltiiri continued to prove herself worthy of such high esteem. They were a tough crowed to please... Just the way it should be. Ditto.

An alert alarm rang out, then the intercom crackled to life inside the pilot ready room. Everyone stopped what they were doing to listen up.

"Wildcat Squadron. Report to your fighters ASAP. You've been moved to active standby second to Grim Squadron. Further orders TBA."

Ava saved the work she was doing on her data pad, then slid the devise into its designated pocket on her flight suit. The tall blonde rose from her chair, then pulled on her helmet as booted feet started moving towards the hatch. While the pilots were getting situated into their X-wings, the 'cats hangar bay platform would lift upward on the elevator and place them on the flight deck, ready to launch when the order to do so came from the Admiral.

The Commander didn't have any sitrep yet on the reasoning to be placed on active standby, but it probably had to do with the prisoner exchange with the CIC... Nothing ever goes as planned otherwise things would be too boring, then complacency would start to poison the efficiency of the well-oiled war machine of the Corellian Defense Force. Better to be ready with contingencies than not and caught flat-footed.

With eleven affirmatives received from the other Wildcats, Goldie toggled over to the Starchild tactical channel. [ Flight Control, this is Wildcat Leader. Twelve green and standing by. ]

Now to hurry up and wait...


[member="Dace Tauri"] | [member="Hala Jast"]

 

[Dracken Pryce]

[member="Elsie Perris"] [member="Kyle Torchwood"]​

[member="Orson Jade"] [member="Cait Sandusky"] [member="Myri Bastra"] [member="Dace Tauri"]​

[member="Seto Du Couteau"] [member="Lynda Dorn"]​

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"Sir, the Jast vessels say they're here for back up." Back up? A new task force in his fleet maybe? He didn't know Corellia had the ships to spare for that. If they did things were looking up more and more. He shrugged and ordered communications to send an acknowledgement to [member="Hala Jast"] and leaned on the command table, his eyes falling on the status of Grim and Wildcat Squadrons. When Ava's light turned green a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Sir, medic says they all check out except for prisoner 2. Needs medical attention." With a nod Pryce sent down the order to have one of the Halcyon take the prisoner to the medbay. Garvey was floating back and forth looking at his own miniature copy of the prisoner readouts, his hand under his chin in an expression of deep thought.

"Something on your mind Garvey?"

"Yeah...These readouts...Don't they remind you of something?" He had to admit, at a glance the readouts were crazy, some of these levels were off the charts. But the way Max and T'soni looked, it was obvious they'd taken body modification way too far.

"I guess they do look a little crazy."

"I don't know...There's more to it than that. I"m gonna do a little digging. I've got a bad feeling about this." And with that Garvey disapeared into the ship's databanks, sinking into the command table until someone needed him again.

Anything involving playing nice with Imperials made Pryce feel funny. Those sorts of encounters never went well and he doubted they ever would until the Imperials stopped being so...evil. But Garvey's unease was enough to make Pryce a little nervous. The VI's were masters of probability and if he was running calculations that were making something in this mission seem out of place...well, it was enough to get him to pull out the little keyboard and send a message to Ava's X-Wing.

Stay safe. Love you.

His eyes searched the bridge for the young girl who was supposed to be shadowing him. He spotted her chatting with the Padawan boy.

"Junior Cadet [member="Elsie Perris"], a word?"

 

[Samantha Solo]

"OH please" It was not the begging kind of please it was the sarcastic you got to be kidding kind of please. "You can tell me" She pulled her credentials showing her as an operative for CORSEC, Special Operations. "If you don't tell me I'll do my best to have swabbing decks." She smiled.

She had raced half way around the entire place before she found the security office.

"What do you know!?" She had reached impatience level.

The Captain wasn't in the mood to deal with an over eager security officer but he also wasn't in the mood to pay a price. "There's no harm in you knowing." He gave her the name of the hangar with a quick follow up, "transfer is now. there's been no problems, I don't know why CORSEC would have their panties in a bunch"

Oh..he was baiting her wasn't he. She took a deep breath got very close to him, as close as decorum would allow, "bwe get our panties in a bunch cause people like you want to play games rather than help. Holding me up here practically making me beg for this information isn't the way it should be. I shouldn't have to threaten you to get an answer." She wasn't trying to be cold she just wanted to make him understand that CORSEC took a lot of heat into places where the guys maintaining security on ships, sent their troops, "and besides my panties are a lot cuter than yours"

She nodded and walked out. She had to admit though that nothing seemed to be happening, no alarms..nothing..........yet.

