Faction Welcome to the team

[Tien Ulinesque]

T E A C H​

Objective: Down to Business
Time: 0800 Hours
Equipment: XIPHOS Armor, BAW 56 Pistol (2)
Tags: | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Jalan Riyadosh | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Captain King | @To Be Added |

It was a season of change for the Dauntless. One that encompassed more and more of Tien’s every day life as he looked around him. What he had known was changing, quickly. The Dauntless solider army was no longer a part of the Confederacy, instead dissolved into hundreds of smaller, more planetary based organizations of men and women. They could stick closer to home, which was a good thing the more he thought about it. The Dauntless army had strewn across the entire Confederacy, and many good people had been pulled quite far from their homes. Now they were able to see their families more, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t tradeoffs that seemingly outweighed the good that had come from the dissolvement of the army.

For one thing, it had thrown what had been a good way to recruit new commandos out the window. One of the most for sure ways of recruiting new blood was through recommendations from combat saw in the army. It was a solid way of getting seasoned, ready, and loyal blood quickly and efficiently. Recommendations could still be made through the new planetary army for soldiers they thought fit the bill, but Tien could already see that this way of recruiting might turn into a kark shoot faster than anything else.

Thankfully, they had not had to deal with these recommendations just yet. The new recruits, while starting to trickle out, were still majorly filled by former army members that had proven themselves worthy of an invitation. Tien’s new assignment was back at camp Phoenix, in charge of training the new recruits to the point where they could be described as a well-oiled, smooth running machine. What he had learned was that most of the recruits, while talented, had little idea of how to work together in a cohesive group and were much more raw than he would’ve liked. So far, he had been able to deploy two new squads into active duty.

But today, a new challenge would begin. The challenge of Tau squad. His next assignment, and by looking at their personnel records, his hardest group to work with yet. Individuals from all different points on the compass, thrown together into one group with the expectation of being able to work together. Sometimes he didn’t understand the choices, but they were all signed off on by Luna, so she must know something about these sentients he didn’t. Still, everyone missed from time to time, and Tau squad looked as though they were a failure waiting to happen on day karking one.

This was partly why his mood was so sour while he stood in the blazing Scarif sunlight. The radiated off of the concrete of the gathering area just outside the elevators to the lower portion of the base, feeling as though it was cooking him in his armor. Thankfully he was beginning to get used to it, something he doubted the new recruits would be able to say. Maybe it would be the heat that would cause them to quit, or possibly what Tien was about to put them through would. How low his opinion of the green commandos was probably the other part of his unhappy mood at the moment.

It was 0800 now, the meeting time. They would be here soon, and they would get started. How long they lasted, that was up to them. Tien was certainly not about to go easy on them. It would help him sleep at night to know they had quit now, instead of dying of dying on the battlefield.

 

[Udrid]

Udrid was just an everyday soldier, he had gone into a number of battles and held his own well enough. Well enough it seems to have been selected for training in a Commando unit, or something to that effect. He didn’t expect to make it out of this without a few injuries and a lot of hurt, but he was prepared to face the challenge of training there. He, thanks to his military training thus far, was there at 0800 on the dot, and stood at attention where he was meant to. He didn’t intend to impress the drill sergeant, that was always impossible, he intended to make the set standard, at the bare minimum.

He wore his training uniform, which was properly pressed and taken care of, and was kept in good condition, even though it had nothing on it save his rank. He wasn’t very high up but he wasn’t the lowest rung on the ladder.

 

[Captain King]

L E A R N​

Objective: Down to Business
Time: 0800
Equipment: DC-17 Blaster Pistols ( Dual ), Armour ( See Image )
Tags: | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Jalan Riyadosh | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Tien Ulinesque |

Perhaps the first thing King noticed about the camp he arrived at was the sweltering heat of the planet. It wasn't the dry heat of Tatooine, Tatooine might've been preferable. Humidity made heat worse, it made you sweat and made the heat cling to you. Soldiers never fought the same when they were facing humidity. It crippled sieges and destroyed moral, it brought strong men to their knees and sent sane men mad.

That was not to say, however, that King would let it break him. He had survived the Clone Wars, cheated Death more times than there were days in a year. He sure as Hell wasn't going to let some beach planet kill him.

He pressed his thumbs against his DC-17's, reassuring himself of their presence. They had been a gift from an ARC Lieutenant who had met him back on Kamino, at the start of the War. He had barely been a Private back then, having passed his final exam with flying colours, whilst carrying one of his fallen squad-mates over his shoulder.

They had not been an award for good marks, the Lieutenant had said. They were a reward for his valour and bravery, burdening himself with the weights of another man, no matter the cost or impediment to himself. At the time, he had been the talk of the barracks. He had received an officer's weapons, but not just any officer's, an ARC Lieutenant's. It was an accomplishment almost unique to him.

