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Topic:  ARC: A New Beginning
Rizzit
ComNet Sultan
 
Rizzit
 
[VE-ARMY] General
[VE-VEHC] General*
 
Post Number:  2792
Total Posts:  2943
Joined:  Mar 2002
Status:  Offline
  ARC: A New Beginning
March 7, 2010 4:37:42 PM    View the profile of Rizzit 
OOC:
Congratulations to those of you ARC members that have been selected! Your story is up, but your ARC Lead will be going a little more in-depth as to how you were chosen (which is why this post is so brief). Therefore, please wait for her okay to go ahead and post.
It had not even been two weeks since the bulk of the Stormtrooper Corps had been withdrawn from Arkania. Most of the primary squads had already completed a mission after the withdrawal and were about to set their sights on some other mission that they would soon be assigned if they had not been already. For the primary squads, the mission was over. As Prefect of the Army, General Rizzit needed his best squads for more important missions rather than routine sweeps of a conquered planet. The process was going smoothly for the most part, and within a few weeks the process of rotating Stormtrooper Corps personnel off planet (to be replaced with Security Corps personnel) could begin….
…as soon as this situation was dealt with that is. There was a knock on the door. As if in response to the knock, Rizzit felt a shifting behind his chair.

“Good to see we’re keeping you on your toes Zach.” Rizzit commented with a smirk. As usual Zach responded with silence. Sometimes, it drove Rizzit insane, but he knew that Zach was just trying to be professional.

“You can come in.” Rizzit called when Sergeant First Class Whiskey entered the room.

“You wished to see me General?” she asked.

“Yes. Come in. Have a seat.”

The Sergeant did as she was instructed. Acting on a feeling she would be here for a while, she also made herself comfortable.

“I take it things are settling well for you after Arkania?” A solemn nod gave Rizzit his answer. “Well, unfortunately I am going to need to send you back there. You see, riots are breaking out down there which is to be suspected, but intelligence feels that the New Republic may be among the rioters trying to stir up a revolution down there.  While this is not a surprise, it is not our only problem. We have personnel turning up missing. No bodies. No previous conflicts.  NOTHING! Just the lack of soldiers on planet. My gut tells me these two are related.”

This was when the Sergeant spoke up. “With all due respect sir, what does any of this have to do with me? I was just a trooper down on planet.”

“A trooper that showed exceptional potential down on planet you mean?” Rizzit corrected. “I need you to organize a team of five other members to head on planet. Maybe while you’re there you can straighten out our forces that are down there. You are promoted to ARC Lead. Congratulations! I need you to investigate the situations down there and bring back any and all intelligence on the matter you can. Furthermore, if you can “take care of” any problems down there without needing backup: you’re free to do so. I’ll expect you to be leaving shortly.”

Whiskey was shocked. She could barely make out the words to say “thank you”. She had expected a promotion in rank sure, but a task force? (and not just any task force, one of the most prestigious forces in the Army: the Advanced Recon Commandos) This was A LOT to take in at once.

“Just see to it that you don’t disappoint me and it will be thanks enough. I will send all the necessary details to your datapad shortly. Inform me once your team is assembled so I can give them the necessary authorization. Good luck!”
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General Rizzit Blackheart
Prefect of the Army
PFT/GEN Rizzit/VEA/VE[OPE][OTH][EW1][RCoD][CRoM][CoH][OPA][SoA][SoS][SCP]
"Everything expressed truly from your heart and soul is as pure as gold in the minds of anyone who listens" --Rizzit
Havock
ComNet Member
 
Havock
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant First Class
 
Post Number:  526
Total Posts:  2413
Joined:  Feb 2009
Status:  Offline
  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 7, 2010 6:39:23 PM    View the profile of Havock 
Whiskey made her way through the surprisingly crowded corridors as she fiddled with her datapad containing trooper bios. She'd already spent well over three hours in the lounge trying to pick her
team of troopers, and all she had managed to do was give herself a headache.

Arkania again? Great. I didn't have enough of that fracking frozen forest the first time we were there.

The door to her new quarters in the ARC barracks swooshed open. Her nose was back in the datapad and she didn't notice her trunk of weapons which was left in the dead center of the room. "Ouch,
stupid service droids. Just leave stuff in the middle of the room." She rubbed her shin where she would soon have a bruise to add to her collection.

Whiskey tossed the datapad onto her empty bunk and moved the trunk to its final destination. Just for fun she flipped open the top and peered in at the impressive display of weaponry. She always liked to have a nice variety of blasters at her disposal and seemed to favor pistols to rifles when it came down to it. She smiled at her DT-57's, those always were her favorites for missions. She would rather have two pistols than a rifle any day.

Glancing over to the locker, her uniforms were all in their place and she had to smirk at her new Kerberos Armor. Looking around the room one final time she gave up on procrastinating and sat at her
terminal to make her final decisions. In all truth she had already made her decisions in the lounge, now all that was left was to send out the messages so they all knew about their new assignments.

Callsigns were more important then names from here on out they would operate as a quick, strategic, offensive force that had little time for getting to know each other. Whiskey picked five troopers that had stood out in their squads. All of them excelled at not only their jobs but working as a team as well. Jericho was a slicer, well not just any slicer he was considered the best in the army. Jester
similarly was considered an excellent medic, and her callsign made Whiskey smile since it was shared by her old squad name. Wildcat was a damn fine fighter and fairly good at stealth, a skill that might come in handy. Gecko was a decent pilot but also had knowledge of some of the heavier weapons and explosives, the guy also had a good sense of humor something the group could use more of. Finally there was Target. Well every group needed someone skilled at being a distraction.

===========================================
To: SGT Jester, SGT Wildcat, GSG Gecko, CPL Target, SFC Jericho
From: SFC Whiskey
===========================================

Congratulations! You are being contacted because you have
been chosen to join the Advanced Recon Commandos (ARC)
for their next mission (and continued service thereafter). Being
in ARC is an honor and a privilege but also a duty. You are
ordered to immediately move to ARC barracks and report
tomorrow at 1700 for squad briefing.

Sergeant First Class Whiskey
ARC Theta Lead
============================================

She pushed the buttons and watched as the message disappeared into cyberspace to its recipients. It was only a matter of time before the troopers started to arrive from their respective squads, Whiskey decided it was as good of time as any to get her bunk together and rest until that happened. She never really liked speaking in front of a group and now she had to address some of the most respected troopers in the army and manage not to make an ass of herself. This should be interesting.

Whiskey joined the army when she was eighteen, it was better than any place she had been living. She didn't know her parents or where she came from, the only clue was a faded tattoo on her right wrist which now only served as a frustration to her. For as far back as she could remember she had lived in a varied collection of orphanages. She was not an easy child to look after, causing the nurses nothing but headaches. She found her inability to follow directions as a child amusing, but it did get her into a fair share of trouble. At least she had become quite adept at escaping from rooms, chairs and jails when necessary. It also made Whiskey independent and kinda a loner. The one thing that amused her was that growing up she was never more than an anonymous face but since joining the army people constantly were mistaking her for someone else. Usually it was just the, "you look so familiar" but sometimes they mistook her for a trooper in RAIDERS squad. Which was funny since Whiskey had never been in RAIDERS, lots of other squads, most recently Jester, but never RAIDERS.

She sighed and ran a hand through her blonde hair. She really did need to rest if she was going to manage this briefing. The one thing she was definitely not good at was sleeping, she had the strangest nightmares.

After almost an hour of unsuccessful attempts at resting, Whiskey gave up and made her way to the ARC common room. She decided to sit in a semi-comfortable chair and wait for the rest of the squad to arrive.


OOC:
Go for it, once everyone has posted I'll post the briefing and we'll be on our way.
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
Sergeant First Class || ARC Lead
SL||SFC HAVOCK||2SQD||1PLT||1COM||1BAT||1RGT||VEA||VE [ESC09] {RES} [HoTC]
ARC1||WHISKEY||ARC TEAM THETA||VE
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Zeshaun
ComNet Member
 
Zeshaun
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
 
Post Number:  825
Total Posts:  896
Joined:  Oct 2008
Status:  Offline
  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 7, 2010 7:47:50 PM    View the profile of Zeshaun 
Gecko was at the bar, he usually was not at these sorts of places created for soldiers less professional than himself, but after the long mission on Arkania, he felt like he deserved a break. As he sipped on his drink and munched on a few bar nuts, his datapad beeped. He patted down his uniform until he found it in a pocket on the inside of the jacket. The message was from a trooper that he did not know, it was unusual for him to get any messages from anyone outside of his squad, and he rarely socialized outside his comfort zone even though he did pride himself on his humor. After quickly reading the message, he stared blankly at the datapad for a moment, took a sip of his drink and read it again to make sure he had not read it incorrectly.

“How about that, my hard work finally pays off.” Gecko mumbled to himself.

He put some credits on the table and left the bar, from there he went directly to his room to get his things and bring them to the ARC barracks where he would be spending a considerable amount of time. He packed his weapons in the only box he had, and his clothes went into a duffel bag he had stuffed under his bed. The last weapon his put into his bag was his most prized possession, the “iggy mod” M82G assault rifle. His own modifications to the weapons, paid out of his own pocket, have made it more powerful, gave it a higher rate of fire, and increased its range. Zeshaun patted it like a little child before packing it into the box and putting it outside of his room for the service droids to pick up and deliver.

Gecko switched off the lights to his room and locked it, checking it twice before leaving. He let out a sigh and suddenly felt nervous, almost like going into his first squad so very long ago. He walked down the surprisingly busy street with his large duffel bag, bumping into people as he tried to squeeze through the crowd. Following the directions of his datapad he arrived at the ARC barracks, it was not any different than his old one, and quite honestly, he was disappointed. He had heard such good things about the ARC squad that he almost expected them to live in a palace suited for members of the High Council. He read the message one more time to make sure he had not come to the wrong place but then one line suddenly caught his eye.

“Immediately move to ARC barracks and report tomorrow at 1700 for squad briefing.”

Dammit Gecko had completely missed the last part of the message, he had been so excited that when he saw the phrase ‘immediately move’ he jumped up to pack. He shook his head in disbelief after packing everything, there was no way he could go home and get a good night’s rest. He had way too much energy and it was already quite dark. what the hell Gecko walked up to the door and swiped his ID, the door opened. The room was dark and it seemed that there was no one else in the barracks. Gecko made himself at home, putting his bag in the corner and moving his box of weapons along with it.

“Might as well go to bed for the night.” He said to himself, looking around the dark room.

Gecko slowly felt his way to a doorway and went into the bedroom, all the bunks were empty in the room so he picked the one closest to the door. He suddenly felt like all the energy was gone, he rolled onto his bed and took a deep breath before drifting off into a soft sleep, images of his future missions flashing through his mind, he smiled as he dreamt of the exciting new adventures he will go on during his time in ARC.
Gunnery Sergeant Zeshaun
TRP/GSG Zeshaun/3SQD/1PLT/COM/REG/BAT//VEA/VE[LoR][ES1][IH][EW1][DCE][CCA][SC]{RES}[AoT][EW1][ESC09]
YFC
Always a Paladin on the inside
When staring in the face of death, we see our reflection.
http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Zeshaun
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[This message has been edited by Zeshaun (edited March 7, 2010 7:52:59 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Zeshaun (edited March 8, 2010 4:34:38 PM)]
Ron
ComNet Member
 
Ron
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant First Class
 
Post Number:  866
Total Posts:  1215
Joined:  Apr 2008
Status:  Offline
  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 7, 2010 10:03:40 PM    View the profile of Ron 
Smoke curled, billowed, and lazily hazed around giant monitors in the low lit room in which Jericho worked.  He was seated in a swivel chair in front of three massive screens; each of which were covered with notes and ripped pieces of paper that were taped onto the rims of the monitors, papers of reminders or cracks to codes or languages that Jericho used as a guide for his work.  Displayed on the monitors were hundreds of files that required decrypting, hacking, decoding, or translating- the standard requests that came in his line of work.

With dexterous fingers Jericho worked at them all, sometimes succeeding without trouble, sometimes puzzling over a file for hours, though there was rarely an instance when he came over a file that he couldn't figure out in a day or two.  He was the best man for the job.  He knew it, he hated it.

Jericho felt like a machine.  He had no past, no memory, no life that he knew of before only a few months before.  His first memory was waking up in a white room that resembled a medical bay, surrounded by men and women who seemed much too interested in his well being, despite the fact that there were others who were possibly dying or in much worse of a state than he was.  He wasn't even sickly, never was sick; in fact, he was the healthiest person he knew of despite the fact that he smoked cigars as much as a man breathes in a day.  His addiction was puzzling to him, and seemingly to his doctors as well, for his lungs were in perfect condition, even after the three months of his recollected consiousness.

Though his past was indeed, strangely irregular, it was the present that disturbed Jericho the most.  He hated sitting in front of screens all day, deciphering codes and decrypting files.  Jericho longed for something else, and was determined to get out of the desk job if it killed him.

Then, like an answer, he received a message on one of the monitors.  It was his appointment to a squad, and not any squad, but ARC Squad.  He had high hopes of joining a squad as a slicer, but this news was perfect.  He smiled slightly, something he never did, and proceeded to shut down the computers and monitors before him.  Someone else's problem now.  In the morning he would be a different man, and would finally be able to escape the dungeon in which he had been lanquishing for the past three months.

He packed up his few things, a battle-grade laptop, backdoor plugins, and other standard equipment items required for slicers in active duty.  He prepared to sleep, comforted with the fact that he was going to ARC in the morning.

Perhaps at last he could begin to discover who he was, and what he was meant to do.
SOVAKAS RON
SERGEANT FIRST CLASS | PIRATE CREWER | ARC 3

SL||SFC RON||3SQD||1PLT||1COM||1BAT||1REG||VEA||VE [WM][CCA][CoR][BC][CoZ][AS-1]{CT}
PCW||PIRATE RON||IRON VICTORY||OSK COMPANY
ARC3||JERICHO||ARC TEAM THETA||VE


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Brightstar
ComNet Member
 
Brightstar
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant
 
Post Number:  392
Total Posts:  710
Joined:  Jan 2007
Status:  Offline
  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 8, 2010 12:06:56 AM    View the profile of Brightstar 
Wildcat lounged on the lowest branch of the tree located outside her current barracks home. One leg dangled lazily off of the side of the branch. Though the new growth was enough to cast her into shadow, 'Cat was still quite visible to any passersby. Her flaming shoulder length was pulled back into a ponytail and her cerulean blue eyes watched everything.

To the average eye Wildcat appeared to be someone different. A member of the famed RAIDERS Squad. Never had she been a member of that esteemed squad but she had recently met someone from that squad. Someone she had known from a few years ago and never thought she'd see again. She grinned. It was no wonder that she had often been mistaken for SGT Brightstar, the two of them looked almost like sisters despite the fact that they had come from totally different worlds. They had also become fast friends and often shared combat techniques. One difference between them besides the minor physical differences, was the fact that Brightstar tended to be far more serious.

'Cat was a friendly sort, though in her love for the shadows, people had labeled her in the same category as Brightstar. She found that funny. Wildcat was also more muscular and lithe, a true cat from the wilds of Sulyin V. Wildcat's homeworld is an unknown planet to many as it is located deep in the Wild Space regions. But anyone from her planet could very well pass for a human born in any of the known systems of explored space.

Just at this moment she happened to be fiddling around with a piece of hollowed out wood. A music pipe from her homeworld. Below her on the ground she heard her datapad beep, a telltale sign that she was not on Sulyin V.

"Damn." She sighed as she came out of her daydream. Without hesitation she dropped from her branch and landed lightly on the ground beside her pack. Putting her pipe away into the pouch at her belt, she bent and retrieved her datapad and opened the message.

