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Aoki-Barran Mira.
Imperial Knight Commander of The Empire.
Paladin Inquisitor.
Commander of the Highland Brotherhood. The Reanimated Husk.The Imperial Samurai.Barran's Shadow. Daughter of Justice & Mercy. The Shadow.
As Michael Barran
moved, she moved too. She truly looked like his shadow, as her movements mirrored his. They did not even have to communicate, they already could tell what they were to do. They seemed cornered for the moment, but Michael always had a plan.
"Let them waste their ammunition! They won't hit squat down here - well, in bygone decades they could've but I digress.... But with that being said, I do plan on acquainting these fools with my fists if ye catch m'drift?"
Aoki-Barran scoffed as she lifted her flattened hands, "Only fists? You are too merciful."
As blaster fire rang out, she and Michael blocked every single one that would have hit them. Not with lightsabers, deflector shields, or armor - but with the Force. Using the palms of their hands, they reflected the blaster fire away from themselves. A display of their tremendous strength. As the blaster fire rang out, they made their way to the front gate. Silent but understanding, they knew what to do. Aoki-Barran stood before the gate, lowering her hands as Michael covered her. She lifted her clenched hand towards the gate, trusting Michael to keep her alive as she focused. Ice cold, she glared as she focused on her goal. She focused, temporarily clearing her mind of anger and fixating on the task before her. Then...
Click!
With a single snap, the Force exploded into a whirlwind of destruction. it ripped into the gate, tore it from its hinges and mechanisms. It flew back, flying into the entrance of the base. A gaping hole let cold wind into the entrance. And at its entrance, the Shadow stood.
She lowered her hand. As Michael wiped the floor out, she watched the guards inside scrambling to kill an intruder they knew they couldn't beat. The Atrisian hybrid frowned, sensing their fear.
"You are truly lucky. I have been ordered not to kill you."
She confidently entered through the hole, her footsteps echoing through the room. As she analyzed her targets, she finished her statement.
"He said nothing about maiming, however."
"F-fire!"
Once again, blaster fire rang out. Aoki-Barran's expression did not change from its stoic crossness. Meaningful and deliberate, she blocked with the Force and dodged as she rapidly approached the nearest guards. She extended her hands and started in on the Atrisian martial arts she spent her whole life perfecting. Brutally effective, she rapidly took the guards down without drawing a single weapon. She even did not use the Force offensively, simply relying on Force Augmentation to increase her physical speed and strength. It was a practiced martial arts. With agility, and swerved between opponents and landed swift, hard hits to put them down. Broken limbs, shattered ribs, contorted wounds. Her quiet fury was displayed in her quick and effective, swift and brutal, treatment of these soldiers.
Soon, she stood surrounded by mangled, wounded stormtroopers all knocked out but alive. She looked up at the gate that lead to their target. She heard footsteps at the doorway she shattered open, but she could sense who it was. She turned to face Michael Barran with a hint of teasing amusement beneath her cold anger.
"Took you long enough to take care of the rabble outside. Are you ready to end this?"
She looked back up at the door, a frown on her stone face, "To be completely honest, if I had it my way, I would have had every single deserter painfully executed for their deeds. I trust you completely, but today I have been having to hold myself back."
She sighed and looked down, lifting one of her hands to look at it. "I wonder if that is the Husk in me still talking. I will still follow your lead, redeemer."
Nines entered the Fortress District without much fanfare.
The Baron and his four white-clad companions jogged steadily forwards, hugging the walls of the nearby buildings in anticipation of a sudden ambush. None came, but the Reborn could never be too careful. Especially where insurgents were involved.
A tower loomed up ahead in the distance, a steel finger atop the broad palm of the district. Suraya Tower. Currently occupied by rebel forces, the tower provided 360-degree views of nearly the entire district. In short, it was a perfect sniper's den.
"Stay low!" ordered Nines, crouching down to reduce his profile.
"Recon on the tower!"