He cursed under his helmet at how foolish he had been back then, to forget why he had held the weapons. He had blown it off with silent gratitude, thinking the Lieutenant had been somewhat foolish. After all, had he not simply performed by the parameters of the test? No man left behind, that was the doctrine they had to embody for that test.

Yet now he understood. He knew the full meaning of being a brother, of going beyond the call of duty. To drag the body to the base of the tower or secure it was the minimum, yet King had carried it to the top of the Citadel Tower. He had not just left the body to be safe, he had let them complete the trial with his squad.

This new Confederacy might look like the last one, but he had already determined it was different in many ways. After all, a name didn't determine what one was, it simply likened them to known things and described them. After all, he was not really a King, he simply represented the ideal, fantastical version of one that everyone liked to believe in.

The Old Clone had found himself with a Galaxy to explore, and nothing the same. So he had fled to the only thing that sounded similar, even they had been the enemy. After all, as a wise man once said, when you are found without allies, turn to the enemy with the least to gain. And so he had turned to the Confederacy, for he knew that they could gain nothing from him. He would die before he divulged the Republic's outdated secrets.

He had found Clones, if not Clones, then those who took the armour of his brothers and fought alot like them.

So he had come to find them and join them. What else could he do? He was thankful for the helmet, since it at the very least managed to keep most of the heat out. He brushed his hands against his pistols once more, enjoying the comfort of their safety. He lifted his helmet off, and rubbed a thumb against a smudge mark, then placed it back on, taking a deep breath to take in the calm, regulated flow of air that he had come to expect.

He straightened his arms to his sides, holding them their and turned on his right hell, doing a perfect ninety degree turn, a right face. He then began a fast-paced march, quickly covering the brief distance to the meeting point. He lined up infront of the non-commissioned officer who seemed to be arranging the formation.

He took initiative and took another right face, lining up infront of the officer. He raised his right hand, holding it there in full salute as he called out, his eyes searching beneath his visor for the officer's rank.

"Master Sergeant Sir! Recruit CT-6122 King reporting for duty, Sir!"

He kept his hand to his head, saluting in Grand Army standard, and using the same standard to address his superior. There were many things King would do for them, but there were things they could not take from him. They would not take his armour, that had saved him from death more often than it hadn't, his blasters, which he had owned almost his entire active-duty period, and his customs and procedures. They were his, and he'd die before they took them.

It didn't matter to him if the armour was eight hundred years out of date, if it had scratches and dirt on it. It didn't matter that his blasters were scarred by battle, or that his customs were not so applicable. He would wear them, even if it meant he was out of uniform, even if it meant he had a weapon when he shouldn't have. He was a Captain in the Grand Army of the Republic, 675th Siege Battalion, Bloody Saints Squad.

​

​

 

[Jalan Riyadosh]

Objective: Down to Business
Time: 0800
Equipment: Training Uniform
Tags: | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Captain King | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Tien Ulinesque |

Jalan had arrived promptly, but remained quiet up to a point. She stood in the formation, her usual set of armor set aside to begin learning on the same level as everyone else. She had been catching up in regards to socializing, but now felt she should have offered something more to the group that she called hers. Certain events had led her to seek out opportunities to make herself into something more than just a being wielding both arcane and force abilities. She wanted to work with others, to be able to mesh with other units.

Blend in with them instead of feeling always likes an outsider as her guardian had tried to do.

Which was why she was quietly lined up and mimicking others in position and watching Captain King when he approached and gave his salute. And sound off. She had nothing in regards to rank, and most everything she did have was handed to her. Something she could never feel proud of earning, of achieving with her own skills. Separating herself from that ease was a conscious choice, and while the sweltering heat of Scarif was certainly not making life fun, it was certainly going to be worth it in the end.

If she made it there.

 

[Tegan Farron]

Location: Scarif - Camp Phoenix
Attire: Training Uniform
Tags: | Tien Ulinesque | Eva Winburn | Jalan Riyadosh | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Captain King |

-------------

It felt like punishment; more punishment. While logically, Tegan was very aware of the fact that her being transferred was not in fact some sort of punishment against her, it still certainly felt that way. No, logically she knew why she was here. She knew why she had been prompt to show up on time, knew why she had been quick to fall into formation, knew why she was here overall. Her body retained muscle memory; she could recall how to fight, how to shoot, how to do anything and everything that required her body. But that was it. There was still no recollection of anything else. Not the people who knew her, not the memories she was supposed to have with said people. Those connections and bonds, the ability to trust her squad and rely on them wholly? It was all gone, and it had been causing problems for everyone involved. That was why Tegan was here, for a fresh start, to learn with a new squad, to form new bonds.