===========================================
To: SGT Jester, SGT Wildcat, GSG Gecko, CPL Target, SFC Jericho
From: SFC Whiskey
===========================================

Congratulations! You are being contacted because you have
been chosen to join the Advanced Recon Commandos (ARC)
for their next mission (and continued service thereafter). Being
in ARC is an honor and a privilege but also a duty. You are
ordered to immediately move to ARC barracks and report
tomorrow at 1700 for squad briefing.

Sergeant First Class Whiskey
ARC Theta Lead
============================================

'Cat's brows snapped together. ARC? I've been chosen for ARC? She thought dumbfounded. She sat heavily on the ground. Wow. I must have done something right.

It took the woman of 26 all of two minutes to recollect herself and head back inside to pack up her belongings for the move to the ARC barracks. She'd been waiting for a new path to open up for her. And now it has happened. In the back of her mind she could almost hear her mother's voice: "Go forth my daughter. Become who are meant to be, find your true path. Find your spirit. This is your time."

That had been almost six years ago. Now was the time for her to find that path. She smiled as she packed. It was her time now. The sun would soon rise on a new road and on it would be an adventure she could only imagine.
TRP/SGT Brightstar D'Jonoc/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1REG/VEA/VE[SRP][SCA][AS-2][ES1]{RES}[EW2]

"For your sake, I really hope that isn't a challenge."
Corvin
ComNet Member
 
Corvin
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
 
Post Number:  360
Total Posts:  818
Joined:  Jul 2009
Status:  Offline
  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 8, 2010 2:47:24 PM    View the profile of Corvin 
Sometimes, Target had bad dreams. Mostly, they involved voices, coming from all around him. All around him, there was nothing but blackness, a featureless void that seemed to stretch in all directions.

The voices never seemed to say the same thing twice, babbling streams of nonsense. Syllables and numbers, strung together without any sort of order or reason. Only a few words and phrases seemed to make any sense. Loyalty, duty, honour, Empire.

Occasionally, there were brief flashes, confused blurs that were gone as quickly as they appeared. Bubbles drifting up through blue-tinged liquid. Sterile light filtering down from above. His own reflection, distorted by a plane of curved glass. Rows of bacta tanks, each one with a blurred figure twitching inside. And a number, the same number every time.

GNDE 34. That was the only thing Target remembered clearly each time. It was a nonsense phrase; it didn't match anything Target had read or heard about. Still, it kept on coming up.

Target usually forgot the dreams when he woke up, only feeling a vague sense of unease, and that he'd overlooked something important. By the time he started cleaning his kit, or he arrived at the mission briefing, he'd usually forgotten all about it.

"Hey, Cor! Wake up!"

Target shook his head, knowing who was there before his eyes opened. The others would have used his callsign, and wouldn't have bothered calling.

The troopers of Sadris Squad tended to be a rather dour lot. Cautious and quiet, they were as loyal as any other squad, but tended not to take needless risks and were taciturn to the point of rudeness. Target was one of the exceptions. Geris was the other.

A Rodian, Geris was the only Sadris trooper without a callsign. Somewhat talkative, the green-skinned alien was the only trooper Target got along with, although their banter tended to annoy the other Sardis troopers.

Target opened his eyes.

"What is it, bug-eyes?"

With anyone else, that would have been an insult. With Geris, it was just part of their banter.

"Sarge wants to see you ASAP." The Rodian chuckled. "Probably wants a word about the walker incident."

Terget shook his head, quickly getting up from the bunk.

"Hey, it wasn't my fault!" he called as he walked out of the squad barracks.

Geris snorted, turning to his locker.

====

Sergeant Herac didn't look up. In the darkened office, he blended in almost perfectly with his surroundings. There was a line of light bisecting his desk, drifting down from a gap in the shutters.

If Target read two-credit holothrillers, he'd have found the similarities interesting. As it was, he stood in front of the polished desk, waiting for Herac to speak.

"Target." Herac said at last, his face illuminated by flickering light from the datapads stacked across his desk.

Target nodded, saluting smartly.

""Reported as ordered, sir."

"You're late." the squad leader said flatly.

"I'm sorry, sir. I came as soon as I could. You wanted to see me?"

Target heard what could have been a sigh of irritation, but Herac didn't reply, instead pushing a datapad across his desk.

"This arrived for you ten minutes ago."

Target picked it up cautiously, turning it around. There was a beep as the device scanned his fingerprints, and the message opened. It was short and to the point.

Congratulations! You are being contacted because you have
been chosen to join the Advanced Recon Commandos (ARC)
for their next mission (and continued service thereafter). Being
in ARC is an honor and a privilege but also a duty. You are
ordered to immediately move to ARC barracks and report
tomorrow at 1700 for squad briefing.

Sergeant First Class Whiskey
ARC Theta Lead


Herac waited for Target to look up.

"Well, Corporal?"

Target thought for a moment.

"It's an honour, sir. I have to say though, I'm surprised that they'd choose me."

"As am I." Herac said, as toneless as ever. "I suggest you leave straight away."

He didn't wish him luck.

"Sir." Target saluted again, about-faced and walked out. Herac, and indeed most of the other troopers, had never disguised their contempt for him, so it was hardly unexpected. About the only one who'd be sorry to see him go would be Geris.

Target had his orders, and he would follow them. It wasn't as though he would be leaving anything he'd miss after all.

OOC:
So Target is a GeNode clone (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/GeNode) of Corvin. He thinks he is Corvin and has the same basic backstory, up to squad assignment. Everything at Nexu Squad and after, didn't happen to him.
ETRP/CPL Corvin/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE[ESC09][AoT][IH][HotC]
~BLACKJACK~
*Vehicle Pilot*
Read the bloody manual!
"Never believe a rumour of my demise. I have as many lives as a cat. Also as many teeth, as many claws, and the same cheery, cooperative disposition." Peter Wiggin, Xenocide
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"The Committee has also voted to change the name of the position, simply because no one liked the fact that its accronym spelled out Noo. "
[This message has been edited by Corvin (edited March 8, 2010 2:56:46 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Corvin (edited March 8, 2010 3:33:56 PM)]
Zeshaun
ComNet Member
 
Zeshaun
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
 
Post Number:  826
Total Posts:  896
Joined:  Oct 2008
Status:  Offline
  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 8, 2010 6:49:35 PM    View the profile of Zeshaun 
Gecko woke up early despite going to bed rather late the night before, although he felt very well rested. He got up and immediately strapped his knife to his boot and put on his uniform jacket. He had slept in his pants so they were a bit wrinkled but he quickly patted them down to give the illusion that they were cleaner than they actually were. When he stepped outside the doorway to his new room he immediately saw a woman sitting on the couch, presumably waiting for people to arrive. He wasn’t sure who he was but if she was sitting in the barracks she must have been part of the ARC.  He casually walked up to her and greeted her.

“Name’s Gecko, you part of ARC too?”

The young women turned toward him looking a bit stressed, “I’m Sergeant First Class Whiskey, and I’ll be your squad leader here in ARC.”

Gecko spent a second to take in the information before realizing what she had just said. He quickly snapped to attention and threw a salute, “Gunnery Sergeant Gecko ma’am, pleasure to be working under you.”

Whiskey waved her hand, “You don’t need to be so formal here.”

Gecko slackened and nodded. He turned his attention to his things in the corner of the room, he grabbed his bag and then began to drag his box toward his room. He quickly threw his bag onto his bed and slid the box under his bed but not before he grabbed his favorite machine pistol, holstered it underneath his jacket and then put his special rifle across his pillow. He observed the setup of his bed gave a satisfactory nod to no one in particular and then returned to the main room. When he reentered the main room, Whiskey was talking to a tall man, well built but only seen by the well trained eye. The man looked up as Gecko walked into the room, he could tell that he was being examined. The man straightened up and then walked over to Gecko.

“My name is Jericho, looks like we will be working together in this squad.” He extended a hand.

Gecko extended his own hand and shook. “I’m Gecko, I look forward to it.”

The two of them turned their heads as another person came through the doors. With bright red hair and stunning blue eyes a woman walked in with a hint of a smile on her lips. Gecko could tell that she was more of the free going types, and decided he wanted to get to know her better. He felt new urges to chase after human women even though his reptilian instincts have never driven him to feel any romantic feelings for anyone other than his own kind before, but when a trandoshan is in the army, other trandoshans, especially females, were hard to come by.

Gecko introduced himself. “Gecko, looks like we’re squad mates for a while.”

The young women looked him up and down, and then with a coy smile replied, “I’m Wildcat, nice to meet you.”

Gecko offered his help with her bags but she denied his help, carrying her luggage by herself to her own room. He was impressed by the independence that Wildcat had. There was a brief moment of time when people stopped coming in. They were only waiting on a few others but Gecko took the time to get to know the people that he would have to cooperate with and trust his life with.

OOC:
Bright, if i did something ooc of your character please let me know, i will change it immediately.
Gunnery Sergeant Zeshaun
TRP/GSG Zeshaun/3SQD/1PLT/COM/REG/BAT//VEA/VE[LoR][ES1][IH][EW1][DCE][CCA][SC]{RES}[AoT][EW1][ESC09]
Always a Paladin on the inside

http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Zeshaun
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YFC
[This message has been edited by Zeshaun (edited March 8, 2010 6:53:36 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Zeshaun (edited March 8, 2010 7:59:32 PM)]
Havock
ComNet Member
 
Havock
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant First Class
 
Post Number:  528
Total Posts:  2413
Joined:  Feb 2009
Status:  Offline
  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 9, 2010 10:04:47 PM    View the profile of Havock 
The small group of commandos sat in the cream colored briefing room. Whiskey often wondered if they made the walls so plain just so that the only thing that could possibly be interesting was the
commanding officer at the front.

A blond-haired woman came walking in the room after everyone else was seated. She walked up to the front where Whiskey was perched on the steps leading to the podium she had no intention of using.

"Sorry I'm late ma'am."

Whiskey didn't look up, with only three women in the task force it didn't take a genus to sort out who was standing in front of her. "Jester right?" The young medic nodded. "Whiskey, call me anything similar to that but not ma'am. Ma'am makes me feel like someones grandmother."

"Got it."

The group seemed to be getting to know each other, which was a good thing that they at least were on speaking terms before the mission started. Gecko must have said something funny, both he and Wildcat burst out laughing so suddenly it drew the attention of a few of the troopers.

"Alright lets get started." Whiskey jumped to her feet and stood in front of the podium in the briefing room that was obviously designed for a larger crowd than what it contained.

"Looks like we are heading back to Arkania. Keep your groaning to yourself Target. Looks like some civil unrest has been breaking out in the capital city, which isn't a big surprise. Our job is to determine who is behind the riots that keep popping up all over the city, could be New Republic. And who can blame them, we did screw up one of their major trade routes by taking the planet." A few slight chuckles broke out in the room.

"Sounds like NR crap to me." Jericho muttered with a cig in his mouth.

"Well its not the only crap we need to deal with. Looks like some of our troops on the ground have been disappearing for no reason. The numbers don't pan out for deserters, so something may be up. And hey if we're lucky the two may be related and we can finish up and pray our next assignment is at a tropical beach." She looked around the room making sure there were no questions. "Okay, we need to get a move on. So you have one hour to gather your gear and meet at the transport in the hangar.
Personal weapons are fine, but we all will be in our Kerberos armor on the mission. Dismissed."

-----~~~~-----

Whiskey stood leaning against the open hatch of the Mu2i Shuttle as she waited for the others to arrive. Her armor was on board but she kept her new Acklay assault rifle and twin DT-57 pistols close at hand more out of habit than anything else. Her similarly new ARC multiweapon was in her pocket, but she kept her trusty, old fashioned combat knife in her left calf holster. She liked keeping the weapons that had saved her life time and time again, even though new toys were always fun to play with.



OOC:
Sorry, i know its short. Head to the shuttle and away we go. The ride should take about a day to get there then we will be landing in the spaceport of the capital city. Carry on
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
Sergeant First Class || RAIDERS Squad Leader || ARC Lead
SL||SFC HAVOCK||2SQD||1PLT||1COM||1BAT||1RGT||VEA||VE [ESC09] {RES} [HoTC]
ARC1||WHISKEY||ARC TEAM THETA||VE
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Zeshaun
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Zeshaun
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 10, 2010 5:44:50 PM    View the profile of Zeshaun 
Gecko had his armor strapped on, and headed out to the hangar. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to going back to Arkania, but the thrill of being part of ARC made it seem better than the first time. He already had his trusty special mod rifle and his submachine gun on hand and as he walked down the road he inspected his new multi weapon that came with the special armor for ARC. It was strange to have something so useful, the weapon nullified the need to carry around his knife and a few other of the tools he usually kept on hand. When he arrived at the hangar no one else was there, or so it seemed. The shuttle door was open and as he got closer he saw his squad leader standing on the ramp, without her armor on. He nodded a hello as he approached.

“Did I miss a memo?” Gecko asked.

“What do you mean?” Whiskey replied, not clear on what he was talking about.

Gecko clarified. “Were we supposed to not wear our armor on the shuttle or something?”

Whiskey shook her head. “Just a personal preference.”

Gecko had always worn his armor on shuttle rides, it had happened more than once that their shuttle had to have an emergency landing, and putting on your armor while your shuttle was going out of control was not fun. He felt awkward with his guns but seeing that Whiskey also had her guns made him a bit more comfortable. Not sure what he should do while he waited, he began fiddling with the base of his submachine gun. It had broken down into three pieces and he had been craving to work on it and put some of his own modifications to it.

He sat on a crate while he waited for the others, he recalled the day long flight they had to take to arrive at Arkania and groaned inside his head. He was not a big fan of flying in shuttles, he was more of a fighter person. He waited patiently for the others, wanting to get his first mission underway.


OOC:
sorry its so short, but there's only so much i can write about waiting
Gunnery Sergeant Zeshaun
TRP/GSG Zeshaun/3SQD/1PLT/COM/REG/BAT//VEA/VE[LoR][ES1][IH][EW1][DCE][CCA][SC]{RES}[AoT][EW1][ESC09]
Always a Paladin on the inside

http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Zeshaun
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Havock
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 15, 2010 4:34:24 PM    View the profile of Havock 

Arkania - Capital City
Field Office of Major Tara "Gold Lion" Oulith - Gold Company Commander


"What do you mean, there were casualties this time? I thought you had the southern section under control Sergeant." She threw the datapad across her desk, knocking off various map-related items in the process. Major Tara Oulith was not happy, and when she was unhappy it was a very bad idea to be locked in a room with her. Which is why Gunnery Sergeant Jason "Raven" Sykes was damn near the unluckiest man alive right now.

"Ma'am my squad had the area secure. We have been unable to determine where the attack originated from." Crimson Brawler Squad had been assigned the southern region of the Capital City on Arkania. The squads in Gold Company had been sent to the Capital City to subdue the last of the inhabitants after the rest of the major cities had been dealt with. The Capital City seemed to be the only one remaining that was having problems. Now the squad leader had been called in to his company commanders office for new orders, he began to wonder if he accidentally broke a mirror at some point which earned him this not-so-great honor.

It was bad enough that his squad had been turned into shield wielding, baton carrying, glorified riot suppression officers. It seemed that now he was to be in charge of missing persons as well and bloody crowd control. "Major, with all due respect, you want my men to go looking for missing troopers which probably have just gone AWOL. My men already have been working as MP's, which they were not trained for, last week we had three concussions from them accidentally hitting each other with the damn batons when lined up in riot formation."

"Are you done yet, Sergeant?" She motioned towards her chair with one of her stiff arms. The woman moved more like a droid than anyone Jason had ever seen. "If not, I'll sit down for the rest of your whining so at least I can avoid the sore feet that will go with my utterly bored ears." She made an exasperated sound. "I still don't understand why we can't just use our blaster rifles and be done with this icicle of a planet."

