It was mere moments until Astoach leapt from hyperspace, exploding into existence with a dull bang that resounded throughout the hull of his transport vessel and sent a shock rocking through the cabin. The ship sunk through orbit, steadily descending into the atmosphere of Eisei and rumbled, almost instantaneously, as the ship's shielding began to rise, bracing for the penetration. The cabin was small and dimly lit, courtesy of Astoach's preferences, provided that there be some contrasting illumination in the form of shadowy underlights lining the under edge of the rows of seat which spanned the interior's perimeter. Occasionally, when tactical signals were required, a red, blue, or green light would also cast incandescent auras of multiple colors from the back right corner, but other than this, and the piloting canopy sealed behind a bulkhead latch, the ship was cascaded into a veil of darkness. As the shaking began as the shields rose, the various troops who sat in the back, armored in varying degrees of plating and attire, each clutching their designated weaponry like a child to a stuffed bear, could not deny the soothing embrace of this unknown.
Astoach, however, within the confines of his own ship, dubbed the Golem (written along its side, no less) felt less than at peace. Various irritations regarding his position had already soured him into a spiteful mood and now, claustrophobic in the midst of a dozen other men, that sense of selfish privacy -- which he distinctly lacked -- was all that he truly wanted at this very moment. Regardless, he was to bite his tongue, for his mission, provided by the mysterious Director, stood above him in class and importance, even in his own perspective. The Paladin Astoach had grown to a much more solemn outlook, contemplating the consequences (and the overall religious equation into the philosophical question of karma) into his actions and, in turn, had grown far more mature because of it. That was not to say, perhaps, that he had grown from his manic tendencies, for Astoach was still easily captivated by swinging moods and the sharp, descending slope into violent rampages that often resulted in tremendous injury. One such example was his ear, shrouded in his locks of long, brunette hair that sprung wiry from his scalp, now malformed in the lobe by a very particular bite which chewed through his flesh. Women, thought Astoach with a mental tone of disgust.
They were all there for Operation: Sandbags. It was a name the Paladin himself had proposed, primarily out of a sense of black humor the Director oddly found amusing as well (for, unbeknownst to the lower levels of the Imperium hierarchy, the Director was infamous for his distinct lack of humor). Sandbags equate to the cannon fodder the Imperium had been recruiting of late for their venerable mission to expand the whimsical length of freedom through the Galaxy and, to expand such freedom, the directors of such a task needed an equally lengthy wall of bodies between them and any imminent danger. So far, they had been met with high success, despite the tragic incident upon Gamor which Astoach, weeks following the aftermath, had been reluctant to speak of. This silence expanded even to his closest lieutenant, Captain Thraxxus, who sat in equal awkward quietness, desperately praying that some unfortunate soul would step forward, sacrificing themselves to the risk he himself would dare not undertake, and break the ice. Yet, even as this wish came true, he still felt his heart freeze over like water upon Hoth, his visage paling as the ignorant voice seeped out from the dark unknown, "So, Lord Paladin, what happened to your ear?"
~
By the time the shuttle landed before the Rong Hua Monastery, Astoach had already vented his frustration and, descending the departure ramp which fell from the back of the shuttle, he skipped to the surface in eager abandon, leaving behind a squad of shaken soldiers in slow pursuit. Originally, a squad of the Imperium is composed of eight troops, in addition to a sergeant and whatever higher ranks might accompany the mission personally. In this case, there had been an entire squad, Wendigo Squad, in addition to their officer, Sergeant Candon, their platoon's officer, Lieutenant Gallow, and the company commander, Captain Thraxxus, as mentioned earlier. The Ironwrought Company was dedicated to Astoach's own interests, composed of just north of a hundred men and compromised of the "finest" platoons from across the Imperium. By finest, it is Astoach's sarcastic and shameful white lie that translates equally to "the only" platoons in the Imperium. The 001st Hangman, the 002nd Visage, the 003rd Rider, and the 004th Brace Platoons, the sole aspects of Imperial might and shoddy at that. However, as servants to Astoach, they quickly found themselves hardened to the shocks of war initially through the casual observation of Astoach's day-to-day behavoir. As the Wendigo Squad departed the shuttle, the grunts were only seven in number, with number nine left behind, mangled and broken, lain dead within the Golem.
[member="Kal'enedral Storvandre"]