It still felt like a punishment.

That didn't stop her from doing what she was told. It also didn't stop her from being painstakingly aware of the heat that was soaking into her skin. Already there was a sheen of sweat across her brow, but she did not move thus far to wipe it away. She remained in place, lined up even as others came about. Seems it wasn't just privates being assigned to this reformation - or perhaps it was choice on their part. Either way, soon enough rank wasn't going to matter; not when it came to becoming a solidified unit. Though perhaps that was slightly bitter, and the fact made Tegan close her eyes briefly to push the thoughts away.

This wasn't about things lost to her in the past; this was about pressing forward. She had to press forward...so long as the heat didn't take her out first.

 

[Subject 82 Snow]

Location: Scarif, Camp Phoenix
Objective: Down to Business
Tags: Tien Ulinesque Tegan Farron Eva Winburn Udrid Captain King Saram Kote Jalan Riyadosh

Snow walked up to the meeting point for her new assignment. Today, she wore her usual light armor, holding her helmet at her side. She could see the other trainees wearing the training uniform, except for a few others. One included a man in... Was that old Clone Trooper armor? Absolutely, bizarre. That stuff was more than eight hundred years old. What in the world was it doing in this century? She was just glad that she wasn't the only one not in a training uniform. In this humid of a climate, wearing that armor must be absolutely horrible. Snow wasn't that affected by the climate of Scarif. Hot, humid, wet, this was all familiar to her, having grown up to train for everything and anything that could happen in a soldier's line of work. She was used to this, the other trainees, she had no idea how they would fair in this climate.

She fell into formation along with the others, in front of who appeared to be their instructor. Snow had a good amount of time to look at her fellow trainees. A quiet, nervous-looking girl stood in the back, remaining silent. Another woman stood in formation, also remaining silent. A rugged looking man stood nearby, wearing the training uniform. And then there was that man wearing the Clone Trooper armor, who she stood next to in formation. Then, suddenly, the man in the armor gave a salute to the Sergeant in front of them, and spoke. Snow couldn't believe her ears. He spoke in the exact same voice of a Clone Trooper, and in the style like she heard on the holorecordings. Was this guy an 800 year old Clone Trooper? Jeez, talk about old.

Snow gave a small salute to the non-com officer. "Recruit Subject 82, codename Snow, reporting." She said before lowering her hand back down. It was just a force of habit, she had grown up drilled on greeting superior officers. It was one of the more boring segments of their training, but they had to do it nonetheless.

This squad was going to be a weird one.

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

Squad: Alpha Squad
Objective: Observation
Equipment: Project Xiphos Armor | Modular Tri-Blaster | Micro Light Shield | Bayonet | Comlink

Tiria stood off to one side of where the "Commandos" were gathering. The caramel colored woman idly polished the bayonet knife under the sun without sparing a moment to glower at the source of light and heat. Her green eyes didn't even lift to regard those assembling before Tien. Nevertheless, the Master Sergeant of Alpha knew who they were and that not all of them should be there. A matter she'd keep to herself for the time being.

It seemed a worthwhile spend of her time to see what Tien did with Tau. After all, there was a lot of...adjustment going on of late. Some of it best letting the men work out or take a break to settle in with the new normal between exercises. Have some time to gossip among one another about their future. What normal people did. Let them work it out of their system before she busted their asses and straightened them out so they could get back to work. From Tien's expression, Tiria doubted he wanted to give Tau the same chance. Considering how inexperienced some of them looked, it probably wasn't a bad idea.

Being this was Tien's show, Tiria didn't make a noise from where she leaned back against some crates. Maybe he wouldn't appreciate her presence, but in the end it'd only help. Unannounced, high ranking officer standing off to the side polishing a blade? By all means, stare and earn Tien's personal and undivided attention. Free opportunity to instill discipline and order without having to nitpick someone blinking at the wrong time.

Tag: Tien Ulinesque | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Udrid | Captain King | Saram Kote | Jalan Riyadosh | Subject 82 Snow

 

[Eva Winburn]

---​

 

[Eva Winburn]

---​

 

[Eva Winburn]

S T A R T O V E R​

Objective: Fresh Start
Time: 0802 Hours
Equipment: BAW-77 Assault Rifle, Medical Pack
Tags: | Tegan Farron | Tien Ulinesque | Jalan Riyadosh | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Captain King |

Fresh start.

That’s what this was. There was no mistake about it. She couldn’t cut it as a run and gun medic and solider, so they found a spot for her some place else. It just so happened that that place they decided to shove her was a brand new, no combat experience squad. To be fair, she had only ever been deployed once, to Rodia, and that wasn’t even supposed to be a combat experience. At least as far as she knew. The higher ups definitely knew something else was going to happen that day. She still had no doubt about that, but unless Eva was hunting for a court martialing sometime in the future.