"Because it would be a massacre out there...ma'am." She raised her eyebrow at the man. She had to admire anyone who would be this bold with her. She didn't particularly like this behavior, but it was a nice change of pace to be challenged from time to time. "You take the guns out of the equation; you start using shields and riot batons as opposed to weapons."  Sykes hurriedly explained. "You stop the deaths, and you show you're trying to improve the country by taking on a more peaceful stance."

"My aren't you the junior diplomat."

=======

Mu2i Transport "Rowdy Friend"
ARC Team Theta in route to Arkania


"If you kick my chair again Target, I'm cutting your effing leg off."

"I'm not trying to kick the chair, I just want to put my legs up."

Whiskey rolled her eyes and stood quickly rounding the aisle to look at the average man with extremely short brown hair and blue eyes, he was smirking at her which was not a good idea given the mood she was in. "The warning stands Corporal."

She walked down the aisle towards the cockpit, it was as good of time as any to get a sit rep and find out their estimated arrival time in the Capital City.

Aryana Graves had been many things in her short life. She started off as a faceless woman in her memories daughter, then she was kidnapped and shortly after became a slave. That was the part of her life she would have rather forgotten, memory seemed to be the cruelest master of all. She escaped, went on the run, lived either in the streets or in orphanages when she got caught. Now she was a solider, at least she finally found something she seemed to be good at for a change.

Whiskey coughed as she passed Jericho. "Good grief man, how many of those cancer sticks have you smoked today?"

He muttered something and returned to his datapad. She smirked and simply shrugged before returned on her journey. The man didn't need a personality when he was that good at what he did.

"Sergeant, our status is the same as before. All systems normal, ETA...twenty minutes now."

"Well that's different then." She smirked.

"Aye, twenty is slightly less than thirty ma'am."

She scowled at the female pilot but couldn't blame her. Whiskey was nervous about the mission and since she refused to let anyone know that, she could only express her unease by becoming somewhat obsessive about the mission details. "Right, well, carry on then."

====

Arkania - Capital City
Field Office of Major Tara "Gold Lion" Oulith - Gold Company Commander


Sykes just loved being summoned to his company commanders field office twice in the same twenty four hours. Either she finally had decided to execute him, or she was starting to like him. Major Oulith seemed to be incapable of doing things "small". The building she choose to make her headquarters had been the office building of a technology corporation. The windows of the seven story building gleamed in the sun. Jason nodded to a few troopers who were huddled together next to a 2-M Tank that was resting in front of the over-sized building. The first few disappearances were almost expected, every campaign seemed to have its share of AWOLee's. The worried looks on the faces reflected the increasing number of missing, and unknown reasons for their disappearance.

Jason walked up the stairs since a damned combat engineer had accidentally blown out the motor on the lift. He wondered as he finally reached the top floor, why demo junkies always think explosives will solve any problem. The sound of breaking glass under his boot stopped Raven in his tracks. "What the frack?", he muttered under his breath.

Slowly he raised his eyes and saw that the door to the Major's office was slightly ajar, which prompted him to take his blaster pistol from the holster without much conscious thought. If she's in there, I'm gonna get shot at, I just know it. Major Oulith was pretty famous for her shoot first ask questions later method of negotiation. Which meant, if goons came in to kill or kidnap her she would not have made it easy. Jason found himself feeling kinda sorry for the fool that got assigned this job.

He pushed the door open keeping the pistol raised and pointing into the dimly lit room. A light flickered in the distance, but he was not able to open the door all the way. He chanced a glance down towards his feet to see what the obstruction was. Oulith's guard was laying unconscious on the floor. Jason wasn't a medic, but he could see the trooper's chest slowly rise and fall. He stepped over the prone figure and scanned the room. The desk was turned over on its side and flimsies were strewn about. Every step he took shifted the paper causing a crinkle sound to echo through the room.

Sykes circled the room twice then lowered his weapon and sighed. He pulled out his comlink and tried to raise th Major, hoping that she hadn't been present when the tornado blew through her office.

BEEP
BEEP
BEEP

Jason pushed a fallen drawer aside and found the commander's comlink orphaned on the floor. He grimaced and shut it off, fighting the urge to throw the device against the wall.

The platoon commander did answer his comlink, thankfully. The two men were still talking when Major Oulith's comlink "beeped" once again. Raven stared at the device for a long moment before tentatively answering it.

======================

"She was gone when you got here?" Whiskey adjusted the shoulder of her Kerberos armor and looked around the exceedingly messy room.

"Yes. I met with Major Oulith yesterday. She ordered my squad to investigate the string of missing troopers we've had lately. Today, I came to report what we found and...found this." Sykes explained as he passed in the room trying to avoid kicking the debris. "The riots have increased overnight and right now my team is under fire. This is the first time the bastards have used weapons on us."

Whiskey wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation. They knew they were dropping into a situation here, but things seemed to be much more out of control that she first imagined. "So what do you need us to do?"

"Find out what's happening to the troopers and find the Major - preferably in one piece. My team and the other squads can handle the riots for now, but we may need your help with that too at some point. I have one bit of intel that might help you." He punched some buttons and a holographic display came up. "We caught this on one of the holocamera's we set up in the city. You can see there, about ten armed civys coming from this alley. The catch is, there's nothing in that alley we searched it and I don't have a clue how they got there."

Whiskey uploaded the data to her pad and shrugged. "As good of place as any to start." She looked at the map and quickly turned back just before she reached the door. "Did you check the sewers in that alley by any chance?"

"Sewers...no, I didn't think they would be...that would make a lot of sense actually."

"Great, I just love the smell of sewers in the morning."


OOC:
head for the alley and the sewers. we are looking for the major, and the other troopers would be nice to find too. there should be some militia type soldiers set up in t he sewers to annoy the crap out of the ve troops and now us. have fun. 
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
Sergeant First Class || RAIDERS Squad Leader || ARC Lead
SL||SFC HAVOCK||2SQD||1PLT||1COM||1BAT||1RGT||VEA||VE [ESC09] {RES} [HoTC]
ARC1||WHISKEY||ARC TEAM THETA||VE
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Zeshaun
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Zeshaun
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 15, 2010 8:06:46 PM    View the profile of Zeshaun 
Gecko had been excited about the mission but when he heard he had to crawl around in the sewers, his heart sank. If it was one place that he hated, it was the sewers, they smelled, were cramped, and dark. He also would not get to use grenades which were some of his personal favorites. He holstered his rifle as they walked down the alley way, the morning was still young, and not many people were out and about the street. People did not usually stroll about the street lately though because of the riots and soldiers patrolling the streets. The entrance to the sewers was just a small hole in the ground; Gecko groaned and quickly assembled the stock and silencer on his sub machine gun. The sewers were dark, as expected, even during the day, and the smell made Gecko cringe. The squad flipped on their flashlights and began strolling down the dark tunnels.

“Weren’t we supposed to meet someone in here?” Jericho said.

Whiskey just quieted him and Jericho mumbled to himself. Gecko kept his eyes and ears pealed, he didn’t want to get stuck off guard in a sewer. As if on cue, they reached an intersection simultaneously with a small group of militia. The two groups dumbly stared at each other for a moment before they all realized what was happening.

“Fire!” Whiskey shouted.

Arc did not have to be told twice, the front few dropped to their knees and within seconds Arc had managed to form into a deadly formation and the militia was all dead before they could even recover. Unfortunately the quick encounter caused them to create a ringing in the tunnels. The ringing was followed by the sound of footsteps sloshing through water, and none of the Arc members were moving.

“That doesn’t sound like fun.”  Target shifted and reloaded his weapon.

“What are you talking about, sounds better than a keg of the best Correllian ale.” Wildcat said with a sly smile.

Gecko smiled, he felt the same. There were five separate tunnels, including the one they had come through, that all converged on this small intersection.

“Everyone spread out, I don’t want a single tunnel uncovered, we could be facing 5 men or two squads don’t underestimate them.” Whiskey ordered quickly, getting everyone in place.

Gecko set himself in place and waited for the footsteps to arrive, the tunnel he was watching curved and he could not see anyone coming until they were nearly on top of him. I’m having too much fun He thought as a trace of a smile crept up on his face as he saw a shadow about to round the corner.

OOC:
So I set us up with an encounter, I didn't really have a certain number in mind, but next poster can determine that.
Gunnery Sergeant Zeshaun
TRP/GSG Zeshaun/3SQD/1PLT/COM/REG/BAT//VEA/VE[LoR][ES1][IH][EW1][DCE][CCA][SC]{RES}[AoT][EW1][ESC09]
Always a Paladin on the inside

http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Zeshaun
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Brightstar
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Brightstar
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 16, 2010 12:02:50 AM    View the profile of Brightstar 
Wildcat grinned wolfishly as she took the tunnel to the right of Whiskey. On her own right was Target. Behind her guarding the tunnel directly at her back was Gecko and Jericho was too his right. Jester seemed to have been lucky enough to get stuck somewhere in the middle. 'Cat had chosen her tunnel because it was sunk in shadows and the water was most shallow from her view point. Like any other cat she despised getting wet.

As much as she was hating this at the moment, Wildcat kept thinking about something one of her friends had told her. "I don't like being wet either, but in the end it doesn't matter whether you're wet or not. All that matters is that you do the job you're there to do and you get it done to the best of your ability. I promise you'll dry off. You sure as hell are not sugar you won't melt."

'Cat smiled inwardly. She'd truly and honestly never met anyone like Brightstar D'Jonoc before her time here in the army, but she was glad for the friendship. Besides she could also rub it in the other woman's face that she'd been told that by her own squad leader at one point or another.

Wildcat's tunnel seemed to purr at her. For a moment she was slightly taken aback. But that lasted all of a few moments before she dropped to her knee and raised her rifle. "Incoming." She called to the rest of her squad. Not that they needed the warning. As 'Cat had expected they used a pincer attack. Coming at them from more than one tunnel. Hers and Jericho's.

Having been born with excellent low-light vision, Wildcat had no use or desire for another light source. As soon as she saw that silhouette she pulled the trigger. A red beam lanced out and struck that shadowy form square in the chest and more red beams followed as more shadows appeared in her line of sight.

Unfortunately for 'Cat, some of them decided to shoot back. And they were using projectile weapons. "Damn it!" She cursed and called behind her to Gecko. "Geck! Crossfire at your six! I'm not going to stand in front of them so you'd best move your scaly hide." 'Cat stood her ground as she always did but she could feel some of those shots actually dig into her armor.

She'd completely forgotten about Jester till the woman's weapon fire at her ear clued the lithe woman into her presence. "Need a hand little kitty?" The medic asked. Wildcat could imagine a strained smile on the other woman's face.

'Cat focused after that, keeping her ears on the weapons in front of her. When the hostile fire began to die away in her tunnel she set her own weapon down quietly and stealthily withdrew the knives she had stowed in her armor at key points. She glanced back up at Jester and cocked her head like a cat would. "This kitty has claws." She said and headed into the tunnel. It was just around a turn in the tunnel that she jumped them reloading their weapons and regrouping. Before they knew it, it was all over.

"Sorry ladies and gentlemen." She breathed with a grin. "But this is my tunnel now." By the time she returned to the mouth of her tunnel again all other fire had died down. She looked over at Whiskey as she bent to grab her blaster rifle. "I counted seven in my tunnel. I'm happy to report they are all dead as......doornails I think is what you people call them."
TRP/SGT Brightstar D'Jonoc/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1REG/VEA/VE[SRP][SCA][AS-2][ES1]{RES}[EW2]

"For your sake, I really hope that isn't a challenge."


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Corvin
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Corvin
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 17, 2010 3:29:24 PM    View the profile of Corvin 
Sergeant Herac had once compared Target to a reek: both weren't very bright, stubborn, and inclined to charge directly towards the enemy without considering all the options. It had been one of the few times he'd heard the man speak more than a phrase at a time.

To be honest, Target really couldn't fault anything in the man's analysis, except maybe the "not very bright" bit. He might not be Intelligence material, but he didn't consider himself stupid.

Coincidentally, neither did the majority of idiots.

"Two contacts." Target said gleefully into his comlink, raising his rifle as he did so. The half-submerged figures were hard to make out in the darkness, even with the helmet's sensors, but unmistakable.

"Taking them out now."

With that, he charged down the tunnel, yelling as he did so.

"For the Empire!"

Whatever the Arkanians had been expecting, it wasn't that. To their credit, however, they reacted almost instantly, rising from the water and bringing up their weapons.

Target grinned and squeezed his BC-10 rifle's trigger. There was a high-pitched whine, and one of the miltiamen fell back with a neat, fist-sized hole punched through his chest. The water at Corvin's feet took on a reddish tinge.

Then something hit him in the side of the head with great force. His HUD flickered and greyed as he slumped against the wall. Another impact to the chestplate, then a third. Too heavy to be slug rounds.

There were more splashes, and shouted orders. Men in ragged uniforms and wearing breath masks, four or five or them. They ignored the downed trooper, instead running towards the sound of blasterfire echoing from the intersection.

Shaking off his dizziness, Target raised his rifle and fired. 

There was a thump, and one of the militamen fell as the energy bolts caught him in the backpack, burning through it and the man's chest.

Target fired again and again, downing two more of the militia troopers with precise bursts. By this time the Arkanians were starting to turn back, already bringing their weapons to bear. 

A bolt flew through the air, impacting against the helmet of the only trooper still wearing what looked like standard issue militia armour. The Arkanian fell in a cloud of vaporized blood and plastoid, the side of his helmet melting away around the point of impact.

The other two froze for a moment, confused. For all the skills they'd been forced to learn to survive, the remaining militia were still undertrained. Target took advantage of the moment to aim and fire, gutting another Arkanian and sending the corpse splashing into the murky water.

Standing at the mouth of the side tunnel, Jester sighted and fired again, this time downing a trooper holding what looked like a longblaster. The weapon dropped from the man's twitching hands, sinking into the water and vanishing from sight.

Target blinked, coming to a realization. The weapon the now-dead trooper had been holding didn't just look like a longblaster, it was a longblaster. A Vast Imperial DLT-20A, to be precise.

That kind of equipment was issued exclusively to proper Imperial tr
oops such as stormtroopers and the more specialized Army squads, and certainly wouldn't be issued to militiamen. If the renegades had them...

Target frowned, dropping to one knee and fishing the weapon out of the muck with the hand not holding his carbine. Sure enough, there was an Imperial star engraved into the right side of the weapon.

A quick glance at the bodies of the other troopers revealed that two of them had been wielding Army-issue E-11s, while a third was still holding a blast cannon.

The others had evidently dispatched the remaining Arkanians, judging by the sudden silence. Glancing cautiously down the corridor, half-expecting more troopers to appear, the Corporal got back up, frowning under his helmet.

"Sergeant Whiskey, you might want to see this..."
ETRP/CPL Corvin/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE[ESC09][AoT][IH][HotC]
~BLACKJACK~
*Vehicle Pilot*
Read the bloody manual!
"Never believe a rumour of my demise. I have as many lives as a cat. Also as many teeth, as many claws, and the same cheery, cooperative disposition." Peter Wiggin, Xenocide
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"The Committee has also voted to change the name of the position, simply because no one liked the fact that its accronym spelled out Noo. "
Zeshaun
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Zeshaun
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 17, 2010 5:02:42 PM    View the profile of Zeshaun 
There are always the brave ones Gecko thought to himself as he reloaded his gun. The first few came rushing around the corner, but they were no match for an automatic weapon in the tiny tunnels. Gecko merely pulled the trigger and the two militia men fell into the water, either dead or injured and would most likely drown in the sewage since they had fallen face down into the stream. The others that were in the tunnel remained behind the curve, probably afraid for their lives now that they had seen what had happened to their fellow soldiers. He felt a sense of sudden empowerment as he realized that he was facing a group of inexperienced militia who would rather not be here.  He chose to give them an option.