"Three snipers on an upper balcony." reported a sergeant to his right. "All distracted by something happening just outside the tower."
Michael.
"We're clear!" declared the Baron. "Run!"
Throwing caution to the wind, Nines rose up and dashed towards the tower as fast as his legs could carry him, the footsteps of his squad sounding not far behind. In hindsight, it was a reckless move. Dangers aside, Nines and his squad would likely take at least two minutes to arrive by foot. If Michael and Aoki Mira retreated, then the Baron was running straight into a snake's nest.
Yet Nines found himself agonizing over what could be happening to Michael, his heart pounding at the thought of his reckless old friend getting himself in a situation he could not beat his way out of. As reluctant as he was to do so, he had to trust that Michael's adopted daughter would give her father the backup he needed to hold off any initial attackers. The Baron refused to think of the alternative.
For the first time in his life, Nines was thankful to see Imperial property destroyed.
The tower's gate had been torn apart at the hinges, lying flat on the ground and leaving the entrance wide open. The handiwork of the father or the daughter, Nines couldn't tell. Both of them were wreaking havoc on the tower's defenders, with seemingly not a scratch on their bodies. The Baron let out a sigh of relief as they wrapped up, turning towards the next gate.
Nines took their moment of reprieve to step forwards, past the gate, and address them.
"I thought you might have needed assistance," called the Baron. "but it looks like..."
FN-999 gestured to the mangled bodies around them.
"...that might not have been necessary. Perhaps I'm growing senile with age."
FIGHTING BRIGHT STARSI: RESTITUTOR IMPERIUM - PART 4
SURAYA TOWER, FORTRESS DISTRICT, EAST FRONT WAR-THEATRE, ORD TRASI (EARLY 900 ABY)
'Only fists? You are too merciful.'
There was merit to Mira's response, just as there was merit to the disapproval that drove her to reply in such a fashion, as the same caste who were firing on the Barran duo just so happened to be aligned with the same people who oppressed the Pellaeonist movement at every turn, a particular matter that still stung in the twenty years after the archetypal Tarkinist boot was lifted from their necks. But still, despite the long road to recovery, it was still quite clear to the Warden that his Shadow had come a long way since her return to the Imperial fold, though only a fraction when compared to the improvements in Lady Mira's vast array of Force-Wielding techniques - especially in the advancements made with the Click-Wave in Lord Michael's absence.
Click WOOOOOoooooosh.....
BOOOOOM!!!!
And off the Shadow went, moving in with a sprint to clear out the guards at the east gate whilst her father wandered in behind her, still expressing an officer's disdain for danger as he deflected the blaster-trails with mirthful abandon.
'NOW WE'RE TALKING!!!!'
Almost sword-dancing in his movements, the diversionary powers displayed on Exegol were also aiding the comfort that went with such brazen, traditional methods of agile movement, it didn't take long to incite the irritation required to draw the rampart defenders' attention solely in Lord Michael's direction; drawing blaster-fire whilst Lady Mira burst into the entrance gatehouse, this would serve to speed the Shadow's approach all the more as the defensive weaknesses of the redoubt were finally exploited to the fullest, a beating of which the Wanderer could only imagine in their brief tactical split. However, in seeing some of the COMPFORCE troopers recovering and making for the guard-room in pursuit, the Imperial Warden would have no trouble imagining how it would have panned out inside, enacting it out for himself from the very moment the first trooper stepped beyond the threshold.
'Oh, no you don't.... Turn around - YOUR FIGHT IS WITH ME NOW!!!!'
Cracking his knuckles, his intent to brawl was made clear enough for his attackers to understand, and though some fired off impatiently in the beginning, Barran's clear disdain for such actions was enough to bait for rifle-shunts and bayonet-slashings in the moments following the blaster-trail deflections. From that point onwards, it was merely a challenge of evasive countering for a way into the midst of the attacking mob, ultimately picking his way in from the first adversarial lunge made against him and working to break bones, tendons and the overall impetus of the rabble's swarm as the distance between the Wanderer's own fight and that of his ever-dutiful Shadow. If the Goidel's intentions had been lethal beforehand, this would likely have ended in a massacre, but the Imperial Warden saw something useful in the men he was facing off against.