So now she was here, sweating in the sweltering Scarif heat, a massive alien of unknown origin speaking to them at the front of the line. None of this squad had ever been someone she had worked with before, save for the blonde standing to her right in the line. Tegan had been with her since the beginning of their training, so it only made sense that they would both be getting a fresh start together as well. Maybe this time it would even work out better. For the both of them.

That better ending would need to start off better as well. Her eyes glared at the hulking commando in front of them, taking in as much information as possible. This is where the expectations would be laid out, the goals formed. The very first meeting was always the most important. It laid the foundation that would either be a toxic or flourishing. Eva had a mind about her to try and make it the latter, but by the looks of the very scary looking other officer standing off to the side, these two had it in their minds to put the new squad through the ringer.

All she could hope for was that her trigger finger didn’t get itchy….again.

 

[Tien Ulinesque]

T E A C H​

Objective: Down to Business
Time: 0800 Hours
Equipment: XIPHOS Armor, BAW 56 Pistol (2)
Tags: | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Jalan Riyadosh | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Captain King | @To Be Added |

Even reading their personnel files, Tien could’ve never foreseen such a…conglomerate group of individuals. They all had their own personal strengths and weaknesses, much like any group, but the varied histories they all had coming could make them gelling together as a team and squad harder than necessary. If couple of everyday soldiers, a clone out of time, a former pilot, and an experiment was what constituted a squad nowadays, then they must be really stretched to find new recruits. Just seeing them up close and in line now was running doubts into his mind about turning them into something serious.

Once it seemed like they all had arrived, the hulking alien spared a glance over at the other master sergeant who had made her way into the room. He shared with her a look a distaste. They had both been doing this for way too long to know a hard job when they saw one. But perhaps after the first day they would begin to change his mind. There were good qualities there. Tien gave the woman a little nod, acknowledging any help that she felt like giving, and turned back to the group of trainees with a renewed look in his eye.

“Recruits, if you do not know who I am, allow me to introduce myself to you.” His back straightened, standing more at attention now and adding a few extra inches to his already impressive height. “My name is Master Sergeant Ulinesque. You may call me by my rank or sir, but however you address me, it be with respect.” That much was to already be understood. These were raw recruits in terms of commando training, but they were not that green. They knew how to handle themselves. At least, that’s what he hoped.

Folding his hands behind his back, Tien began to make his way up and down the line, getting eye contact with each recruit before moving on. “I will be your point of contact and drill instructor for your time here at Camp Phoenix. Through my time serving under the dauntless flag, I have gained the experience necessary to turn you all into a cohesive unit that we can deploy to any place that is called for.” He believed that, he truly, truly did. Tien knew he had the ability to do it, it was just the challenge of following through with that ability.

He stopped at the former clone, eyeing the man up and down. A good solider. At least he was. Perhaps he still would be. The others had hope too. They wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t hope for them as a squad. His stride slowed to a stop as he came to be standing in front of them once again, stoic expression on his face. “This week will be the hardest of your life. You will leave here as a squad, or in pieces. It is up to you to determine which it is.” Standing at attention once more, his regarded what was, hopefully, to become tau squad.

“Are there any questions?”

​

 

[Udrid]

Tags: | Tegan Farron| Eva Winburn | Jalan Riyadosh | Saram Kote | Subject 82 Snow | Captain King | @To Be Added |

There were no questions in his mind, he just wanted to get through this training and prove that he was capable and worthy of the ‘promotion’ to Tau Squad trainee. Hi sorry marksmanship was slightly above that of the average soldier, he was about the same strength and speed, but where he shined most brightly was close combat and stealth, mostly guerilla warfare against enemies prepared for long distance fighting. He was about average everywhere else, something he hoped to change for the better during this training.

He stayed silent, as soldiers were generally supposed to be unless spoken to by a superior officer. And he simply waited for further instructions.

 

[Captain King]

L E A R N​

Objective: Down to Business
Time: 0800
Equipment: DC-17 Blaster Pistols ( Dual ), Armour ( See Image )
Tags: | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Jalan Riyadosh | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Tien Ulinesque |

Pale red eyes stared unwaveringly forward through the visor that covered them. Some might say that a mask hid one's eyes, yet that it is only partially true. There is a difference between hiding, and lying in wait, simply waiting, unseen yet felt. If one needed to see another's eyes to feel their gaze when they were meant to, then the gaze lacked proper conviction or reason.

King's hand never drifted down from his forehead, planted firmly to the upper portion of his helmet, just covering the visor. Perhaps one day he would get a sun visor, or a shoulder antennae.