“If you want to give up, I will let you surrender to, we can send you back to our prisons, and they aren’t as bad as you think.”

There was no response for a moment, but before Gecko was about to speak again, a reply came back in a wavering voice.

“Can you promise that you won’t kill us?”

Gecko was surprised at how young the voices sounded. He was not serious when he first gave them the offer but hearing the sound of such young kids made him think twice about it. Can’t get soft on ‘em just cause they are kids, they made their own decisions. A sudden shout from a very deep and gruff voice startled Gecko and he nearly shot blindly down the tunnel. The voice was shouting something about honor and death. Some shadows shifted and then a few bodies hurled themselves around the corner and down toward Gecko letting out a half hearted war cry.

Gecko cringed as he saw the light from his flashlight shine on the faces of the militia men. From what Gecko could tell, he had to be barely legal age to join the military and he had a look on his face that was a mix between extreme fear and the look someone gets when they are about to cry. Gecko hesitated for a moment before pulling the trigger, the flash of his muzzle lit up the cramped tunnel and the bodies fell like dominoes. Gecko stood from his kneeling position shaking his head, he slowly crept down the tunnel to make sure there were no survivors. When he turned the corner he saw an older man lying on the ground, he was seemed scared out of his mind and he clutched his leg. His leg was nearly torn off, the blood flowed from his wounds into the water as the man tried to crawl away. Gecko slowly walked toward the soldier, setting his weapon to single shot. He caught up to the injured man fairly quickly and placed the gun to the back of his head.

“Please don’t, I’ll give you anything, my family is filthy rich.”

Gecko recognized the voice as the one that was giving the “pep” talk and probably forced the younger soldiers to charge. Without a second thought he pulled the trigger and the man stopped moving and fell limp into the water. He holstered his gun and walked back out to the tunnel. The action had died down and he saw Wildcat coming from the tunnel opposite his, and he also noticed that Target was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Target?” Gecko asked, looking around the ground hoping he wouldn’t find him lying in the water.

Before anyone answered his voice came echoing down the tunnel where he was fighting. "Sergeant Whiskey, you might want to see this..."
Gunnery Sergeant Zeshaun
TRP/GSG Zeshaun/3SQD/1PLT/COM/REG/BAT//VEA/VE[LoR][ES1][IH][EW1][DCE][CCA][SC]{RES}[AoT][EW1][ESC09]
Always a Paladin on the inside

http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Zeshaun
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Havock
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Havock
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 17, 2010 7:16:54 PM    View the profile of Havock 
The sound of water trickling seemed so loud after the deafening blaster fire that had just occurred. Every tunnel branching out from the junction the ARC team defended had militia running towards them, blaster's before brains, save the one Whiskey was currently standing in. She could hear Target behind her in the adjacent tunnel but she didn't move. She waited, knelt down against the sewer wall listening to the water drip and settle around her.

Her HUD showed nothing of interest, which either meant the tunnel was useless and lead nowhere, or the people were simply farther down the tunnel and protecting something even more important. With a growl she pulled up her rifle with more force than necessary for its weight and walked back to the group assembled in the junction.

"Took you long enough Sarge." Target was holding an old DLT-20A blaster rifle in his hands.

She raised her eyebrow in the helmet. "Feeling nostalgic there Targ. Whats with the museum piece?"

"Its not really that old, but look it has our insignia on it." He pointed to the imperial star engraved on its side. The blaster had once belonged to an imperial trooper that much was for sure, but looking at the now quiet faces of the dead the one thing that was over-powerfully evident was their age. Well over a dozen militia attacked the team and she could only find one that looked over twenty. Which could only mean one thing.

"Its not their rifles. They found that or bought it on the black market."

Wildcat was leaning on the wall to her right in an almost unnaturally graceful manner given the circumstances. "Black market? You think these guys have contacts?"

"That's doubtful." Jericho's voice was murmured due to the cigarette he was attempting to light as he spoke. "Its more likey they have a contact upstairs that's buying them and dropping them down here like life day presents." He took a long drag and the smoke filled her optical sensors as she thought about the implication.

"Gecko...didn't you kill an old timer down your tunnel?"

The trandoshan stepped forward, she could almost imagine his solemn gray eyes trying to sort out where she was going with this. "Yes."

"Good." Before the last sound could come out of her mouth her boots were already sloshing in the shallow water towards the tunnel Gecko had been in. She knelt down and started to go through the pockets on the clothes of what was left of the man. Once that proved fruitless she started to feel around on the mucky floor.

"Umm boss? What are you doing?" The tone in Jester's voice was not an unfamiliar one to Whiskey. That was the voice that the medics always had while they were counting their anti-psychotic meds. Why must they always think I'm insane? Why can't they just be patient? Whiskey wasn't found of sharing her thoughts until she was sure of something. It worked for her, and probably had to do with being on her own so much as a child but it tended to freak out the people around her for some reason. Finally her hand grazed something in the disgusting water.

She smiled. "Looking for this Sergeant. I was looking for this." She held the small object in the palm of her hand and wiped off the grime with her thumb. Her brain already identified it now it had moved on to what the common yet important object meant.

"What in the hell is that?" Jericho sat with his helmet in his lap to protect it from whatever else could be in the water.

"NR cred."

Target shrugged. "So...what. Why is that important in anyway? We are on one of their major trade cities, at least up until a handful of weeks ago."

"It was on him." She pointed to the old man. "Okay obviously this isn't proof. Think about it, he's still carrying NR credits, so either he's a coin collector, he doesn't change his pants often, or he's spent them recently. Since one of the first things the VE did was outlaw NR credits and anyone using them could be arrested, I'm curious who he would be spending NR cred's with."

The group was silent for a few moments they all looked in various directions but no one looked at each other. "The NR's the ones buying the weapons."

Whiskey nodded. "Yea, which means we may be walking into something even more messy than we first thought." She couldn't help but be slightly excited by the prospect of a well matched fight rather than the militia boys they had dispatched so quickly.

Splashing and the sound of boots running down one of the other tunnels towards the junction silenced them all. Everyone immediately got into formation, weapons at the ready.

=========

From their position they could only see darkness, but if the new group of militia decided to come down this particular tunnel they would be met with only a flash of light from blaster fire before their death. The sound of boots walking circles around the junction was heard just before the voices chimed in.

"What the hell happened? The whole damn team is dead!"

"Shut up, Kinsly."

"But who did this? There's somebody down here man, I'm going back."

The sound of someone being pulled back by surprise probably by their collar based on the slight gagging sound. "I said shut up, Kinsly."

"He's right though, we need to head back and report this, pronto man."

A loud sigh could be heard clearly. "Alright fine you damn pussy's. Lets take the north tunnel its faster."

========

Whiskey smirked and turned to the others keeping her voice a whisper. "You heard the man, let's take the north tunnel, its faster."



OOC:
Figure the north tunnel is the one that Target was in earlier about 100 meters or so from the where he was before there will be some kind of settlement. I'm thinking something between how the survivors were living in Terminator (the original, nothing like a classic baby) and maybe a town in Fallout, but honestly feel free to play around with the settlement as much as you like. I'll leave the details to you guys (which also means its first come first serve)

The important thing is we will find Arkanians, and a surprisingly large number of non-Arkanians (hmm gee wonder who they could be working for???). Keep up the good work guys.
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
Sergeant First Class || RAIDERS Squad Leader || ARC Lead
SL||SFC HAVOCK||2SQD||1PLT||1COM||1BAT||1RGT||VEA||VE [ESC09] {RES} [HoTC]
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Zeshaun
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Zeshaun
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 23, 2010 8:20:04 PM    View the profile of Zeshaun 
Gecko followed near the middle of the pack, he didn’t want to be the one in the front or back because he knew they were prone to be the first ones dead if they were ambushed in the confined space of the tunnels. The fact that the Arkanians were using VE weapons against them sent a chill down his spine, although he wasn’t sure why. The quiet sloshing of their feet wading through the shallow waters of the sewers echoed off the walls. Gecko thought he heard the faint whispers of voices over the echo of their feet. The elite squad suddenly stepped into a portion of the sewers that opened up into a larger hall, the floors were dry and lights bordered the walls.

“Where did this come from?” Wildcat asked to no one in particular.

Whiskey put a finger to her lips, the squad quieted down and they stalked the halls, making as little noise as possible. They suddenly turned into a larger area where there were actual people walking around, conversing with each other, and actually going about their lives as if they lived here. It seemed that no one felt the presence of the squad, and they seemed to be blending in with the crowd at the moment.

“Let’s try to figure out what is happening here.” Whiskey said, and then thinking for a moment added a little detail. “Let’s stay as groups though, don’t want to lose any of us in the crowd.”

The whole ARC squad moved into the living area. Although it was larger than the halls, it still was not big and the group of them had a hard time just walking through without forcing people out of the way.  They managed to get through the civilian area without incident but Gecko noticed that not everyone there was Arkanian. In fact, he found that many of them were not Arkanian, and he was very surprised. He expected that any underground faction would consist mostly of Arkanian refugee’s but the fact that there were people from other planets made him think about what was actually happening down under the capital city.

They suddenly reached a completely deserted area of the complex, the transition was almost instantaneous and they realized that there now guards of some sort patrolling or simply walking around. Doors lined the halls, each assigned with a number. Their large group now suddenly stood out, and the guards were eyeing them suspiciously as they walked around the halls.

“Let’s find those prisoners before they figure out that something is going on.” Whiskey suggested.

OOC:
I haven't realy found the pirsons yet, but we are getting close,
Gunnery Sergeant Zeshaun
TRP/GSG Zeshaun/3SQD/1PLT/COM/REG/BAT//VEA/VE[LoR][ES1][IH][EW1][DCE][CCA][SC]{RES}[AoT][EW1][ESC09]
Always a Paladin on the inside

http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Zeshaun
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YFC
Corvin
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Corvin
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 25, 2010 8:39:49 AM    View the profile of Corvin 
"I can't believe this, ma'am." Target muttered over the squad com channel as he walked down the hallway. "These idiots are just letting us walk in?"

"Well, since we're not being shot at...looks like it." Gecko murmured.

The ARC squad passed down another hallway, weapons in hand but not fully raised. No need to give the game away before they had to. This area seemed comparatively deserted, but there was no telling how long that state of affairs would last.

A pair of guards stood at the end of the hall, and both watched the ARCs warily as they approached. One of them held up one gloved hand, raising a long-barrelled, scoped blaster pistol in the other. His companion mirrored the gesture. Whiskey came to a stop roughly a meter away, lowering her rifle as she did so.

"Off-worlder." the Arkanian said, his voice faintly contemptuous. He was wearing a full-face militia helmet, making his expression impossible to read. "State your purpose and authorization for being here."

There was a moment of silence.

"Sergeant," Jericho said over the com, the conversation inaudible to anyone outside the squad. "I'm picking up some odd readings. Looks like Army trooper tags. It's faint, but definitely in this direction."

"Are you listening to me, mercenary?" the man demanded angrily, gesturing with his pistol for emphasis. Target noted the weapon had a series of scratches in its side, as though a logo of some kind had been scraped away, and his eyes narrowed. "Show me your identification, now."

"Sure, sir. Right away." Whiskey replied, then switched to the squad com. "Take them out."

There was a muffled crack, and the talkative guard's head exploded into a cloud of gore. As he fell, Whiskey lunged for the other guard, her free hand fumbling with a cylinder of some kind.

There was a sharp click, a momentary flash as a blade caught the light for an instant, and the man fell over backwards, gurgling as he tried to stem the sudden flow of blood. His blaster pistol clattered to the floor next to him.

Dispassionately, Whiskey knelt and stabbed the Arkanian twice more, then wiped the multiweapon on the corpse's fatigues and got back to her feet.

"Nice toy." the ARC squad leader muttered to herself, clipping the multi-weapon back to her belt. Nearby, Gecko was pushing a new clip into his rifle.

Wildcat suddenly hissed in surprise, turning one of the fallen guard's blaster pistols over in her hands.

"More Imperial hardware. Looks like we're on the right track."

Sure enough, one of the pistols was an SE-14 sidearm, commonly issued to officers, while the other was a compact scout trooper pistol. Both had been subjected to the same treatment as the rifle Target had found earlier.

"Interesting." Whiskey murmured. "Jericho, the tags?"

"Signal's still there, Sergeant. Should be down this hallway."

"Understood. Hide the bodies, then move out."

Quickly, the troopers dragged the two Arkanians into one of the side rooms. The structure had evidently been a hotel of some kind at one point, with a collapsed bedframe taking up most of the available space.

Target let go of the guard's legs and the body flopped limply to the floor. It wouldn't stand up to a search, but it would be slightly less suspicious than a pair of bodies.

"Move out, ARCs!" Whiskey ordered.
ETRP/CPL Corvin/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE[ESC09][AoT][IH][HotC]
~BLACKJACK~
*Vehicle Pilot*
Read the bloody manual!
"Never believe a rumour of my demise. I have as many lives as a cat. Also as many teeth, as many claws, and the same cheery, cooperative disposition." Peter Wiggin, Xenocide
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Havock
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
March 28, 2010 9:32:15 AM    View the profile of Havock 
The undercity was dirty. Every step the troopers took a wave of dust swam up into the sensors on her hud. As they exited the old abandoned hotel, all Whiskey could think was that it was a good sign that the hotel was as deserted as it was. The inhabitants would have certainly be using it for housing if their population was swelling.

The streets were dimly lit, many of the lights flickered in sync with the rapid transport shuttles overhead. The scene laid out before her was eerie and made that breakfast she had many hours ago twist and turn in her stomach. It was a street, like any other street you would see in any city. Shops lined the road springing forth from all the shorter buildings and the tall buildings should have been gleaming in the light from the sun. Yet in this city, nothing gleamed, the shops stood empty, and the streets seemed to only be walked by ghosts.

"Where in the hell is everyone?" Target shifted his rifle to lean against his shoulder.

Jericho quickened his pace. "Should be just up here."

"Yea that's what you said in the hotel, we search every room and found zip."

"Shut up, Target." Whiskey wanted to find the Major and who ever else was down here as soon as possible, but something about this whole scene was just off.

"There, that one." Jericho pointed to what used to be a cafe of some kind. The front was a sea of transperiglass with tables lining the sidewalk. All of the umbrellas that once blocked the sun from the tables were now twisted and falling, their colors faded and distorted. An entire pane of glass was broken, allowing entrance to the troopers. Their slow moving boots crunched the shards of glass on the floor. Each of the troopers had their weapons raised at the ready as they crept towards a long table with bar stools, beyond that was what appeared to be an old style kitchen.

Jericho tapped Whiskey on the shoulder and gestured towards the rear of the kitchen. They approached what appeared to be a very large metallic door with an odd handle.

"Is that the freezer?" Jester slowly put her pistol in its holster and started fishing around in her medpack for supplies. Wildcat laid flat against the door, her hand on the handle. Gecko and Whiskey stood, weapons ready for when they gave the signal for the door to fly open. With a nod the handle popped and the door sprung open. Everyone ran in and slumped their shoulders as their weapons slowly lowered.

The room had lost its chill many years before, but the sight in front of her sent a shiver down her spine. The room was empty save the dozen stormtrooper uniforms laying in a pile.

"The bastards stripped them of their uniforms...which means they knew about the tags and dumped them here. They know we're coming." Whiskey's voice was low and her eyes slowly trailed up to something in the corner of the room on the roof.