 

[Hansen]

Captain Lynda Dorn
CDF Starchild II, "The Hanger"
Imperial Confederated Systems Army Reserve
1 Commando Advanced Reconnaissance Regiment
Tags: @Ava Cartwright, [member="Dracken Pryce"], [member="Elsie Perris"], [member="Jerec Asyr"], [member="Keiran Berus"], [member="Krek Libera"], [member="Kyle Torchwood"], [member="Myri Bastra"], [member="Sienna Vekarr"], [member="Orson Jade"], [member="Cait Sandusky"].
Nearby: [member="Seto Du Couteau"], [member="Orson Jade"], [member="Jahan Lionheart"], [member="Kyle Torchwood"], [member="Sienna Vekarr"], [member="Cait Sandusky"]

"Colonel Vekarr?" Lynda with her perpetually trapped barely adult complexion scowled disapprovingly towards the Corellian Officer for a moment, she recognised that name vaguely from a part of her life that would be better forgotten. Back when she served as a hospital corpsman for the First Imperial Navy and spent an inordinate amount of time stuffed into an ill-fitting suit of First Order Stormtrooper Armour built for an athletic bulky man as opposed to the virtually malnourished teen she had been at seventeen.

Relenting from the expression and adopting an Officer's proprietary she contined. "I am Captain Lynda Dorn of One Commando Advanced Reconnaissance Regiment's second battalion." One Commando Advanced Reconnaissance Regiment anybody with Holonet access could access the limited publicly available information about that Imperial Confederated Systems' Royal Army unit. It is a Part-Time Army Reserve unit consisting primarily of adult-volunteer Commandos commonly known as "ARC Troopers" Claiming a fabled mythology and lineage back to the Galactic Republic and Galactic Empire. One CAR Regiment's insignia was that of an eyeless grinning Human Skull with an entrance hole on its' right temple laid on a pair of crossed Broadsabres upon an Imperial Roundel.

Being a Reservist that would lead any Corellian to conclude that Lynda wasn't a professional full-time soldier and possessed some sort of Civil Occupation, which could leave the imagination to run wild. Lynda watched Sienna sign the paperwork secured to the clipboard Lynda's eyes craned upward to meet a taller power-armour wearing woman's gaze, she introduced herself as a Lieutenant Commander. "Commander Bastra, I need you to sign as a witness." Lynda gestured towards the clipboard help by Sienna Vekarr and again focused on the Colonel's face with a furious intensity. This time, Captain Dorn broke her silence. "I know you from somewhere Colonel."

A smile broke across Lynda's lips feeling a sense of safe superiority behind the fact she'd lawfully changed her name since those days and significantly altered her own appearance, as a Hospital Corpsman and later as a Death Trooper Lynda would bleach her naturally blonde hair which was usually no longer than jaw-length a startling white mostly as a way to escape an unwanted resemblance to her own before becoming somewhat more self-confident in the last four years and accepting it begrudgingly. "Don't worry though Ma'am." Captain Dorn said with a teasing mischievous wink of right eye towards Colonel Sienna Vekarr. "Your secret is safe with me." There was an unmistakable smugness in Lyn's voice when she delivered the Cryptic message.

Lynda's startlingly bright cerulean eyes glanced over her silvery right pauldron towards the Isolation cube and the mysteriously silent Commissar Du Couteau, she thought he was unpleasantly creepy and made the woman's skin crawl even if that wasn't his intention. "By the light of Lothal's moons, why does he have to be so weird?" Captain Dorn muttered the question under her own breath pivoting in a relaxed motion in that direction until her ears with a keen sharpness detected the sound of a fleshy palm making the distinct slapping sound of skin against a polymer pistol grip.

Pivoting on heels with vicious inhuman speed and a dancer's dexterity Lynda's own hand came dangerously close to the holster secured around right thigh carrying a compact Blaster Rifle within. Her spheres were confronted with the sight of a Corellian Medic carefully placing a weapon on the Hanger's floor and snarled towards the woman. "What in the seven hells are you doing?" Captain Dorn's tone was biting as she found Sandusky still unholstering her weapon carefully obviously without any hostile intnet, her body language cautiously eased and her right-hand went limp and relaxed after being satisfied the Medic wasn't about to give them a Green-On-Blue incident. "Bloody hell." Lynda released a tense sigh.

"Don't draw your weapon in a barracks environment unless you want people to get really anxious, it's not safe to leave it unattended either." Lynda rolled her eyes around in spheres, clearly the Advanced Reconnaissance Commando disapproved strongly of the display even if the woman's intentions had been worthy of admiration and noble. Placing an palm right palm over her breastplate Lynda could feel her heart's slow incredibly powerful beat, it had gone upto sixty-five beats per minute such was the adrenaline dump made possible by the vulnerability of not having a helmet over her head, she stopped short of chuckling tensely and simply smirked. "Near gave me a heart attack."