He had declined a commission to Commander during the Clone Wars. It would have seen him take commanding of the 832nd Reconnaissance Regiment. He had declined it for three reasons; One, the change from going from a Siege Battalion to a Recon Regiment, Two, His loyalty to his Marshal Commander, and Three, because Commanders didn't fight on the front lines.

But that didn't seem to be a problem here. He had barely been out of the carbonite for a year before he had heard stories of the Head of State and his Deputies fighting in the front lines in wars against Mandalorians. Though at the same time, he had heard that the Head of State was himself an Alor, a Clan Leader. So he held no judgement there.

He was vaguely aware of the arrivals after him, and the eyes checking him out. This was something he'd come to expect. His armour might not be so unique looking by itself, after all, the Dauntless Corps had their own version, an updated version. Or hopefully, atleast. It would be a shame that, after eight hundred years, technology hadn't advanced.

But now he had seen the Dauntless' versions in person? His couldn't look any more different. It carried scars from both shrapnel and plasma, scratches from brute forcing droids, yet it held up. It was well kept. It was good armour. Yet it was also unique in a way that the Dauntless could never be. It was a machination of both Phase 1 and Phase 2 Clone Trooper armour.

While he knew the feat was neither unique nor practical for mass production, he knew it was Unique. He had the care to cover up the weld marks, unlike the other Clone to have done it. Another clone famous for being a Captain and wielding DC-17 pistols in tandem. Except, where King wore red, he wore blue. Where King laid siege, he delivered the final blow.

Rex was a true legend. A clone unrivalled in heroism, bravery and morals. He could only assume he was dead, no matter how much he wished otherwise. It was only practical.

So he had come to expect the stares for his armour, and his face. His physique. After all, the Clone Wars were no small conflict. The War had engulfed the Galaxy, destroyed civilisations and burned planets. Thanks, in no small part, to both sides. He could not believe in the Republic's rightness, not in High Command. He believed in the men who fought and bled for them, whether they be Clone, Jedi or Civilian.

It was hardly long before the Non-Commissioned Officer began his address. He introduced himself, but not the Officer who hung to the side, showing no proper respect or authority, simply observing. It was an attitude to be expected of a field officer, a Lieutenant improperly promoted and placed. It was not an attitude he expected, nor that he would tolerate. He recognised that perhaps they were there to intimidate the recruits.

He also recognised that perhaps they didn't truly know who was there. For all the destruction and horror the Clone Wars had wrought, for all they had taken from the Captain, they had left far more. He had lost any fear of death or pain, for he had experienced it all. He had stared Death in the face, and watched it walk away.

If he were to die, if he were to be punished, he would go willingly. For he knew his purpose. To be a soldier. War did not come with a guarantee. No soldier got the promise of safety, survival or victory. It was earnt. He knew what he had to do, and it was about more than just following orders. It was about honour.

He was brought out of this thought pattern, snapped back to reality by something said by the Master Sergeant. He had introduced himself as Ulinesque. It was an interesting name, but one that was insignificant in comparison to what followed.

'You may call me by my rank, or sir.'

It felt like yesterday that he had heard Rex say those exact same words. And the day before that, Alpha-17 addressing them in the ARC Training Program. Fond memories. Good memories. Memories that he would never let go. Memories he would never sour with pain nor sadness. They were not tragedies. They were memories of his brothers. Those who he stood shoulder to shoulder with on the front lines, united.

Had King been a weaker man, he might've avoided looking at the Master Sergeant. Had he any ounce of fear in him, he would've kept his head straight. Yet he didn't. When Ulinesque stopped infront of him and looked him up and down, he lowered his hand from his head and gripped his helmet by the sides, twisting it slightly and lifting it off of his head, returning the Sergeant's stare, looking him up and down.

Removing his helmet served King a dual purpose. It set an example. It let his comrades, and indeed his superiors, know that he was not one to be pushed around and to stand idly by. It let them know he had felt more pain than they could ever inflict upon him. But it also let them see his face. If ever there was a doubt as to his identity, he would not allow it to remain.

The face that returned the Master Sergeant's was that of Jango Fett, Legendary Mandalorian Bounty Hunter, renowned throughout the ages and forever remembered in Mandalore's history, and indeed, that of the Galaxy. He had a light goatee, kept at skin-height. His hair was black, and his cheekbones dull, yet memorable, his cheeks shallow yet in a desirable way.

The only inconsistency was his eye colour. Where all others had been a rich brown, his were a pale red. Yet similarly enough coloured to the brown that was so recognisable in a Clone that it was almost indistinguishable, yet giving him an air of uniqueness.