Wildcat shrugged her shoulders. "How do you know that? There's nobody here."

Jericho sighed and slammed his weapon into his holster as his eyes traveled up to the same point on the ceiling that Whiskeys were now fixed. She slowly pointed and they all turned to look. "My first clue, was the blasted camera that's looking right at us."

They all silently walked back out to the street. "So now which way do we go?" Gecko muttered as they stood in the road.

"I'm going to say that way." Target pulled out his rifle and everyone could tell he was grinning.

At the north end of the road, a group of militia, this group was wearing armor, was running full tilt towards the ARC team.

"Well then, lets get this party started, shall we?"




OOC:
Some street fighting, lets say there are 9 of these guys. Nothing we can't handle, but they should be a bit more intelligent then the ones we fought in the sewers. As they fall back they will lead us to a building (specifics are your choice) where the very pissed off Major and the others are actually being held without their armor. (I say 8 others are still alive, making a nice squad size 9 total, but again up to you I'm good as long as the Major is alive and angry). This shouldn't be an easy task to get there but that's where we are headed.
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
Sergeant First Class || RAIDERS Squad Leader|| ARC Lead
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Zeshaun
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Zeshaun
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
April 5, 2010 5:48:55 PM    View the profile of Zeshaun 
Gecko laughed as he began to pick off some of the armored guards that came sprinting toward ARC. But to his displeasure the guards weren’t as stupid as the ones that they had dealt with before. They skillfully took cover when necessary and it made it very difficult to kill them. Gecko’s frustration grew as he missed more and more. As the guards came closer and closer down the road, Gecko felt his hand gravitation toward his vibroblade that he carried with him. Although originally it was used for ceremonial purposes, he had been awarded the blade as a gift when he left for the academy.

“We can’t stay here all day, we need to move up.” Whiskey yelled.

Don’t mind if I do Gecko thought as he jumped over the car that he had been taking cover behind and sprinted up towards another car parked on the edge of the street. Other ARC members followed him up, moving up on the advancing guards. The sudden aggressive style of fighting from the ARC’s caught the guards off guard and they stopped their advancement. They took cover in some of the buildings, Gecko could hear doors being busted in to provide cover. There was a sudden moment of silence, both sides were waiting for the other to make a move.

“Target, Jericho, you guys move up first and draw them out here, we’ll cover you.” Whiskey ordered.

Both of them grumbled as they slipped out from their hiding places and started sprinting farther up the street. Bullets began to fly in their direction, Gecko immediately began to fire towards the buildings where the shots were coming from. Gecko then looked up and saw that the buildings were all close enough to travel from one to the other through their windows. Gecko motioned up and Whiskey nodded, understanding the simple hand gesture. Gecko climbed the stairs to the second floor and went to a window facing the closest building. Eyeing the distance he backed up a few steps and the sprinted toward the window, diving head first, aiming towards the next building. For a few seconds he thought he wasn’t going to make it, and he thought he was going to die. Extending his hand he caught onto the window sill of the other building, slamming against the wall.

“You okay up there?” Whiskey’s voice asked him through the comlink.

Gecko could not answer for a few seconds, he had had the wind knocked out of him. “I’m alright.” Was all he could manage to choke out.

He lifted himself up into the room and leand back against the wall, catching his breath. That was a bad idea He snuck down the stairs, hoping that the guards inside had not heard him slamming into the wall above them. He cooked a smoke grenade and banked it off the wall into the room below. As the smoke filled the room, he switched to thermal vision and charged the room with his vibroblade. The blinded guards could not see the blade coming as he pierced one through the shoulder blades, the blade exiting out from their throats. The second one fired sporadically into the smoke but Gecko was able to sprint up and jab the blade into the guards stomach, he felt the body fall limp against him. He pulled the blade out and let the guard drop to the foor.

“I got two down.”
Corvin
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Corvin
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
April 12, 2010 2:37:19 PM    View the profile of Corvin 
The door caved in after the third shot.

There was a shriek of metal, and sparks and rust particles flew everywhere. The air was suddenly filled with the sharp tang of ozone, competing with the stench of rot which permeated the undercity.

There was a sharp whine, and a blaster bolt shot out of the gloom, impacting against Target's chestplate. The stormtrooper grunted, staggering back a half-step. Grunting as the force of the impact pushed the breath from his lungs, he struggled to bring his rifle back up.

Another shot lanced through the air, going wide and exploding against a wall on the other side of the street.

Target aimed, braced, and held the trigger down. The BC-10's stock jerked against his shoulderpad as it fired, the weapon shrieking as the trooper emptied the clip into the gap.

There was a clack as Target finally released the trigger, the weapon's power cell half depleted.

The room beyond the doorseal was in ruins, a make-shift barricade crackling merrily just beyond the door. Several fist-sized craters had been punched right through the wall, letting the half-light stream through and cast long shadows on the dusty floor.

There was no body on the floor.

Target charged through the doorway, leaping over the remains of the shattered doorseal. Pieces of loose metal clattered down around him as he landed, weapon raised and already starting to turn.

There was a high-pitched humming noise, a blurred impression of something grey and fast, and suddenly the man was in Target's face, slashing at the stormtrooper with some kind of pike.

Target's rifle went flying into a corner, part of the front carved away by a wild swing. The miltiaman quickly swung the force pike back, snarling in triumph.

Reflexively, Target raised an arm to block the blade, and the weapon's humming head skittered off his gauntlet with a shower of sparks.

"Surrender, rebel scum!" Target yelled.

Screaming obscenities in some Arkanian dialect, the attacker didn't reply, instead pulling his weapon back and stabbing again.

The pike's blade brushed against the arm-guard again, scattering another shower of sparks, then became caught and started to cut deep into the gauntlet.

Desperately, Target jerked backwards, pulling in an attempt to dislodge the cutting blade. The attacker snarled something unpleasant as the weapon nearly slipped from his grasp, barely managing to tug his pike back as Target finally pulled free of the weapon's head.

The two circled the room several times, each watching the other for an opening. Whoever this miltiaman was, he was good, and had probably undergone more training than the usual blaster-sponge.

Normally, this would be when Target started yelling Imperial slogans, but most of his attention was on the force pike and on the disturbing prospect of ending up impaled on it. For once, self-preservation was winning out over zeal.

Target suddenly dropped to one knee, arm reaching to the side as though for the fallen rifle. Seeing an opening, the militiaman lunged, the pike humming as the man swung.

The pike head's wicked edge hissed as it slashed downwards, but cut nothing but air.

Target had thrown himself to the side, his other arm already coming up. The ARC multiweapon was clutched tightly in his hand, the activated blade humming viciously as it vibrated.

Target aimed and threw.

There was a meaty thump, followed by a clatter as the force pike dropped to the ground and deactivated. Target looked up, wary.

The man's body was slumped against the doorway, the still-humming multi-weapon carving a deep channel into his skull.

"Hostile down." Target reported, pulling himself back up.

Target looked at the body again and sighed in relief, his breathing slowly returning to normal. Once he'd gotten his breath back, he walked over to the corpse, tugging the knife out and wiping it on the man's fatigues.

The BC-10 had skittered into a corner during the melee. Retrieving the weapon, Target examined it for damage. Part of the barrel support rod had been sliced away, but the firing mechanism appeared undamaged.

Relieved, the trooper holstered the rifle, pulling out a DC-15 pistol from a belt pouch. Better not to risk an exploding blaster unless absolutely necessary.

After all, that was the advice given by "Weapons Usage and Maintainance", Chapter Three of the Imperial Army and Planetary Defense Operating Manual.

=====

The ZeraCorp Headquarters buidling was by far the largest structure in the undercity, with the tips of its towers coming meters away from the cracked undercity dome. The only building with power in the entire city, it was a glowing beacon against the gloom of the ruined hab blocks and offices.

Three towers stretched up from a massive fortress, each narrowing to a spike at the top and surrounded by a state of the art, shimmering energy shield. Far below, armoured walls formed rings around the central building, with constant patrols of guards circling their battlements.

The proles hadn't tried an attack for generations.

From his ray-shielded window in Tower Three, the President surveyed his domain. The faint notes of a Gregovion orchestra wafted through the air, emitted from carefully hidden speakers.

The President leaned back in his quietly humming repulsorchair, closing his eyes as he slowly tilted back a glass of fine crystal.

Both the glass and the Naboo blossom wine it contained were recent acquisitions, part of the spoils from a raid on the deserted embassies of the capitol dome. Things had become very profitable recently for ZeraCorp as a whole and the President in particular.

In the chaos following the overnight collapse of the Arkanian government and ensuring Imperial occupation, thousands of caste-workers and lower level functionaries had fled the dome-cities, while the command-castes had surrendered to the occupiers, bribed their way off-planet, or attempted to set up a resistance.

To the best of the President’s knowledge, most of the would-be guerilla leaders were dead by now, with one or two still alive and making trouble in the remoter domes. He suspected they would be stamped out within a month, even with the small amount of support ZeraCorp was providing for them. Still, they were more than returning the initial investment: with the Imperials distracted, the company’s operations in those domes could proceed more openly.

The President was jolted from his thoughts by a gentle chime. It echoed in the opulent chamber, then faded. The technicians responsible for its set-up had been very careful in making sure it didn’t repeat, in no small part because of the grisly fates of the last group of Tower Three techs. The unlucky technicians had bungled the com-warning installation, and been in the same room when the President threw a tantrum.

The limbless bodies were still hanging from the Tower Two com-spire.

Frowning, the President gently depressed a button mounted into his hoverchair, spinning away from the window as he did so. Solid durasteel plates slid down over the windows with a clunk, cutting the room off from the rest of the world.

At the centre of the room, an ornate table flickered with blue light, a holoprojector humming as it activated. A brown-coated figure appeared in the centre of the projection, slightly smaller than life. He was staring directly into the holocam, his expression carefully neutral.

“Mal! Malcom!” the President rumbled, leaning forwards. His bloated features were stretched into a grin, showing bleached teeth. The hoverchair’s repulsors whined briefly as they struggled to compensate for his weight. “So good to see you!”

“Likewise.” the man replied sharply. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“Hraah….of course, my friend. Of course. Things are going perfectly, hraah. The latest package was distributed on schedule.”

“Glad to hear it. Have you dealt with our little problem?” the longcoated figure asked, now shifting from foot to foot.

“Hraah….of course! The intruders are doubtless dead by now. The enforcer squad should be backwith the bodies soon, yes?”

“Good. Dead is go- a squad? One gohham squad?” the man spluttered.

“Of course, Mal, my friend! Why send more, yes? My boys are more than capable of dealing with a handful of lost Imperials.” The President chuckled, reaching for the bottle of blossom wine as he spoke.

Ta’ma’de.” The man snapped, all pretense of civility gone. “You have a situation on your hands, and if you don’t deal with it, you’ll be up to your neck in bantha dung. The gohham Imperials are probably directly after you now, and if you don’t clear this mess up quick, I reckon I’ll be forced to call off our deal. We have an understanding?”

The President stared at the image for a moment, jaw open and the bottle of blossom wine forgotten in one hand.

“Mal, Mal, my friend, surely there’s no need to overreact…” he began, raising his free hand in a placating gesture.

“Ain’t an overreaction.” The longcoated man snarled, cutting him off. “I asked you if we have an understanding, President.”

Dumly, the President nodded, the wine bottle in his hand dripping its contents onto the fine carpet.

“Glad to hear it. Reynolds out.”

The image fizzed and died.

The President sat there for a moment, staring at the space where the man had been, then started shaking. A quiet moaning noise forced its way from his compressed lips as he shook back and forth, a noise which suddenly broke free as a continuous, high-pitched shriek.

Screaming at the top of his lungs, President, Randolph Zera, heir to the ZeraCorp corporation and family fortune, threw his bottle at the holotable. The bottle shattered on the table, scattering glass pieces everywhere and leaving a long crack in the projector’s surface.

Randolph jerked, tottering out of his hoverchair on swollen legs and staggered over to a nearby table, covered with dataslates. Grabbing the top dataslate, he threw it against the nearest window. There was a thunk as it bounced off the reinforced transparisteel, its light flickering and going out.

Still screaming incoherently, the President threw the rest of the dataslates at random. One hit the wall, knocking down a priceless Astralist holopainting, while another smashed into a rack of wines, toppling it over and smashing several bottles.

After he’d thrown the last dataslate, the President ripped the cloth off the table and tossed it aside, then started to sob, collapsing against the wall. Mucus and tears streamed in channels down his swollen face, trickling onto his silk shirt as he sobbed.

Several minutes later, he finally rose back to his feet, kicked a stray dataslate out of his way as he returned to his hoverchair, and calmly called in his aides to clean up the room.

Then he made a transmission to Tower Two, which housed the Customer Discipline and Payment Reminder departments.

======
Someone yelled incoherently, and there was a continuous whine as a blaster was fired on full auto. The noise abruptly stopped, and there was a loud thump a moment later.

Glancing out the doorway, Target saw a body lying in the street, limbs twisted out of position and blood seeping into the gaps between the cobblestones under it. Several stories up, a shrouded figure peered down, helmet-eyes glowing a bright red in the half-light.

"Last one down." Wildcat purred into the com, sounding distinctly smug. Target stepped outside, watching as she contemptuously toed the miltiaman's dropped weapon, sending it skittering off the edge and into the street below.

"Good work," Whiskey replied. "Regroup and prepare to move out. Someone set that trap for us and it won't take long for them to realize something's gone wrong."

One by one, the ARC troopers filed out from the decript slum buildings, rifles in hand.

Target shuffled from foot to foot, pistol held in both hands and uneasy as he scanned the ruins for signs of movement. He didn't like standing around and waiting. Every noise and flash of light felt like a sniper training his sights on him.

Wildcat was the last to emerge, weapon held loosely in one armoured glove as she emerged of the half-collapsed tower. Her other hand was clutching a tattered piece of a militia tunic, holding it up to the light. Target saw a circular logo emblazoned into the fabric.

"Look at this." the trooper said thoughtfully, holding the rag up to the light. "Didn’t they all have the same logo on their uniforms?"

“I think so,” Target replied. “Doesn’t look like a standard logo or unit designation to me, though. Doesn’t match any known resistance group markings either…”

He stopped speaking when he realized no one was listening.

“ZeraCorp.” Gecko read, cocking his head to one side as he looked closer. “That’s one of the local corporations, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Whiskey confirmed. “They’re spread out, mostly salvage and gene research with power and water supply contracts pre-invasion. Branches all over the planet according to the file. Seems like their main branch is actually based in the undercity here for some reason.”

“Odd.” Wildcat muttered, dropping the tatter of fabric. “Why would miltia wear their logo?”

“We’re going to find out. Whoever sent that squad knows where the major and the others are as well.” Whiskey said grimly. “Move out, ARCs. We’ve got a few questions for someone down here.”

=====

Several streets away, a holoboard flickered to life as a figure covered in rags raced past it, running for its life. Several armoured figures followed after it, one of them barking orders to its subordinates. Stun shots crackled through the air, all of them missing the fugitive.

“Stop or I’ll shoot!” one of them yelled as the man rounded the corner, earning himself a sideways glance from the group’s leader.

One of the rounds hit the board, sending arcs of energy into the holopanels. The sound cracked, died for a moment, then looping several times before completely activating. Text flashed over its surface while a cheery, female voice repeated the words out loud in a slightly distorted tone.

The pursuers disappeared from sight.

“Zera Corp!” the board announced.

“Bringing you what you need, when you need it!”

“Remember, satisfaction is only a com call away!”

“To our valued customers, thank you for choosing ZeraCorp! “

“At ZeraCorp, we bring you what you need, when you need it. We regret to inform you, our valued customers, that we have been forced to adjust several prices as a result of the invasion.