'Took you long enough to take care of the rabble outside. Are you ready to end this?'
Uncannily, something of worth in men of ill-repute, something not-so-different from the Noble Exiles PMC and the Galidraani Imperial State, wild and aggressive in the auspicious (yet dangerous) years following their declaration for the New Imperial Order. Seeing what none there would see, seeing that Blue Lion of his people instead of the COMPNOR insignia, and in the moments after the last jaw was cracked in anger at the gate, a heartfelt pity began to take hold. It was bringing the Hearts and Minds ideals to the forefront of his mind at the most ill-suiting of times, but in the moment Lord Michael spotted the distant approaching fire-and-manoeuvre procedures of an allied legionary contingent, the realisation it was FN-999 began to set gears turning in his mind - throwing reminders at the space behind the eyes as if they were little javelins of punishing recall.
Reminders of Chandaar, reminders of convincing the Imperial Baron to adhere to the Hearts and Minds strategy in the comfort of a cantina ravaged by rioting, sharing cheap Corellian whiskey whilst they hashed out the nuances of Imperial ethics and methodology together. The unlikely friends, as unlikely as the common-ground would have seemed in an Empire set in it's polarity, were both fortunate in the regard that Nines and Barran alike had learned important lessons from their first interaction, and in turn had learned much of value about each other. This would be counted on most of all, as in the event the 908th Legion worked within policing parameters for a second time, the Highlanders would once again have an unexpectedly-resourceful ally to rely on for the rest of the operation, a sturdy arm of Imperial Law in a time when order was needed to hold the realm together.
A stalwart element to whom the Imperial Warden could look for a means to detain the disarmed COMPFORCE operators, a reliable friend within the heart of the impending Crucible.
'To be completely honest, if I had it my way, I would have had every single deserter painfully executed for their deeds. I trust you completely, but today I have been having to hold myself back.'
Chuckling whilst his gaze caught that of his daughter drifting towards the door her own Click-Wave had busted inward, and whilst looking at all the same rubble and all the most-sluggish of defenders still climbing out from within, inciting farther mirth from the Warden whilst the bells in their heads were likely still ringing, Lord Michael couldn't help but feel immensely proud of his daughter's progression in power. Despite the seeming overkill, despite the seeming disobedience of the order, and despite the destructive use of her power, Mira's father still knew how far she had come since the years of her captivity - knowing how difficult it was to come back from the depths of fury's embrace.
'I wonder if that is the Husk in me still talking. I will still follow your lead, redeemer.'
As the Shadow's gaze dropped, the Wanderer was there to lift her gaze up softly by the chin, offering a fatherly morale-boost by replying,'Keep yer chin up, Mira. You've come a long way since then, so nothing is lost.... Nothing.', hoping to leave no doubts as to the true extent of Lady Mira's recovery. Then, as any loving father would in the Warden's shoes, Lord Michael made sure she wouldn't feel so lost as his hand pulled Lady Mira in for a showy, warm-hearted kiss to the top of her head,'Mwah! Now, we can discuss this when we all return to Serenno.... But we need t'get oor heads in the game for a while, skulls yet t'crack an' such.', leaving it at that in respect for his daughter's rank and the Atrisian aspect of her family's cultural origins.
'NOW THERE'S A MAN I HAVEN'T SEEN IN TOO LONG!!!! YOU'RE CLEAR FOR NOW, NINES!!!! MOVE UP!!!!'