He offered the Master Sergeant a final stare before he moved on, and King placed his helmet onto his head once again, then lowered his hands to his side. His posture had not dropped one bit, his heels never shifting apart and his hands unmoving unless purposefully so. It was the form of one who had known nothing but discipline his whole life, who knew that it could be the difference between Life and Death.

​

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

Squad: Alpha Squad
Objective: Observation
Equipment: Project Xiphos Armor | Modular Tri-Blaster | Micro Light Shield | Bayonet | Comlink

Master Sergeant Reinhart shoved the bayonet blade into its sheath along her back. Her right hand reached up and drew the tri-blaster from over her shoulder before setting it to Carbine mode. The load out of the weapon shifted and extended from the pistol configuration in her grasp. Her dark eyes slid down its length before she brought it up to check the sights. Pointing it away from the helpless recruits, of course. One must practice proper gun safety at all times, and she had no desired to destroy the new faces.

In the span of two seconds Tiria ejected, inspected, and inserted the magazine back into the weapon.

"No questions," Tiria spoke at last while her eyes peered down the length of her rifle. "Wasted opportunity by the recruits. Perhaps they'll find out why later when they feel like they're about to collapse." Wouldn't matter if they asked certain questions now or later, they'd get the same answer. Even statements would be treated as questions. "I can't go on, sir," would draw an inevitable, "Did I give you permission to stop?" rebuke. But there were some questions perhaps they'd like to get off their chest now, before they were exhausted. No right answer in this case. Just part of the education process. A little harassment to keep the recruits on their toes.

Tag: Tien Ulinesque | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Udrid | Captain King | Saram Kote | Jalan Riyadosh | Subject 82 Snow

 

[Jalan Riyadosh]

Objective: Down to Business
Time: 0800
Equipment: Training Uniform
Tags: | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Captain King | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Tien Ulinesque |

There were no questions from Jalan, opting to move her eyes and keep track of the things going on around her. She listened, storing the information before a question did in fact come to mind. Unsure of how to properly, or formally ask the question, she instead went for the most brunt way of asking.

"Sir! How are we to address those outside of this unit, Sir?" She called from her spot to Tien Ulinesque , making her self quite clear. There were no inflections in her words, returning to her initial state of being when entering the witches of the confederacy.

 

[Tien Ulinesque]

T E A C H​

Objective: Down to Business
Time: 0800 Hours
Equipment: XIPHOS Armor, BAW 56 Pistol (2)
Tags: | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Jalan Riyadosh | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Captain King | @To Be Added |

In reality, Tien cared very little if this group of soldiers had multiple questions or not. They would learn the rules, regulations, and how the Dauntless did things very soon. Experience was a much better teacher than anything he could say. It had certainly taught him practically everything he had known. Thrown into the fires of Eshan and come out the man he was today. Hopefully these green recruits wouldn’t have to face anything to such a firey level, but today would go far to determining just how tough these recruits truly were.

But before that, there was a question to be answered. He had asked for them, and despite his partner’s musings, if he asked, typically he did want an answer. The man’s eyes focused on the private who asked the question, looking her up and down before nodding slowly. “I would address anyone on this base by their rank first. At least in formal situations. You’ve all been in the military, you know nicknames will pop up eventually. Just be smart when you use them, and especially not in the Grand Marshall’s presence. That is my best advice for that question.” He gave her another nod, not really caring whether or not his answer completely sufficed. It was how he would handle the situation, and if they chose to do it differently, they would find that there were good ways and bad ways of handling such things on their own.

With that out of the way, and seeing no other questions being posed, Tien took to his position at the front of the group once again. “Let’s get stared then. You should have brought your gear packs with you to today’s training. If you did not, then that is your own fault for not preparing as you should. Dauntless are always prepared for the situation before it occurs, whether it occurs or not.” No one had told the rookies to bring their gear, but if they had, it would only be a boost to what Tien had planned for them. Looking to the side, a pair of speeders had begun to land and hover just a few meters away. “Stow your stuff and hop in. We’ve got a ride ahead of us. Move!”

The mad dash for the privates to get ready in the short time period would be amusing to see, and might’ve drawn his attention had his partner not been lingering behind him. Instead, he turned to face her, raising an eyebrow in question as he walked over. “How are you feeling about this group of greenies?”

​

 

[Udrid]

Tags: | Tegan Farron| Eva Winburn | Jalan Riyadosh | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Captain King | @To Be Added |

His gear pack. He had brought it with him, but he had set it aside for when he was put in line with the others. Swiftly grabbing it and jogging conservatively but quickly, he stowed his bag, then turned to help his comrades so that’s they could hop in ahead of him while he operated the stowing of the stuff. Once the badges were stowed he quickly checked to see if anyone had lagged, helped anyone that did, then hopped in himself. He didn’t know if he was supposed to be doing this, and if directly ordered to cease and get in he’d do so, but they were his comrades, even though he didn’t know anyone yet, and a soldier always helped a fellow soldier.