Looking past the Medic as she moved behind Lynda towards the guarded Isolation Cube, she addressed Commander Bastra, Colonel Vekarr and the Halcyon Commandos behind them whilst listening to the report given on the condition of the prisoners. "Staff at the civil and military hospitals they were admitted to couldn't safely treat the injuries sustained during their arrests on account of their resistance to anesthesia and physiology." Lynda said hooking a thumb over left-shoulder towards them. "If you're done with the custody papers?" Lynda extended an open gauntlet. "I'll take them off your hands and we'll complete the handover." She felt her stomach growl again.

Captain Jon Skold's gaunt thin fingers clasped his command throne's arm-rests anxiously examining the new contacts on long-range scanners, certainly nervous although not probed towards irrational action, Skold was a cool, level headed and disciplined Officer which contrasted him significantly to some of the younger hands on his Star Destroyer's Staff. "Identify those warships immediately, Com." After a moment of tapping at their console the Chief offered his subordinate's report upto the vessel's officer commanding soothing Captain Skold's brief increase in anxiety. "Very good, continue tracking the contacts. They might be Corellian Flags but those certainly aren't military registrations." The bearded portly Chief Petty Officer gave an affable acknowledgement. Connecting with the CDF Starchild Jon Skold send their bridge officer a message from his command throne. "Corellian Defence Force Starchild this is His Majesty's Imperial Ship Monarch, please advise on new long-range sensor contacts bearing civil Corellian registration."

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau
Location: HMIS "Monarch" Imperial V-Class Star Destroyer
Objective: Assure the Prisoner Transfer goes accordingly
Actions: Approach the Transfer Point at the Hanger
Tags: [member="Jerec Asyr"] , [member="Sienna Vekarr"] , [member="Dracken Pryce"] , [member="Lynda Dorn"] , [member="Keiran Berus"]
Attire

​

Seto raised an eyebrow as one of the Corellians, the Medic, went to inspect the prisoner's health. Not that their future health mattered much to the Commissar, but he understood the more moving parts something had the more likely it would break down. And adding a moving part to a stasis containment cell with three very dangerous and powerful beings.

Seto took a step back, his arms crossed over his chest as to hide his twitching fingers. Force barriers came natural as breathing to him, but what concerned him was not the need for the barrier, it was how to best utilized such ability should something go terribly wrong.

Perhaps thankfully, the Galaxy found no cause to punish the Du Couteau heir as he watched the Medic finish her duties and quickly called in further assistance. A field team? Seto was confident there were far more suitable Medbays to assure the prisoner remained as such; a prisoner. More so to get them away from my sight and stop me from sensing their Force presence. Seto continued to glance between the medical team and the stasis tank before he instead turned to refocus his attention back to the shuttle.

A soft flutter, a gentle change of the flow of the Force, as if one of the musicians changed mouthpiece,still a subtle change, perhaps one born out of a premonition. Slight unnerved, but Seto stopped for a moment before focusing his attention once more to the prisoners. Captain Dorn's voice rang through and broke his train thought as he silently thanked the Galaxy that they were finished here. The prisoners were no longer a problem of the Confederation, and a ghost of a smile tugged the corners of his lips and Seto relaxed both his body and face to appreciate the moment.

Seto dropped his arms from his chest, his hands no longer concerned, and once they all entered their shuttle they could put great distance between themselves and the prisoners. I'll go investigate the Green Jedi and research them at a later time.

 

[Myri Bastra]

Location: Hangar of CDF Starchild II
Objective: Receive and secure transferred prisoners

Gear: Halcyon Armour | VAARS

Tagging: [member="Orson Jade"] | [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Jerec Asyr"] |

Well, she'd expected the prisoners to be beaten up a little, a few bruises, maybe a black-eye or two even a minor laceration, it happened with all prisoner transports to one degree or another. Ashla knew that she'd been involved in a few prisoner transports of her own that had left a prisoner a little worse for wear, it was how the transporters could show their displeasure with the prisoner. A kick here, a punch or slap there, it was all part of the game, not one she was comfortable with but one she could accept. This much blood loss though, this was far far from what was anywhere close to what she'd expected. She knew how prisoners could be but that they'd forced the Imperials to resort to this level of force to take them down...she was a little glad that they were restrained now.

The woman's dark-eyed gaze glared at the Imperials as her helmet came up to settle over her head, eyes blinking as the hud flared to life as she stepped up, passing [member="Lynda Dorn"] the signed papers as she stepped up to take hold of the frame containing prisoner two. Even her sensors couldn't pierce through the frame clearly, certainly not enough as she closed her fingers around the frame, dropping her shoulder as she started to manoeuvre the prisoner towards the doors, the lift that would take them to the infirmary. "There you go ma'am, if you'd excuse me, I need to get this man to the doctors." Even as she spoke a silent message was bouncing into the ships intranet, asking for increased security to be deployed to the infirmary...just incase.