With enough time to look back to his Shadow, the Wanderer smiled for a moment before turning back in time to catch the Baron waving his greetings as he exclaimed,'I thought you might have needed assistance,', on approach. Then with a smile, Lord Michael approached Nines with hand outstretched in amiable greeting as the latter continued,'But it looks like...', growing increasingly quiet as according to nearing proximity for the sake of his Pellaeonist comrades. Assuring handshakes by then, the Baron was free to talk in a more-comfortable tone than before as he concluded,'...that might not have been necessary. Perhaps I'm growing senile with age.', and with a comment that seemed to surprise the Warden greatly.
'Not at all, my old friend! An' besides, yer favourite Druid has remedies of aw sorts to that effect.... Its good t'see ye, Nines. Its been too long, truly.'
A mild kerfuffle behind them broke off the handshake by way of distraction, and in seeing that it was just small instances of resistance to detainment (along with the tightness of cable-tie application to their wrists) of little to no consequence, the Wanderer nodded in contentment for a moment until he finally muttered,'Already acting like it was Chandaar all over again, perfection. Honestly, I couldn't have asked for better if I tried.', though still spoken loudly enough for both Shadow and Baron alike to hear. Turning to face both legends, Lord Michael calmly drawled,'Almost as if the Hearts and Minds strategy could be useful here after all.... Outstanding development, must be said.', with his usual roguish grin returning from it's pensieve mask of concentration.
'Plan.... I've been going about it all nonlethal-like again, roping oor Mira here into the endeavour this time, I'm sure you'll understand why though.... So, d'ye fancy taking up a notch in that fashion? The old-fashioned way, for old-times' sake?'
'Plan.... I've been going about it all nonlethal-like again, roping oor Mira here into the endeavour this time, I'm sure you'll understand why though.... So, d'ye fancy taking up a notch in that fashion? The old-fashioned way, for old-times' sake?'
"I warned you then, and I'll warn you now." declared the Baron. "The old-fashioned way is going to get us all killed one day. Still, I suppose I'll have to wait just this once before I talk some sense into you."
Nines left it at that, knowing that now was not the time for a political debate. Time was of the essence, and as flawed as it was, using Hearts and Minds was better than leaving the Snake to slaughter more loyal Imperials. For now, the Tarkinist Baron begrudgingly conceded to follow the junior Barran's nonlethal strategy.
"I've got a squad stationed at the gates." stated Nines. "Lead the way, Barrans."
As he gestured to the pair, the Baron's attention turned towards Knight Aoki-Barran Mira. Over a decade after he first met her, the green-skinned woman's unnaturally elegant stride and raw Force power still set him on edge. It was almost impossible to read her mood or intentions, her face molded in a familiar mask of gentle stoicism that he doubted even a Wookiee could remove. Yet, according to the Baron's informants, Knight Mira had once been corrupted nearly to the point of no return, becoming little more than a sadistic killer. It intrigued and terrified the Baron at the same time, knowing that there was so much hidden inside a single person.
He could only hope that he could live long enough to piece it all together.
FIGHTING BRIGHT STARSI: RESTITUTOR IMPERIUM - PART 5
SURAYA TOWER, FORTRESS DISTRICT, EAST FRONT WAR-THEATRE, ORD TRASI (EARLY 900 ABY)
'I warned you then, and I'll warn you now.'
Still tied to professionalism.... I'd be angry if it didn't suit him.
After all, the Barons of centuries bygone never learned to uphold such standards.
Don't forget that in a hurry, Michael.
'The old-fashioned way is going to get us all killed one day. Still, I suppose I'll have to wait just this once before I talk some sense into you.'
Despite the difference in opinion and despite the change of circumstances, (coupled with the Wanderer's growth in power since their previous encounter together on Chandaar all those years ago) the Lord-Warden of Serenno couldn't help but admire the his father's duly anointed Baron of the Empire; for all his resistance to Pellaeonist doctrine, and for all his adherence to steelier warfighting ways, there was still something great which set Nines apart from all the others of the trooper elite. A credit to all who served among the best and brightest of the Imperial Armed Forces, and in the disagreement itself a gladdened Lord Michael would find the sheer lack of a Yes-man, for neither citizen nor realm had time for it - a universal constant of the sort everyone could agree on.