 

[Captain King]

L E A R N​

Objective: Down to Business
Time: 0800
Equipment: DC-17 Blaster Pistols ( Dual ), Armour ( See Image )
Tags: | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Jalan Riyadosh | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Tien Ulinesque |

King, in his days in the Grand Army of the Republic, had never been known for packing his life onto his back, not like the ARCs, not like the Commando Squads, not like the Reconnaissance Regiments. He'd always been mobile. He'd never taken to large weapons, he preferred his pistols, or a DC-15S if the need arose.

Funny, in a way, how they were all clones of the same man, yet they were each unique in personality. It was truly a testament to the age old saying to not judge a book by it's cover. He could never neglect those who he called Brother.

Rarer, but still as unique as any other. There were those who dedicated their lives to regulations and protocol, those who acted like they'd never heard the word discipline before, and those whose entire persona changed when they picked up a rifle and slipped a helmet on. Not a single one of them was the same.

But that fumbling thought didn't distract King from the task at hand.

The Master Sergeant had just issued a board-up order on some nearby speeders, but not before rambling on about how a Dauntless was prepared for every situation, regardless of whether or not it actually happened.

King, however, found this slightly self-defeating. To his understanding, the Dauntless were recruited from exterior military or combatant formations. Any soldier should know to bring what they need, and in the scenario they can't, then never leave barracks without the things they can use in any scenario.

He was used to long-lasting sieges and invasions dotted with rescue missions that took him behind enemy lines that had just recently been friendly lines. He was used to travelling light because travelling heavy was suicide, or because there was always a base camp to return to.

So, fittingly, he hadn't brought his pack. He simply didn't need it. In his belt pockets he had rations enough to last him a week, spare ammo, and very basic medical supplies. Not to mention his trusted DC-17's that had seen him through many a battle. The rations would last him long enough to find either a water source or base. If one of the above criteria was met, then that invalidated the other. If he found water, then he would find animals to hunt or plants to eat. If he found a base, they would provide for him.

He really didn't need to think about what it failing to meet both of those criteria would mean for him, because he had long ago come to terms with death, and death from dehydration, starvation or otherwise was far better than being captured alive. It was a basic fact that should be embedded into any soldier or officer with any knowledge valuable to the enemy.

He was faintly aware of the Dauntless Officer who had stayed in the background remarking about the lack of questions, only to be answered by a fellow recruit who asked the simple question of how to address a soldier outside of their unit. Perhaps they were from a private militia, or some form of cobbled together armed forces that did not practise proper respect and rank recognition.

You always addressed another soldier by their rank if you didn't know their name. If they were your superior, then you added in a sir or ma'am and saluted unless ordered otherwise. It was basic knowledge in any military worth it's name.

He turned on his heel, facing the speed, and marched over with all the authority of a general leading a parade, but all the casualness of a field officer, though he was not so foolish as to hide the feeling that he could break out into a full ceremonial march should the command be given.

Out of the corner of his eye, he was vaguely aware of a comrade packing his own baggage into the speeders, then turning to help his fellows. It was a mark he might've looked for when recruiting new clones into the Bloody Saints. He almost turned to help them, almost, only turned away by a quick scene that danced over his eyes.

The scene was one he recognised from his past. He was wearing the blue markings of a Lieutenant, before they had marked their armour with their regiments colours. Around him were LAAT/i's, being loaded up by shinies with crates. Out of some of the crates, he could see rifles, on others, he could see the cross that marked medical supplies.

The sky was full of dark, gray clouds. Thunder rung out in his ears, overpowering the roar of the sea and the rain hitting hard against the metal platforms they stood on, pelting against his duraplast armour and the durasteel of the LAATs. The only thing louder than it was the shouts of those wearing armour striped in that dark, forest green. The green worn by sergeants in the early days of the War.

It took him less than a second to place the memory. He was on Kamino in Tipoca City, supervising the assignment of a fresh batch of shinies to the 675th Siege Battalion. More specifically, the final day, where they loaded up the gunships that would take them and their supplies up to the Acclamators and Venators hanging in low orbit.

It was a strong memory, one that reminded him of the days when the War had just begun. He had first gotten the rank of Lieutenant as a field promotion when the clone in his place had been nailed in the visor by a clanker.

It was a strong memory. But a bad memory.

King vividly remembered his thoughts that day. How he thought seeing all the fresh shinies. How he thought seeing all the cadets still being trained. How he knew that they would all join the War one day, and how he knew that so many of them would die. It was one of the reasons that he tied in to why he declined the Commander's commission. He couldn't handle the responsibility back then. He couldn't live with himself if he ordered men to rush headfirst into their death.