Purified water will be raised to sixty credits a gallon from fifty. Ration packs are now twenty credits each. We apologize for any incovenience this may cause for you, the valued customers.

Feedback may be sent to Tower Four, where our team of highly trained personnel will be happy to answer any questions our valued customers may have. At Zera Corp, we care about our relationship with our customers!”

A holovid of the President suddenly appeared on the board. Recorded several years earlier, the vid showed him beaming at the holocam, waving one pudgy hand in greeting. The video quickly returned to the default backdrop.

“We regret to inform you that power cells are currently out of stock for our regular customers. Upgrade to a premium membership today, and receive a twenty credit discount on your first ten purchases! ZeraCorp, bringing you what you need, when you need it!

The picture suddenly became distorted, bars of interference appearing all along it. The woman’s voice repeated the same syllable over and over again, then suddenly returned to normal, skipping to a different message.

“We regret to inform our valued customers that their weekly ZeraCorp Civil Protection Fee is due in six hours. Failure to pay the ZeraCorp Civil Protection Fee at the appointed time may result in termination of contract and withdrawal of protection services. To learn more, call Tower Four today for an explanatory package! Additional fees and requirements may apply in some cases.”

The armoured figures reappeared, walking much more slowly this time. One of them was dragging the ragged figure by the arm, ignoring its wild flailing and attempts to pull free.

“Let me go!” his captive wailed. “Let me go, please, I paid my fee, I really did, honest!”

“Come with me if you want to live.” The trooper holding him said flatly, his posture stiff. The ragged man slumped, letting the trooper drag him along. The echoes quickly faded, drowned out by the announcer.

“Remember, at ZeraCorp, we care about the relationship between us and our valued customers! ZeraCorp, bringing you what you need, when you need it!”

The holoboard faded, the automatic timer shutting it back down. Silence returned to the street.

OOC:
New Republic Spec Ops Sergeant Reynolds, and his underling Corporal Allendyne. Gorram Imperials can't take the sky from them.

The Republic troops are somewhere completely different, probably above-ground, and in league with ZeraCorp. Or not, as of right now.

So we interrogate our luckless scavenger, find out a bit about how ZeraCorp runs the undercity, then storm the castle, yes? The Major and the others would be in one of the three towers. The reference to four towers was intentional, but there are three.
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~BLACKJACK~
*Vehicle Pilot*
Read the bloody manual!
"Never believe a rumour of my demise. I have as many lives as a cat. Also as many teeth, as many claws, and the same cheery, cooperative disposition." Peter Wiggin, Xenocide
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Havock
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
April 13, 2010 2:52:57 PM    View the profile of Havock 
The man slammed into the fence at the end of the alleyway. The air escaped from his lungs causing him to involuntarily clutch his diaphragm and hacking coughs filled the otherwise silent area. Jester put her small hand on Jericho's shoulder to stop him from throwing the homeless man again. "That's enough. You keep it up, you'll knock the guy unconscious."

"Both of you are making too much damn noise." Whiskey snapped her helmet off and knelt down next to the smelly man. He couldn't have showered in well over a month. She had returned from missions with uniforms that smelled better than this guy.

He was coughing so hard, spit dribbled down his bearded chin and dangled as he tried to catch his breath. Hitting him wasn't going to do much, the man had nothing to fear from the troopers. Seriously, how could they possibly make his life any worse than it already was. "Name?"

"Simon." He continued to cough and eye the trooper standing over him who had pulled out a cig and started to smoke.

Whiskey nodded and handed the man the emblem they had taken from the militia uniforms. "Do you know what that symbol is?"

Simon looked at it oddly then began to laugh so hard the breath he had managed to catch evaded him once again sending him back into a fit of coughing. "Are you serious lady?"

She blinked then suddenly grabbed the man by the collar of his tattered shirt and slammed him back against the fence. She flinched a moment seeing the pained expression in his eyes. Her early years had been full of these kinds of encounters, she had no idea how well those bastards that took her from her parents and her sister had taught her. Whiskey did not want to show the weakness she was now feeling, those haunting memories would have to wait for the nightmares where they typically tortured her.

"Yes, I'm kriffin' serious." Her voice growled as she inched closer to the man.

He frowned and backed away pushing his head into the links on the fence to escape the blonde woman glaring at him. "Alright, alright. Calm down, woman." The mans long dark hair was partially covering his eyes and it was making him blink as the sweat started to sting. "ZeraCorp. That's the fracking symbol they wear on their uniforms."

Whiskey let go of his shirt just slightly. "Where...why are you looking at the patch like that?" She frowned, he was looking almost wistfully at the piece of fabric in her hands. It struck her as odd given his current situation.

"I used to work for them gorgeous." Whiskey resisted the urge to throw him up against the fence again. He must have noticed the twitch in her eye and quickly continued. "I was nothing, a glorified janitor, but we all had uniforms with that symbol. The boss liked to keep us on a tight leash."

"What 'fee' did you pay? You seemed to think we were enforcers." Wildcat's soft voice purred from behind Whiskey's ear.

"Heh, heh. No...I..." Simon sighed. "We all have to pay a fee now to live down here. Zera hired some goons to come through the city and collect. They give you this ticket thing, and I kinda lost mine. But I paid, I always pay. Everyone around here knows what happens to you when you don't pay."

Gecko had found a spot to rest on a box where he could continue to watch the street and clean his rifle. "Where is this Zera?"

Simon scoffed and looked at the serious faces of the men and women watching him, waiting for an answer. "You guys really don't know. Interesting." He sighed and scratched his beard, he still had a curious grin on his face. "You can see that right?" He pointed towards the exit of the alleyway. Beyond the dimly lit street was a large structure, by far the largest in the undercity. Three towers rose out of the main structure, which was surrounded by a large wall-like structure. The lights made the large building also the brightest, in fact it could have been the only light source for the dark streets now that Whiskey thought about it.

She slowly stood up and looked around her. Target smirked and pulled out his rifle a glow he always got just before doing something stupid. "Can we storm the castle? Please tell me we get to storm the castle."

Whiskey slowly stood up. "We get to go in the giant-obviously-compensating-for-something building. I would prefer not to run in shouting." She turned back to Simon. "Okay buddy, lets hear about the employee entrance to that monster."


OOC:
ARC NPC's up to this point:

Gunnery Sergeant Jason "Raven" Sykes - SL of Crimson Brawler Squad

Major Tara "Gold Lion" Oulith - Gold Company Commander

President, Randolph Zera, heir to the ZeraCorp corporation and family fortune

New Republic Spec Ops Sergeant Reynolds, and his underling Corporal Allendyne

Simon - poor homeless dude we just abused for information.


What do we need to do:

Find a semi-quiet way into the fortress that is ZeraCorp, don't worry there will be plenty of fighting. After all they are not going to give up their prisoners easily.
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
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Zeshaun
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
April 21, 2010 3:48:04 PM    View the profile of Zeshaun 
The ARC squad slowly walked toward the employee entrance, so kindly pointed out by their homeless guide. As they approached they saw that there was a droid guarding the door, it didn’t seem to be an average battle droid, it was modified but it seemed that it was some sort of service droid idling standing by the door. Gecko watched it as it surveyed the road in front of it, he also noticed the cameras set up all around the entrance, from what he could see there was no way to sneak into the building without being seen by one camera or another. As ARC inched closer and closer, they saw that the door had a lock which looked like it needed some kind of code and card to get it.

“What should we do about the droid?” Target asked, gripping his rifle.

“Hold on now, we don’t have to kill it just because we can.” Whiskey said with a smile, she revealed a small ball. “We have one of these.”

“Blowing the place up isn’t much subtler than just shooting it.” Jericho retorted.

“It’s not just a grenade, this little piece of equipment will disable the electronics for 5 minutes, that will take out the security, the droid and the cameras.” Whiskey said with a boastful smile.

“Where’d you get your hands on that?” Gecko asked, eyeing the small metal ball.

“There are perks to being the squad leader of an elite squad.”

Whiskey pressed a few buttons, waited for everyone to give her a thumbs up, then rolled the ball out toward the door. The droid watched as the ball rolled toward its feet, when it stopped a few feet short, the droid shuffled over and bent over to pick it up. An electrical charge came flowing out of the tiny ball, ARC rushed out from their hiding positions and burst onto the scene, the droid had collapsed in a pile and the lights on the security pads had gone out. Whiskey pressed the button to open the doors but nothing happened.

“What the. . .” Whiskey stared at the security pad.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Wildcat said, looking anxiously toward her squad leader.

“The security is still up.” Whiskey said, turning toward the squad.

“There’s only a few minutes left, I’ll see what I can do.” Jericho stepped up to the front and got out his gear.

Gecko watched the clock and watched Jericho’s hands as he quickly began typing and clicking, trying to break the code before the miniature EMP ran out of time.

“Thirty seconds.” Whiskey said, staring at her watch.
Jericho’s hands moved faster, screen after screen of text rolled by as he worked, Gecko watched in awe as the veteran slicer did his work.

“Ten seconds. . .”Whiskey said quieter, not wanting to distract him.

“We’re in!” Jericho yelled.

The doors slid open, and the ARC squad rushed in. Gecko heard the droid come back online as the slipped into the door. They had made it in, hopefully without being noticed, but they couldn’t be sure, they had cut it very close.

“Let’s get moving, we don’t want to be caught down here if they sound guards down to see what the power outage was all about.” Whiskey said, ushering them down the hall.
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Corvin
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
April 26, 2010 2:41:23 PM    View the profile of Corvin 
The troopers advanced down the hallway, the thick carpet muffling their footsteps as they walked.

The six ARCs were in a standard v-formation, with Wildcat on point and Jericho and Jester bringing up the rear. Target and Gecko were directly behind Wildcat, rifles half-raised.

Target had checked the rifle for damage during a brief pause en-route to ZeraCorp, and had then managed to attach a replacement support rod (as covered in Chapter Three, Section Five of the Imperial Operating Manual). The replacement should hold for the time being, and he always had his deece pistol as backup.

Red eyes glinted in the half-light.

The lighting down here was surprisingly sparse, with carved pillars casting long shadows across the carpet. Overhead, lighting panels flickered on and off sporadically.

Added to the schizophrenic decor, the effect was somewhat odd, as though the designers couldn't decide whether they were building a cathedral or an office building.

Target heard a shuffling noise, and raised his rifle. A man in a grubby uniform appeared from around a bend in the hallway, holding a large metal box in one hand. He was slightly bent over, with several days worth of stubble on his face, and his eyes were downcast.

The man's eyes flickered up briefly, and he dropped the toolbox.

"Stop hi-" Whiskey began.

Target aimed and fired.

There was a dull whine, and the man fell with most of his chest missing. The air suddenly stank of charred flesh.

Whiskey stared at the body for a moment, then glared.

"I said [i]stop[/i], not kill."

"Sorry, ma'am. Won't make that mistake again. Won't happen again, m'am."

Whiskey snorted, then gestured for Target to move the body.

Bending over, the trooper grabbed the body by the neck and pulled. It flopped limply as he dragged it over to behind a pillar, leaving a trail of ash in the carpet as he did so. Target propped the body against the wall behind the pillar. With luck, any investigators would miss it in the gloom.

With a little more luck, said investigators would happen to also be Gamorrean guards with eyesight problems.

Target tossed the dropped toolbox across the hallway. It landed  on the slumped body with a clatter, and the trooper nodded to Whiskey.

"Keep moving." the ARC squad leader ordered, and the squad passed onwards.

The central hallway stretched onwards for a while, then abruptly stopped. A solid-looking blast door cut off the entrance, with a ID scanner mounted on the wall to it's right.

Whiskey raised a hand, and the ARC troopers came to a stop.

"Wait." the ARC lead muttered. "Look at the walls."

Target squinted, prompting his visor to zoom in on each of the walls. All he saw was grimy stone and wood paneling, most of which were encrusted with the ubiquitous ZeraCorp logo.

"I don't see anything but bad taste, ma'am." Target commented. One of the other troopers snorted.

Gecko suddenly hissed.

"Those two panels...they're newer." the Trandoshan said.

"Yes." Whiskey said grimly. "Cleaner, too, and look like they slide to the side. I'd bet half my next paycheck that there's an autoturret tucked behind each of them."

"Frak." Target swore. "This ZeraCorp really is paranoid. First the gearhead at the door and now this? Wonder how their workers get inside alive..."

"They're right to be paranoid." Whiskey replied. "Especially because we're coming for a visit."

The squad leader rummaged through a belt pouch for a moment, then pulled out a familiar, small sphere.

"You brought a spare, ma'am?" Target asked, somewhat redundantly.

"Never hurts to be prepared." the squad leader replied tersely. "I'm setting this one to low power; we need the control panel active to get inside. Should give us two minutes. Jericho, Wildcat, you disable the turrets. Jester, check for any other nasty little surprises."

There were acknowledgments from the group of ARCs.

"Grenade primed." Whiskey informed the squad, then rolled the ball down the hall. The polished sphere spun across the carpet, making a quiet clink as it touched the blast door.

There was a buzz, followed by a crackling noise as arcs of blue-white energy played across the door and walls. The wall panels flickered and died.

"Move!" Whiskey ordered, and the squad sprung into motion.

Jericho and Wildcat moved to either side of the doors, prying at the clean wall panels with their multiweapons as the other ARCs covered the area between them. The panels slid out of sight as the pair of troopers tugged, revealing the weapons tucked behind them.

"An autoturret hooked up to a scanner." Jericho commented. "Easy enough to kriff up."

With that, the squad slicer slashed several cables in the cavity, then tugged out the turret's power cells. On the other side, Wildcat was doing much the same thing.

"Found anything, Jester?" Whiskey asked.

The ARC trooper shook her head.

"Looks clean to me. Blast door's pretty thick, though."

"Not a problem. Controls should reactivate in about a minute. Jericho?"

"Done."

The squad waited, weapons raised and covering the door. No point in being taken off-guard.

Finally, there was a chime, and the wall panel lit up. Lights flashed on and off in a start-up sequence, then died. The panel was still active, though.

"Jericho?" Whiskey invited.

"On it." the trooper replied, sounding almost pleased.

The other ARCs took up firing positions as the slicer started to work, connecting a datapad to the panel and typing furiously.

"How are we doing?" Whiskey asked after a while.

"Almost there." Jericho murmured. "Just have to..."

There was an affirmative chime, and the blast doors started to grind open.

Jericho quickly pulled back, taking up a position directly behind the door panel.

"Wait for clear targets." Whiskey cautioned as the doors groaned open.

Light spilled through the gap. In contrast to the corridors up to this room, the processing area was well lit and comparatively modern. The area was dominated by a circular desk built into the floor, with side doors on all side.

An astonished receptionist seated behind the desk gaped in astonishment, while a squad of enforcers in fatigues reached for their weapons.

"ARC! Take, take, take!" Whiskey ordered, and the ARCs spilled through the doorway.

"For the Empire! Death to its enemies!" Target yelled, firing his BC-10 from the shoulder as he charged alongside Gecko. The other ARCs were more methodical, spreading out as they advanced and firing single shots at their enemies.

Several of Target's bolts caught one of the enforcers in the face-grille as he drew his pistol, and the man's head came apart. Two others went down a moment later, caught by precise bursts from Whiskey and Jericho.

Target sidestepped as a crackling stun baton came down where he'd been a moment ago, then clubbed its wielder over the head with his rifle butt. The hostile went down, stunned by the impact, and Target finished the job with a point-blank shot.

There was a buzz from nearby as Gecko finished the last enforcer with a vibroblade slash, and an uneasy silence descended on the lobby. The walls were pitted with impact craters, and the bodies of the enforcers smoldered quietly underfoot.