'I've got a squad stationed at the gates.'
With a momentary pause, the Wanderer smiled at the Baron, understanding that with all the new tricks up his own sleeve there would be far less need to use his knuckles like before, adding to a potential element of surprise for the predicted last scrap on the redoubt's top floor. Gladdened by the fact it would prove safer for everyone involved, relieved that there would still be something of an Empire if they succeeded, it was clear that the Warden had reason to smile; but in the realisation that time was wasting away, Barran chose not to linger, for even something so meagre as another day of assured Imperium was better than a realm on fire. An ideal of the likes that was new to Lord Michael, but one of which he was growing quite fond at the time, as even before that unwelcome detour to Ord Trasi, there was much in the way of tensions the Lord-Warden had been quelling in recent years.
'Understood, you can keep them at the gate. Lucky for us though, we're not using our knuckles this time.... So set your blaster to stun, gentlemen. We need them subdued quickly an' safely, an' that's exactly what I intend to do - I believe I'm here to protect you all.'
Shaking Nines' hand like a brother, Michael looked the Baron in the eye as he calmly concluded,'Nae worries, Br'er.... "Low-Risk Takedown", is our doctrine this time, an' all I need is for Bline to listen to one wee recorded message. Rest assured that when he hears it in full, the redoubt stands down moments later - Imperium assured from the moment the last door opens to us.', in the spirit of absolute sincerity. So with all issues clarified and lessened, there were no doubts as to the confidence the Baron had in the Warden beyond that point, leaving nothing left but the test of the task itself, the one last endeavour of it's sort before the impending struggles within the realm threatened to tear it asunder.
'More than jus' yer rank at this point, Nines. You're the Baron of Imperium now, an' rest assured I'll act accordingly.... Lets go.'
'Lead the way, Barrans.'
From the ground floor to the top, the small contingent of Michael, Mira and Nines (complete with a small contingent of troopers and Highlanders meshing well amongst each other) would have 6 tense standoffs and takedown procedures to attempt, and all before they could even reach the orchestrator at the end. But with the Warden's plan in mind, Lord Michael knew he was ready to make it all a lot easier for everyone joining yet another of his wildly-unorthodox endeavours, as there was always plenty method within the madness all had perceived of their Goidelic peer, and that method would be on full, evolved display this time.
'WEAPONS DOWN OR WE'LL-' WHOOOOOSH!!!! 'STUN-SHOT PRIMED - FIRE!!!!'
Ground floor, hired guns at best, easy marionettes as all the others would be; but there was once upon a time such a task wiped the Woad out for almost ten minutes, forcing a fellow base-infiltrator to assume wolf form prematurely and risking the operation until other Imperials arrived to pick up the slack, but time and training had seen to that with lasting finality decades before that day. Though the results of all that training would be seen before the others could understand exactly how it happened, as all the weapons the ground-floor defence contingent were holding were telekinetically (and with violent intensity) cast to the wall nearby like darts, opening them up completely to the ensuing blaster-fire and cable-tie captures moments later, though not without the initial, silent moment of shock expressed by everyone else but Lord Michael in the room at the time.
'Floor cleared!'
'Good, though you'll need to jus' funnel them out for now.... We're moving up to the next floor! Lets go!'
First floor, much of the same but obviously more skilled in their stances, but like it was with the ground-floor, Lady Mira was able to replicate her father's method with ease, repeating Lord Michael's orders verbatim before the stun-fire was unleashed, holding her form right until the next floor was finally cleared with verbal confirmation. Second floor, Third Floor, Fourth Floor, all was much the same until the COMPFORCE troopers started streaming down from the Fifth Floor to meet the threat, as the sound of a Highlander affirming a cleared floor would naturally be heard much easier (and heard from two floors up at that) than the conventional soldiering sort; and the Sixth Floor would be the same, except for some very distinctive differences, and such that forced the Lord-Warden to augment his plan a little.