So what did he do? He put himself on the front lines, doing the hard slogging under fire so that all the newbies back at base were stuck on inventory duty. They might not have liked it, but he doubted that a single one of them would trade it for a day on the frontlines like they all boasted. He threw himself behind enemy lines, stepped infront of blaster bolts and stood on grenades to save the Brothers that had been lost to the enemy, that nobody else could afford to save.

He turned his head back to the speeder, and silently boarded up, lacking the authority of a general and poise of a bridge officer he had held just moments before. Now he marched with the heavy-hearted commitment of a front-line officer. One who had seen men die, held them as they screamed and felt as the Brothers who had been standing shoulder to shoulder next to him fell back, knocked down by the impact of enemy fire.

He knew that that night, he would not sleep. If he felt tired, then he would stay awake, in memory of them. He would not rest while they were in his mind. It was the least he could do, now that he could no longer avenge them or save them as he once had.

​

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

Squad: Alpha Squad
Objective: Observation
Equipment: Project Xiphos Armor | Modular Tri-Blaster | Micro Light Shield | Bayonet | Comlink

Tiria's eye shifted away from the scope to peer around at Jalan as she inquired about forms of address. It was a short lived examination before her gaze shifted back down the length of the rifle. It was Tien's show -- his command. She wasn't hear to offer thoughts or give orders. Just keep an eye on a bunch of recruits and help out in subtle ways. Gross ones if one of the recruits tried getting away with something stupid. Tien was only one man, and depending on what he had in store sometimes you needed an extra set of eyes -- even if most Commanders strove for the 'they see everything' angle.

The tri-blaster was swung over Tiria's shoulder before it locked into place. Her dark eyes lifted to her fellow Master Sergeant as the privates dispersed. "Mixed bag," she replied when Tien asked her thoughts on the group. "Some have seen more battle than most might in a lifetime," Tiria turned her head slightly in King's direction, "while others..." The Master Sergeant's eyes shifted in Jalan's direction once more. "They're eager enough. Only time and trials will tell if they have the unbreakable will needed to be the first to walk into Hell, and the last to leave."

Jalan had garnered Tiria's attention since the group assembled. The Hive knew her backstory was an odd fit for the Dauntless. 'Damn peculiar' in fact. Much like Reinhart's own curious state, but Jalan's more so. Some involvement with the Witches. Still, Tiria was willing to see the young woman in action and figure out where her 'special' talents might fit or if they'd introduce a problem to unit cohesion. Same question had been posed of Tiria, but then she didn't use "The Force" like they claimed. Maybe the Hive conferred benefits others didn't get, but Tiria didn't fling people around a battlefield with a gesture or strike them dead with lightning. Far as she was concern, she was a soldier.

Some day Tiria would have greater authority and access to intelligence needed to find the creature that'd sought to exterminate her -- rather, the progenitor of the Hive whose shell remain secreted away. Then, once they were found, all these people and hardware would deliver a glorious retribution. They were patient, however. One battle at a time. One war at a time. There was no need to rush because a vessel could perish, but she -- they -- would remain.

Even so, losing Tiria Reinhart would be a blow to their present progress. Many other vessels they had Joined to the Hive weren't so well positioned or capable. Their intellect or access had been of value, but few rose in stature. The upper echelons of the Confederacy were full of Force sensitives and evidently they could sense the Hive's vessels by the thread connecting them. As they'd discovered Tiria herself. Fortunately, the Dauntless hadn't cast her out. She like to think it was a mutually beneficial arrangement. After all, her reaction time or battlefield command was exceptional when additional vessels were carefully positioned as overwatch. The more eyes and ears on the ground the better.

Tag: Tien Ulinesque | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Udrid | Captain King | Saram Kote | Jalan Riyadosh | Subject 82 Snow

 

[Jalan Riyadosh]

Objective: Down to Business
Time: 0800
Equipment: Training Uniform
Tags: | Tegan Farron | Eva Winburn | Captain King | Saram Kote | Udrid | Subject 82 Snow | Tien Ulinesque |

Her question, sufficiently answered, meant she asked nothing else. She listened though, and listened well. The mention of gear being brought made her blink, having left it behind. Train of thought behind it seeming to have failed her given that a bag at her feet seemed an ill introductory procedure. In light of the statement for preparedness however steeled her for the next circumstance that required the groups rapid departure.

She kept her features neutral and bland as she moved with alacrity to the hover craft and packed inside. Being as she had no bag, she organized the entry while another helped with the bags. She stepped in before Udrid but did not linger in the entry before quickly seating herself. Her mind organized the names of those around her to faces, her own form of knowing people given the rather brisk meet and greet. She was silent for the trip, unless spoken to directly.