"The Kellas"
III
Operation: SHADOWDANCE
MUUNILINST, 865 ABY
Objective 3: BREAKING THE SILENCE
FRONT CHIMERA
Commonwealth Forces: Willan Tal Enedina Tal Tyrell Lockhart Amadeus Blackwood
Allies (NIO): Irveric Tavlar Rurik Fel Enlil Jaeger Harrsk
Kolson Vrask Areyon Detritus Ren Noel Strasza
Ravraa Vyshraal Zakaria Black Hâwmâr Lurais
Allies (NJO/GA/FO/SJC/): Aerarii Tithe Ishida Ashina Bernard
Kiara Ayres Bright4 Varn Barakis
Allies (OTHER): Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Aurelian Sigismund Vilaz Munin Allyson Locke
Enemies (TSE/CIS): Shuklaar Kyrdol Darth Mori Arctus Silmar Darth Empyrean Darth Carnifex
Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir Eva Betrik Lady Marrow Bastian Briareos
Gowrie's Loadout
Primary: Custom Blaster-Pistol (Right-hip Holster - left-or-right hand draw)
Secondary: Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Rapier (Left-hip Sheathe - right hand wielding)
Last Ditch/Second-Blade: Fairbairn Vibroknife (Right-hip Sheathe - right-or-left hand wielding)
Pocket-Weapon: Barbershop Razor (Right-pocket - right-hand wielding)
Wildcat Battalion (Mechanized/Artillery/Infantry)
55 Cataphract Tanks
20 AFVs
5 MLVs
2 Predator Launch-Platforms
2 Guardian Tac-Teams
1 Field-Medic Platoon
1 Combat-Engineer/Logistics Squad
4 Stolen MLVs
2 Stolen Ammo-Transports
The Glow of Death V - A Not-So-Redoubtable FOB (part 1)
<"Scott to Wildcat One! Clear to move and to choose your would-be redoubt when you arrive, plenty decent lines-of-sight to choose from.">
'Deag Obair, Neach-dìon Aon!'
*Good job, Guardian One!
<"Gabh air do shocair, a-thighearna. Chan e neach-brathaidh Woad a th ’annam! Tha Galactic-Basic ag obair nas fheàrr an seo, Neach-dìon Aon a-mach!">
*Calm yourself, Milord. I'm not a Woad spy! Galactic-Basic works better here, Guardian One out!
A roar of collective laughter lit up the Thistle from within, even the half-understanding Commoner Captain Reed could tell what the sudden irritations from Scott had been, and all finally relented on Guardian One, knowing at the root of it all that he was just as wild as they were. Others would've shrugged it off, but it was plain for all to see that Scott had something to prove by his transfer to Wildcat Battalion, something that took Gowrie's notice in the best possible way; it wasn't asked whether Scott was a born clansman or not, but it was beginning to show that the Wildcats' own Guardian One had more than common blood coursing through his veins, showing something of a storied family history in the way the Guard-Leftenant carried himself. If Guardian One had been a simple ranker, rising to such a position, then there would be a natural standard he would struggle to keep with once his commission had been bought out and settled into properly, but even under the Third Imperial Civil War's apocalyptic conditions, Byron Scott was flourishing in ways that only a Tuath noble or clansman could.
'Any dafties here gid wae Clan-names an' such?'
'Haud the bus, Milord.', Commoner-Captain Reed interjected, getting the gist of his new Lord-Commander's line-of-thought by the question's general content alone. Their ACV was on the move again, giving extreme cause for peak-alertness, but everyone was suddenly invested in the Lord-Colonel's inquiry into Scott's ancestral roots, all wondering if the highly-skilled Guard-Leftenant was something more after all, with each and every one of them almost chiding themselves over putting such thoughts to the backs of their minds. Leaning in closer, the Battalion's only Woad curiously prodded,'Are you tryin' ti tell me there's a chance Leftenant Scott could be a Tuath nobleman? Or a Clansman at the very least? You Tuaths an' yer esoteric ways really grind mah back teeth sometimes, honestly.', with an eyebrow of his own to offer in response to the one his Tuath-born commander threw his way beforehand.
'Whit's that mountainous region north o' Westcape called? Ah'm way too far North in mah upbringin' to know the touns an' such doun that way.... Minnonraer! THAT'S THE WAN!!! Clan Scott are the ancestral rulers of Minnonraer, and once upon a time, bitter rivals to the Milton-gang! Your auld stomping-ground, sir....'
The Glow of Death VI - The Not-So-Redoubtable FOB (part 2)
We are much too exposed out here... In the light, the dark, even behind cover - these ruins have eyes that kill!
Bantering away as the Thistle drew closer to their would-be command-center, the occasional outcropping of vehicles and infantry detachments would be spotted along the way as they waved the Lord-Commander's ACV through, each acting with their own unofficial confirmations of safe-conduct as the Thistle proceeded at a steady pace. With one discovery bringing about enough excitement to shorten the journey somewhat, the other revelation that reared it's ugly head was showing to be a perfect means to continue in the efforts to combat stress, boredom and fear; a distraction that was welcomed by all, even Captain Reed, who was still being mercilessly subjected to the wind-up efforts of his commander's trusty crewmen by the time the Thistle started slowing to a neutral-engine halt. Not that Alun cared much for it, he was always outspoken about his common heritage, and his disdain for all the crime-infested corners of Westcape in general was always a subject he ended up ranting (and quite ruefully) about.
'Ooftya! Whit were the chances o' that? Ohohohohoho! I wonder if he knows aw'ready! Bets 'e duzz, Bets - he - does!'
'Heh! An' bets he does'nae even care about it that much, Mortimer.', the Lord-Commander interjected, sliding the side-door open as the gravel steadily stopped crunching beneath the Thistle's tracks. Turning back to the others, Lord Aron beckoned his crewmen out with a simple wave of the hand, jumping out as Leftenant Scott's men approached from (what they viewed as) the best choice of secluded location for the command-centre, and from what the Kellas could make out so far, it looked very much like they had chosen the right spot for their FOB after all. Ticking all the right boxes, with even greater potential for further-disguising and fortification, Gowrie knew this was the right spot without even needing to step inside, but the Lord-Colonel also it would be better if he didn't tempt fate so early into the op. Muttering,'I suppose we better take a wee gander inside, eh?', Lord Aron then sneered a little before rounding on Scott's men and concluding,'Lead the way, gentlemen. Show me what your commander found on his merry travels!', with an appraising tone.
They were led through an open terminal of what appeared to be the cadaverous remnants of an underground transport station, subject to years of degradation and decay from the outside, and the world's aches and pains from the battles of before. Such rigors, however, (noticed in the diminishing amounts of friendly-cautions as they continued) would become less-pronounced as they marched deeper beneath the building's surface, with details in the architecture showing aesthetics from recent centuries that the Thistles crewmen recognised with ease. Several lines of defence were likely to be set along each layer of the complex they passed, all with extensive room and access for hidden, or stolen vehicles; but their journey came to fortunate stop at a double-door that led down a hallway to their intended destination, a lush, luxurious lounge-and-bar combination which had been built in a country-club aesthetic.
Full o' the pleasant surprises the-day, Leftenant....
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