Instead of waiting to be captured like all the floors below, Dark Troopers from the Sixth-and-top Floor chose to make a stand like all the troopers who spilled down to the Fourth Floor, but were hidden among the architecture much more proficiently than their comrades, still being filtered out through the elevators and stairwells below; even firing off shots before the Warden finally decided to jump into their midst, with Mira joining the fun without even so much as a moment's warning, but others remained upstairs and it was clear they were readying for a last stand. Not that it mattered much in the end, as the fight upstairs would end just as it had on the Fifth floor, only this time the Highlanders and the troopers of the 908th would have their crack at the rough-housing attempts to subdue the remaining hurdles and all whilst the Baron and his accompanying Force-Users marched their way on to the door to Bline's command-room.
Setting to the last part of the process with heads held high, banging the last door between them and an assured peace, even if only for a time.
'Bline, we know you're in there an' if you wish not to talk, nor to open the door, all I need is for you to listen, understand? All I need is for your ears to hear the words of this message I have recorded for you here.'
<Click!> <"Well, Well, Well....
What - do - we have - here, Snake? Skittish of late, are we?
Interesting.... But ill-advised.">
I am sure you know my voice by now, Snake. Perhaps even the accent, as you're not the first to have dealings with my people.... You even know the voice of the man I represent, I am sure of this too.
I'll put you out of your misery with callsign alone.... Its Scimitar, recording on behalf of one - ah - Little Angel.... Rumour on the grapevine is that his sense of cruel irony rubbed off on you, and I genuinely believe it must have, especially if I have to rope a Pellaeonist into a plan to drag you back into the fold.
Our Tetan-born friend really doesn't like that by the way, but he is willing to forgive if you obey the commands of our Woad-born friend here, as he, for this one time, obeys the commands of his enemies.
The organisation has plans, but so - do - I.... Scimitar out!
Leaning into the door to speak, Lord Michael couldn't help but sympathise with the precariousness of the ringleader's position in the whole affair, unable to keep from considering the sheer danger Djorn had found in this Scimitar fellow, as it was by more than mere chance that this Kandaran was more than danger enough for the Woad in the fact he had been unable to detect the spy's presence in their encounter before. It had been enough that Lord Erskine had given his son ample warning in previous decades, telling plenty of the dangers presented by curious clandestine organisation's like COMPNOR and the ISB, but this one was different, cut from a cloak-and-dagger cloth like no other. A voice that was, calm and breathy though it was, eerily murderous when they first made contact in the kitchen of Barran's home on Sword Mountain, a voice of the like the Warden was sure he never wanted to hear again.
This man was a killer, and in the purest sense imaginable, much like Bline in the same regard; but unlike the decisive nature of Snake's missions, the type of jobs his contemporary accepted were altogether much more silent in nature, as not even a Warden-class clearance could give Lord Michael the level of access needed to remove the data-blotting on Scimitar's file. Clerically as dead as the Midichlorians of the one he met on that cold, wintry night just weeks before he left in search of Dooku's remains, as cold as the snowfall that danced outside the kitchen window, a ghost in almost every sense of the word - but undoubtedly corporeal in their one and (hopefully-) only meeting together.
It was enough to keep the Wanderer from looking into the Tetan, enough even to keep him from even thinking of it, setting the tone for an untethered clandestine organisation in an otherwise-chaotic Galaxy, a recipe for disaster if left unchecked. Though Lord Michael couldn't help but feel at least a little grateful, even if only for a lifeline that amounted to a year of Imperial prosperity at more, it was enough to clinch survival from the jaws of Imperial Fracture.
'I hope for your sake you could hear that on the speaker, Mr. Bline. As I also dislike those implications, an' almost as much as you do - I've been given other instructions after all.... Up to you, sir. Up to you.'