"Hold it!" Whiskey suddenly called, raising her rifle. "Don't move!"

There was a dismayed squeak from behind the desk, and the receptionist emerged. Short and plump, the man shook in terror as he raised his hands.

"Where do they take the prisoners?" the ARC lead demanded.

The man opened his mouth to speak.

"In the-"

"Don't lie." the ARC lead interrupted coldly, flicking a switch on the side of her rifle. "Or we'll come back and find you."

"Tow..Tower Two. Cu...Customer Discipline and...Payment Reminders! That's where they take the people who don't pay! Tower Two! Please, please don't hurt me! Please!"

"Where?"

Quivering, the receptionist waved frantically to the door to his left.

"Thank you." Whiskey said, then shot him in the chest as he cowered against the wall.

He collapsed, the stun bolt's energy dissipating against the wall.
 
"No point in stealth now. We move fast, mow down anyone in the way, and find the Major before they can move her. ARCs, move out!"
ETRP/CPL Corvin/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE[ESC09][AoT][IH][HotC]
~BLACKJACK~
*Vehicle Pilot*
Read the bloody manual!
"Never believe a rumour of my demise. I have as many lives as a cat. Also as many teeth, as many claws, and the same cheery, cooperative disposition." Peter Wiggin, Xenocide
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"The Committee has also voted to change the name of the position, simply because no one liked the fact that its accronym spelled out Noo. "
[This message has been edited by Corvin (edited April 26, 2010 2:44:35 PM)]
Havock
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
April 27, 2010 6:26:32 PM    View the profile of Havock 
"Do you hear that?"

The man being spoken to lifted his head with great annoyance. "Aw sit the hell down Sheldon, there ain't a damn thing to see."

"Seriously Leo, someone just screamed." Sheldon pointed through the bars of the cell.

"So? Anyways its a kriffing office building. Why would people be screaming, unless they got a paper cut?" Leo scratched the grizzle that had formed on his chin from days in the Customer Discipline and Debt Reclamation department, CDDR for short. It was a charming place at the top of tower two. A large room with a beautiful receptionist and about a dozen cells. The logic escaped all the troopers from Gold Company, if the people are locked up how in bloody hell are they going to be able to pay their debts. Friggin' corporations just made no sense at all.

"Why indeed?" Major Oulith stood with a grace that betrayed their situation and sauntered over to stand next to Leo. "What else have you noticed, Private?"

Leo looked genuinely scared. The major had barely spoken a word since she had been brought in, of course then she didn't speak at all due to the large dose of whatever drug they pumped into her veins. When she came to, the great minds at Zeracorp were damn lucky they had locked the woman in a well-reinforced cell.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid that's all I've heard or seen was just what sounded like a woman screaming." He tried his best to keep his voice from shaking.

She nodded curtly. "Well, you should never be afraid of screaming, hell its what most people do when they see me coming. I find it, exhilarating." With that she returned to her seat on the single cot in the room.

=====

The employee's scattered like dust in the wind as they approached.

"For the love of...how many more levels is it? My balls are starting to get tired." Jericho stomped forward shooting a man in a button down shirt unceremoniously as he walked.

"Charming, really. Its on the top level, you find a turbolift and make sure its under our control and the rides on you Jer." Whiskey dropped to one knee behind a desk and fired at a group of screaming secretaries.

Target ran past her screaming something that made her roll her eyes before silencing the secretaries once and for all.

"Yanno, this would go a whole lot faster if we just move, these civilians don't really pose much of a threat to our armor." Jester shook her head at Target as she spoke.

Wildcat and Whiskey nodded. "We will scout ahead, find a faster way up to the top floor. You guys follow in delta formation."

"OH yea, for the....Delta formation?" Target looked at Gecko.

The trandoshan hissed a long laugh. "Just spread out but stay in eye shot."


OOC:
Wow, I know wicked short Havvie, what gives? Well Havvie is wicked tired so forgive me. Basically Wildcat and I are scouting slightly ahead of the rest of you to find a faster way up to the top floor. Turbolift will do the trick as long as Jericho can rig it right. So carry on, good work, love you, GOOD NIGHT.
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
Sergeant Major || RAIDERS Squad Leader|| ARC Lead || Wildcard Platoon Adjutant
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Zeshaun
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
April 29, 2010 8:55:08 PM    View the profile of Zeshaun 
Gecko lead the delta formation, he was the tip. ARC methodically swept through the office room, killing any of the white collared workers that managed to get in their way. Everyone kept a look out for any sort of turbolift that would save the lot from having to climb yet another set of stairs. When they turned the corner out of the main office, there was a set of three turbolifts. Each one was still functioning but the workers were using them to get to the bottom floors to escape from ARC.

“These bugs need to get out of our way.” Target said, tapping his foot impatiently.

As soon as the turbolift opened up, a group of 5 terrified workers looked out at them, visible shaking in fear.

“Get out.” Target said menacingly.

The workers burst out from the turbolift, sprinting toward the stairways. Target chuckled to himself before stepping in with the rest of the ARC squad. Jericho hit the top floor and the turbolift shot up, when they reached the top floor, they came out onto another working area, almost identical to the one they had just left.

“There’s no way that this is the top.” Gecko said, looking around.

They moved in formation with Jericho in the middle so that he could do some work and figure out where exactly they were headed. Gecko lead the attack again as they easily wiped out any remaining workers still in their work areas. Gecko nervously looked around at the camera’s that were installed in each corner of the room. After thinking for a quick minute, he took each one out with four quick bursts from his rifle.

“Look at this,” Jericho said, pointing at his data pad. “There are a few more floors above this, but it looks like the these turbolifts don’t go up that far.”

“Are there any other lifts around here that do?” Jester asked.

Jericho shook his head. “Not from what I can tell, but there has to be some somewhere.”

“Let’s search every inch of this floor, I am not going to leave until we find these people.” Gecko said.

ARC began their search of the floor, Gecko began by looking through each work area, trying to find some kind of concealed button, but each desk was the same as the last. He began to get frustrated, he did not like having to waste time.  Suddenly Target yelled out.

“I got it!” He looked very excited, he was standing in front of a small crawl space behind the large mounted screen against the back wall. “This leads somewhere, it’s worth investigating right?”

“It’s the only lead we have right now so I don’t see why not.” Jericho said looking into the small space.

They went through one at a time, the tiny connecting tunnel was barely large enough for Gecko to fit through. When he came out the other side, he was surprised to find that there was a single turbolift in front of him. The lights were off and it didn’t seem to be functioning.

“I got this.” Jericho pushed up to the front and plugged in his data pad.

After a few quick minutes the lights were on, and the doors slid open. ARC silently filed in, Jericho tapped a few buttons on his data pad, the doors slid closed and the lift began to move farther up into the building.
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
May 14, 2010 3:25:05 PM    View the profile of Havock 
“You are where?” The anger on Whiskey’s face was evident.  She was squeezing the comlink in her raised hand so hard it was impressive that it didn’t break. Here she and Wildcat were standing like idiots in front of a turbolift while the others had to sneak through three rooms to the other side of the building and used a different turbolift. “I’m going to kill them,” she muttered uselessly under her breath.

Wildcat jumped back to avoid a bolt of energy which spit out from the control panel she was attempted to rig without any training. “Dammit, woman the only thing you will succeed in doing is decorating our turbolift shaped coffin. Come on let’s find the stairs.”

“Wait, Whiskey. The stairs are going to be full of guards, that’s why we didn’t go that way in the first place.” She looked concerned but kept getting distracted by the tingling sensation in the tips of her fingers.

“What’s wrong Cat? Not up for a challenge this afternoon?” With a smirk she kicked the door to the stair case open and peered up the dark shaft. The readings on her heads up display were what you would expect in a deserted building but not one that should have been full of civilians and guards.

They managed three flights of stairs and could see that the remaining two were clear to the top. “I’ve got a wicked bad feeling about this.” Whiskey skidded to a stop her eyes glued to an access panel.

“Do you hear that?”

“Yea.”

Both women approached the panel with their weapons drawn. The durasteel slab lit up like a firework and the loud bang that accompanied the light dropped both of them to their knees.  Whiskey scrambled to the side and used her gloved hand to rip off the smoking panel. Black vapor poured out of the opening, obscuring any hope of seeing what was in the room beyond with their eyes.

The sounds of blaster fire and yelling could be made out several meters beyond the opening. Whiskey noticed the charred remains of some kind of detonator steaming just inside the opening. She looked over at Wildcat. The woman was gripping her blaster rifle, yet still possessed a cat-like grace about her even just in the way she knelt down and awaited her orders.

“Ready?” She nodded and they both rolled their eyes as a faint but unmistakable ‘for the empire’ could be heard over the dim. “I’m gonna kill him.”

The smoke cleared to reveal a private conference room full of fairly advanced equipment. To her left an open doorway revealed an office with holoprojectors for windows that made it appear to be a rather beautiful sunny day. Whiskey wasn’t a fan of illusions. If you choose to work under the ground it seemed ridiculous to her to pretend you worked in a penthouse on the beach front.

Another door in the conference room proved to be the turbolift that Jericho and the others had taken. Possibly the most humorous part of the whole scene were the twelve or so well dressed business men in suits shooting modified E-11 blasters at the ARC troopers. Whiskey considered snapping a holo just so she could laugh later on. She sighed and lifted her Merr-Sonn Acklay-12 rifle and fired. The bolt flew through the air and a very surprised businessman cocked his head at an odd angle, his eyes carried his confusion as he collapsed to the ground from the concentrated fire that hit the back of his head.

“Ladies! Welcome to the party!” Jericho waved and continued to fire, taking down the men one at a time. They had a decent position and anyone could tell that they were not taken by surprise.

A man with a large knife dove at Whiskey from the side. Wildcat saw it from her position and jumped over, one hand hitting his chest hard and the other knocking the wrist with the knife away. She gripped his weapon wrist with both hand and swiftly moved to the side nailing him in the ribs with her backside sending him into a wave of coughing hard enough for him to lose his grip on the knife. She kicked it away a second before he flew over her shoulder and she smashed him into the ground, knocking him unconscious.

The rest of the unarmored men quickly fell to the ARC squad leaving a very messy room full of smoke and the smell of burning flesh.

Gecko walked up, offering his commander a hand to her feet. “Where have you two been?”

“You were supposed to…ugh, just nevermind. What the hell was that mess?”

Target rested his foot in one of the plush office chairs and leaned on his knee. “No clue. This was the highest floor we could get to work. The doors open, and here I am thinking, okay business guys in suits, they will run. Ha, no.  The bastards start shooting at us before the damn doors are even open all the way.”

Whiskey looked at him oddly for a moment. “Are there any other rooms attached to this one?”

Jericho looked up from his datapad. “Well I downloaded the schematics, and yanno there should be based on the design but I just can’t figure where the thing is.”

“Yea, spread out there’s a hidden door somewhere in here or this office. You don’t leave heavily armed men in here to discuss business mergers, they are protecting something.”

The squad quickly spread out, all taking a wall and studying it using their HUD and old fashioned touching the durasteel. A yelp from the office got everyone’s attention. “Whiskey, found something.” Jester appeared in the doorway with a nodding Gecko behind her.

Whiskey pushed past Jericho and entered the office. Her eyes were drawn to what appeared to be a full length mirror before, which now was separated from the wall to reveal another room. She motioned with her hands to indicate they should follow with weapons ready.

The room beyond was well lit and eerily quiet. She pushed the mirror aside with the muzzle of her rifle and took a slow step into the room. It was bright and Spartan in décor. A singular table was in the center of the room and it faced a room length bank of bars. It was the bars that drew her attention, not because they were an odd thing to find in an office building, but because they were strangely empty. The clank of a pistol on the back of her helmet brought her creeping to a halt. Whiskey turned slowly just enough to see the older woman’s blonde hair in her peripheral vision. 

“Point that rifle away from my gut trooper.”

Whiskey smirked and lowered her rifle to the floor. "Major Oulith, good to see you ma'am."

"Yes, I suppose it is. Took you long enough, we already disposed of the guard." She gestured towards the desk with her free hand in a nonchalant way. Only then did she see the trail of blood on the floor.

Eight soldiers stood with the major in various stages of armor mixed with whatever they had happened to wear under their armor. The mixture of men and women looked tired but determined to find out why they had been taken from their squads and practically drooled at the weapons in the troopers hands.

"We just took care of a room full of armed guys, your troopers can gather some arms in there. Then I suggest we head up to the president's office and get to the bottom of this mess."



OOC:
Okay we have Major Tara "Gold Lion" Oulith (Gold company commander) and 8 guys with us. Two of them I named in a previous post (Sheldon and Leo) but the other 6 are up for grabs if you would like to mention one specifically in your post, or they can just be red shirt number 1, 2, 3 etc. We all need to go to the presidents office. (President, Randolph Zera, heir to the ZeraCorp corporation and family fortune). How we are getting there is totally up to you just don't make it too long. And the one rule is that when we get there, we find poor Randolph dead. How he got that way, again totally up to you. All the information we need is on his computer, and lucky us we brought a slicer. After this all of us with Gold company will be storming the zeracorp factory where the NR guys (like two squads worth) are hiding out. I think thats enough info to get ya'll going. IRC me if you have any questions.
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
Sergeant Major || RAIDERS Squad Leader|| ARC Lead || Wildcard Platoon Adjutant
SL||SGM HAVOCK||2SQD||1PLT||1COM||1BAT||1RGT||VEA||VE
{RES} [EW1] [DoH-P] [AS-1] [BC] [RoT] [RoM] [KAD] [GS] [AoT] [HoTC] [ESC09]
ARC1||SGM WHISKEY||ARC TEAM THETA||VE
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Brightstar
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Brightstar
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
May 15, 2010 12:30:12 AM    View the profile of Brightstar 
'Cat grinned at the sight of Major Oulith. It had been a few years but the older woman still had that wild air about her. Wildcat leaned against the bars that made up half the room. She kept her weapon tight in her hand. "Major, if you don't mind my saying it. You haven't changed a bit." 'Cat said.

The Major turned to look at the graceful woman. Her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to remember something. A small smile formed on her lips and she nodded to Wildcat. "You just don't see the gray hairs, Little Kitty." She said then turned to her own troopers, "Ok my lambs, arm up with the weapons in the next room. We got places to go and people to see."

'Cat watched as the Major and her troopers made their way into the room that ARC had just come from. She watched them all closely to see if their time caged up had caused any lasting effects. She may not have been a medic but she was good at spotting anything that might be off with someone. Oulith herself seemed constantly on the prowl tired of waiting and wanting action.

"What do you think?" Whiskey asked coming up to her.

"I think the Major has been caged for too long." Wildcat muttered. "And the others appear to be ready for retribution as well. But I'm no expert. That's the Jester's area." She looked at Whiskey but she didn't take her helmet off. "I think we shouldn't linger very long or they will leave without us."

The ARC Lead laughed and she nodded. "ARC round up. We're going to mingle a bit. Jericho!"

The slicer looked up from his datapad. "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Find us a way to the president's office. The quickest and less troublesome route you can find." Jericho nodded at the orders and got to work. Wildcat took the mingling orders seriously and found herself standing beside a Gold Company trooper as he picked up a modified E-11 blaster and checked its battery.

He glanced up at her as she knelt beside the dead man and checked his wrists for the blades she knew were there by the outlines. She took the knives and handed them to the trooper before checking the dead man's boots. "I'm Sanfu," He said in a deep and gravelly voice. 'Cat looked up at him. If she remembered some of her language lessons right, this man's name meant Mountain Tiger.

He looked like a Mountain Tiger too. He had steal gray streaks in his otherwise black hair, black tattooed stripes on his forehead and face and also on his bare arms. She imagined that he had the same tattoos on his hands and legs as well. His eyes were a greenish yellow color and he had three scars that looked like they were caused by claws on his left cheek.