As Colton approached the entrance with a squad and half of his fellow storm troops he patched up he hears a loud crash followed by blaster fire "Sound like late to party boys and girls, time get lead out follow me!" And with that, he broke into a run, the banged-up trooper behind him did their best to keep up. As Colton and banged of mixed matched scad troopers run through where the gate used to be, and into the first-floor entrance seeing the incapacitated defectors laying on the floor, Colton gave the order to bind and secure them as best they could with materials on hand, the injuries and somewhat bloodied trooper set out following the order, using the defectors own equipment to bind and secure them, "Floor Secure!" one the troopers called, Colton nodded and replied, "Ok stranded diamond formation, we do same on each of upper floors as did, I'll take point, I know you are not in the best shape, but you're not dying on my watch, let's move." The troopers acknowledge and formed up as quickly as their injuries would let them, they made it up floor by floor repeating the process, until as they were coming down a hallway on the top floor they hear a voice coming from down the hall
I hope for your sake you could hear that on the speaker, Mr. Bline. As I also dislike those implications, an' almost as much as you do - I've been given other instructions after all.... Up to you, sir. Up to you.'
They cleared each floor faster than the Baron had expected, the Barrans using their Force abilities to instantly disarm all their opponents before taking them all down. Nines was sure to give the pair a good berth, partly to allow them to use their powers without fear of hurting him and partly due to his own paranoia concerning the Force. A few soldiers did come his way, but the Baron was able to make quick work of his disarmed foes.
By the sixth floor, FN-999 was starting to get weary. He no longer had the boundless stamina of his youth, meaning he would have to rely on his intuition more than raw strength and endurance. That would prove vital as a platoon of dark troopers emerged from the shadows. The droids were powerful and durable, and as reluctant as he was to admit it, he was deeply thankful to the Barrans for their assistance.
Eventually, they arrived at the final set of blast doors. An expression of shock lit up the Baron's features beneath his helmet as Michael played his recording, revealing the involvement of a certain Scimitar. He knew very little of the agent, only that they were an object of concern among the highest ranking Imperials, including Nines himself. He could only hope that any hidden meaning in the message would be enough to sway the Snake in one way or another.
At last, it seemed as if their operation was winding down.
The Baron swung around as a squad of stormtroopers came their way. They weren't 908th, but they weren't hostiles either. If they were, they would have already fired upon the group. Most of them appeared to be somewhat bruised and battered, but his concern faded as he noted a medic among their ranks.
"At ease, gentlemen." instructed the Baron to the unit in front of him. "The tower has been secured. Doc, get your squad patched up and then rendezvous at the marketplace two clicks south. The more healthy heads we have, the faster we'll wrap this all up."
"At ease, gentlemen." instructed the Baron to the unit in front of him. "The tower has been secured. Doc, get your squad patched up and then rendezvous at the marketplace two clicks south. The more healthy heads we have, the faster we'll wrap this all up."
"Copy that sir, we took the liberty of securing the surviving defectors on the way up." even through the voice modulator in his Helmet, TheMedic unmistakable, Aldrann, and Imperial accent came through. Alright Boys you heard the man, regroup on the ground, I'll do what I can for your injuries and then head for the marketplace south of here."
"yes, sir" the troopers replied in unison. As they did the best about-face their injuries would allow and started heading back down MT-40179 bring to the rear. As the group reached the ground MT-40179 gave each trooper a once over with his sight, and medical scanner as a few questions about their pain level and the like, and did some touch-ups on the bandages, pain killer, and Kolto injections as best he could with limit supplies in his medical backpack. "Alright line formation and double to the marketplace as best you can, I'll bring to rear, to keep anyone straggling, and do the best I can with I got to keep ya up, moved out!"
Michael Barran
moved, she moved too. She truly looked like his shadow, as her movements mirrored his. They did not even have to communicate, they already could tell what they were to do. They seemed cornered for the moment, but Michael always had a plan.