"Wildcat." She replied handing him the two other knives she'd taken from the dead man's boots. "But mostly everyone just calls me 'Cat. What do they call you? Surely it isn't Sanfu all the time?"

"No, the Major usually just calls me Fu or Tiger." He said his smile revealed even and well cared for white teeth and the smile reached his eyes. Cat could tell that he was a good man just from that. "Thanks for the help by the way. I'd have never figured to check the boots."

"Don't mention it." Cat said standing and making her way back to the rest of the squad.

"Ok, Boss Lady," Jericho said coming up to Whiskey and Major Oulith. Wildcat joined them. "I think I found a fairly quick route up to the president's office but I can't guarantee that it'll be an easy on. Also it'll be a bit of a tight fit. We'll have to go two by two." The slicer showed the women the schematics. Wildcat hissed when she saw the dimensions. She hated tight spaces.

"If we get through quickly, Cat, I promise you can kill the bastard that designed this building." Whiskey said putting a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"How about the person responsible for taking the Major and her troopers?" She said squaring her shoulders. "I'll settle for that bastard."

Oulith laughed and patted Cat's armored shoulder. "Sergeant you haven't changed a bit either."

"Well time to get this show on the road. Or in this case up the stairs." Whiskey said. "ARC! Form up!" Cat sighed and took her a spot behind Gecko. She knew her eyes were good but the Trando had eye sight capabilities that she didn't. And this group needed all the help they could get.

As they got moving up the stairwell that would lead them to their destination Gold Company and ARC intertwined themselves with the others. Sanfu was placed up front at the Major's request. So he settled in beside Gecko and winked back at Cat.

Wildcat shuddered at how tight it was and sighed. "Here we go. Into the belly of the beast." She muttered.

"And out of the demon's ass." Target said behind her. She shook her head at his antics and started moving.
TRP/SGT Brightstar D'Jonoc/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1REG/VEA/VE[SRP][SCA][AS-2][ES1]{RES}[EW2]

"For your sake, I really hope that isn't a challenge."


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Corvin
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Corvin
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
May 25, 2010 10:18:52 PM    View the profile of Corvin 
There was a brief buzzing noise, which stopped as soon as Zoe pressed the activation button on her comlink. The Republic corporal glanced from side to side, making sure there was no one in sight other than her two subordinates, then spoke into the device.

"Allendyne here."

"Zoe." the other person replied, his voice laced with static. "Seems things aren't going smooth."

"You could say that, sir." the Corporal said flatly. "The Imperials are already here, somewhere in the building, and there's no reply from the holding cells. Zera's going ballistic."

"Well, that's not going to be our problem for much longer." the squad leader said grimly. "Captain's pulling Calypso back, and wants you to take care of any evidence here 'fore you do the same."

"'Take care of' , sir?"

"Orders are for you and the others to slot Zera, destroy any info about the operation, then get back up to the Needle. Don't like it much myself, but the Captain was quite specific."

"Understood, sir."

"Good luck, Zoe. Reynolds out."

The com-channel closed with a burp of static.

The Tranquility Squad ASL stared at the com-device for a moment, eyes distant, then blinked and dropped it back into her belt pouch.

"You heard that?" she asked bluntly, turning to face her subordinates. Two of them nodded in tandem, their coats still clean and new, while the third simply snorted, flipping off the safety on the long-barreled rifle he was cradling.

"Good. We do this quiet if possible, get in and back out before they figure out something's wrong. Don't shoot unless I give the order. Understand?"

"Got it, ma'am." the third trooper grinned. "We getting started any time soon?"

"As a matter of fact, we are, Harrier. Now. And lower that rifle before someone sees you. Rendall, Winston, you two hang back slightly. Weapons lowered until I say so."

The two rookie troopers nodded again, hastily moving to follow the ASL's orders. Zoe repressed a sigh; the two fresh troopers were hardly a replacement for the squad's losses on Atlas. Still, they'd improve over time. Hopefully.

Zera was several floors above them, in his private penthouse at the very top of Tower Three. Shouldn't be too hard to get inside; it wasn't the first time they'd been up there. It was getting back out once they were done that was the hard bit.

"Squad, move out. Let's put on a good show."

====

The first sign that things weren't going according to plan was the blaster turret. The cannon tore huge chunks from the floor and ceiling, blew out several of the the inter-tower bridge's windows, and cut down a Gold Company trooper before anyone could react. The ARCs reacted instantly, moving behind the support pillars along the corridor-bridge, with Gold Company following a moment later. The Major swore as a blaster bolt narrowly missed her, ducking behind a support and barking orders to her subordinates.

"Fenchly's down!" Sanfu called, kneeling by the trooper and seemingly oblivious to the firefight. A moment later, he shook his head, then got back to his feet started to return fire.

"Frak! They've got an E-Web!" Target yelled, spraying a burst from his rifle down the corridor. A second volley of cannon fire forced him to duck behind the nearest pillar.

"You really are quite perceptive, aren't you?" one of the Gold Company troopers remarked from nearby, eye pressed to his rifle's sight. The rusting E-11 had been modified, the scope replaced with one from a civilian hunting rifle, and the ZeraCorp logo carved into its stock. “Do you do parties?"

Target blinked, trying to process the non-sequitur. A blaster bolt flew past his head, and he jerked back around, inadvertently avoiding a second bolt by doing so.

"Never mind." the trooper sighed. "Got you, you bas-"

The rest of the sentence was cut off by a deafening roar and wave of heat. There were screams from the end of the corridor, and a burning ZeraCorp trooper stumbled down the hallway, hands flailing at his body. Someone shot him.

“Wha-“ Target stammered.

“Hit the power cells.” The trooper grinned. “Idiots were all bunched up around the cannon.”

Target just nodded dumly.

“Dremmond, stop gloating and start moving!” the Major yelled.

The trooper shrugged, then moved towards the Major. Still taken aback, Target followed a moment later when Havock gestured for the ARCs to move ahead and check the bodies. Some of the ZeraCorp enforcers had survived, albeit with critical injuries. The ARC troopers put them down with single shots and their multi-tools.

“Looks clear.” Havock reported. “It’s safe to move up, Major.”

The Gold troopers had emerged from their cover and were cautiously moving towards the end of the corridor. The walls were now scorched and blackenned, and there was a whistling noise as the wind blew through the shattered windows. Somewhere in the Tower ahead, an alarm had started to blare.

====

Corporal Allendyne stopped moving as she heard the whine of the alarm echoing down the stairwell.

Ta made, she muttered as she stepped through the doorway at the top.  “Imperials.”

Rendall and Winston exchanged glances, and even Harrier looked slightly worried.

“Move.” Allendyne barked, and the republic fireteam strode into the lobby.

There were groups of ZeraCorp enforcers, building security, and even a few of the President’s personal guard in the expansive lobby, running about in every direction and shouting to one another. No one challenged the Republic troopers, however.

The fire team pushed its way through the crowd, with most of the Zera employees hastily moving out of the way of the four longcoated troopers very noticeably holding blasters.

Making their way to the central door, the troopers passed a pair of guards, who saluted the troopers, and walked down the thick-carpeted corridor. Zoe led the way, her blaster shotgun held casually in one hand.

The Republic Corporal’s face was impassive, giving away no emotion or indication of her intentions. Harrier followed directly behind her, knuckles turning white as they gripped his rifle barrel.

Several corridors later, the squad came to another guarded door. The left trooper shook his head as the Republic troopers approached.

"You can't go inside. The President isn't see-"

Zoe brought her hogleg up and fired. The guard's body fell limply, leaving a trail of ash on the wall and fine carpet.

The blast door was sealed, but Zera had given Mal and the Captain the access code early in their partnership. Zoe keyed the combination in, then stood back as the doors slid open.

Randolph Zera looked up from the holotable, a look of surprise and relief on his bloated face.

"Zoe! I'm so very glad to see you!" he chortled. "I must thank Mal later, yes? Have you killed the Imperial intruders yet?"

Randolph trailed off as he finally registered the grim looks on the fire team's faces, the raised weapons, and the tang of a recently fired blaster. Shaking slightly, the President looked from face to face, eyes darting this way and that as he looked for an escape route.

"Please..." he whispered. "Please don't. What do you want? I have mon-"

There was a whine, and he trailed off, eyes bulging as he stared at the hole in his chest. Impassive, Corporal Allendyne fired again.

Slowly, Randolph Zera toppled over, falling out of his hoverchair and onto his carpet. The fine fabric was stained red around his body as he twitched, gasping for breath for several moments before going still.

Zoe waited for him to stop moving, then strode over to the holotable. Pulling a datapad from her belt, she connected it to the projector and activated a program stored on the device.

The screen blinked, then data started to scroll over it as it copied and erased the projector's memory banks. Nearby, the other troopers were doing the same.

"Are we done here?" Harrier asked eventually. Zoe nodded.

"We're leaving. Just one last thing to take care of."

The Corporal tossed a thermal detonator in one hand.

====

The fire team was halfway down the hallway when the grenade went off. Debris and clouds of dust flew down the hallway, covering the group's coats with ash.

There was no response from the ZeraCorp guards in the lobby, which was the first sign that something had gone wrong. The sound of echoing blasterfire was the second.

"Gohham Imperials." Harrier muttered.

"Check your weapons." Zoe said grimly, gesturing for the troopers to spread out. Mentally, she cursed herself for using her only thermal detonator back in Zera's private room.

The Imperials were finishing off the last few survivors when Zoe's fireteam burst through the doorway. One of the enemy troopers, a man dressed in a ragged uniform and wielding an E-11 with a modified scope, spotted them and started to yell a warning. Harrier took his head off with a burst.

The other Imperials reacted instantly, raising their weapons and opening fire. Harrier cackled as he took down another trooper, and abruptly stopped as a round hit him in the face and sent him sprawling.

Zoe twitched, just managing to stop herself from calling for one of the others to help him. Most of the veteran's head was missing; he'd been dead before he hit the floor.

Time to play her trump card.

====

Target smiled grimly as he saw one of the newcomers collapse with most of his head gone. Whoever these troopers were, they should probably have looked into helmets. A pool of blood was spreading from Dremmond's body, staining the lobby tiles.

"For the Empire!" he yelled, and several Gold Company troopers echoed the call.

Then a pair of grenades flew through the air, pinging as they skittered across the floor tiles.

"Frak." Target said, then fell to the floor, twitching madly as electricy coursed through his body. There were yells from the other ARCs as the ion grenade's detonation shut down their weapons and suit systems.

Thick, white smoke filled the lobby, obscuring his squad members and the Gold Company troopers from sight.

Target managed to regain control of his body moments later, pulling himself back up. His HUD had gone dead, and his helmet now did little more than obscure his vision. The smoke blocked everything.

Target saw an outline moving through the fog, with two others following directly behind it.

Dropping his deactivated rifle, the trooper lunged, hands reaching for the figure's neck. It sidestepped, then ,almost as an afterthought, slammed it's shotgun butt into his faceplate.

Target fell back down, momentarily stunned, and could only watch as the figures ran past, vanishing into the smoke.

OOC:
So the squad splits up, maybe? One group finds Zera, the other chases the troopers as they try to escape? That, or just find Zera?
ETRP/CPL Corvin/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE[ESC09][AoT][IH][HotC]
~BLACKJACK~
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Read the bloody manual!
"Never believe a rumour of my demise. I have as many lives as a cat. Also as many teeth, as many claws, and the same cheery, cooperative disposition." Peter Wiggin, Xenocide
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"The Committee has also voted to change the name of the position, simply because no one liked the fact that its accronym spelled out Noo. "
[This message has been edited by Corvin (edited May 25, 2010 10:22:50 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Corvin (edited May 25, 2010 10:28:12 PM)]
Brightstar
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Brightstar
 
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
June 1, 2010 12:35:28 AM    View the profile of Brightstar 
Cat gasped and tore off her helmet, her vibrant red hair cascaded out of her helmet falling neatly to her shoulders. She looked up in time to hear a muffled thud as someone hit the floor. She cursed the smoke and stood. She barely had time to gather her barrings before the outlines of several enemy troopers came into her focus.

"Frathur!" She swore in her native tongue. She dropped into a defensive stance making the most of the shadows of the dancing smoke and the column behind which she'd been taking cover.

The moment the NR troopers were close enough to engage Wildcat did so. She sprang forward with a wild growl, and slammed her fist into an unsuspecting man's jaw, just under the ear. The man dropped to his knees. Cat was already moving on to the next one. That is where she came up short. Her mistake was looking into the eyes of the woman she was facing.

If it hadn't been for her momentum, Cat would have stopped in her tracks instead her opponent used her momentum against her and slammed her back into the column. Air rushed out of Cat's lungs but more from the face in front of her rather than what she had just been slammed up against. If Cat hadn't known better she'd have thought she was staring into the face of her mother. Her beloved a
nd ever supportive mother, who as far as Cat knew, had never raised he hand against a single soul.

But the bewildered young woman knew who this was. "Zoe?" She gasped. She'd not seen her for several years but there was absolutely no mistaking those features. The woman looked as stunned as Cat felt. She'd taken a few quick steps back, her eyes wide. The smoke was beginning to clear and now Cat could see clearly. "It can't be you. You...you...how?"

Never before had Cat felt so lost for words. Zoe recovered from the initial shock quickly but she continued to blink. "I don't know you." But there was a flash of indecision in Zoe's steady brown eyes.

Cat blinked, and suddenly she remembered why her mother and father never seemed to talk about her older sister. Sure she had been the youngest but Zoe had been directly above her in the line of children. The last time either of them had seen each other had been on a battlefield that had ravaged their home. Zoe had been charged with keeping Cat safe. Neither one of them had seen the mortar that had come from above. In the ensuing chaos both sisters had been separated and Cat had assumed her big sister dead. It was clear now that Zoe had assumed the same of her little sister.

Here they both were again on the battlefield, this time on opposite sides. How time had changed them. Cat knew that she would not survive an all out fist fight with Zoe. She would hesitate too much and she lacked the will to kill a sister she had assumed already dead. She shifted her weight as she stood. "Well don't just stand there, if you're going to shoot me then get it over with." Cat said her face suddenly hard again.

Zoe blinked once, twice and then once more. She let out a breath that Cat was unaware she'd been holding. The older woman shook her head and with a sad smile she slammed the butt of her rifle hard into Cat's ribs. The ARC trooper felt bone break. Her air left her a second time and she unwillingly doubled over. Her face met with the rifle butt again as Zoe brought it across her face.

Cat dropped to the ground almost instantaneously. On the ground and facing a hostile, her training overrode her feelings and she kicked out but missed. Over the rushing in her head, Cat heard. "Sorry, Rica." And then a sound accompanied by a burning in her gut.

=========

Wildcat barely registered that Zoe had gone when she heard someone calling her name. She knew that voice right? Jester? No, Whiskey. She felt a hand on her neck.

"She's alive? Hell she should be dead."Cat couldn't place that voice.

"You actually sound surprised." A harsh feminine voice said from somewhere above her. "Whiskey, this woman has survived far more than you give her credit for." Despite the brave words in her favor, Wildcat could hear the deep concern in the Major's voice.

"Major Oulith, Sergeant Major Whiskey, We found Zera." Cat opened her eyes and turned her head stiffly in the direction of that voice. Sanfu looked pale but resolute. He stiffened only slightly under Oulith's stare. "He's dead. Probably during the firefight."

"Frak!" Whiskey yelled.

"Boss! She's awake." Jester said looking down at Cat with wide worried eyes.

"Cat, I will kill you for getting yourself injured so thoroughly." Whiskey said, her face coming into focus. "What am I going to do with you?" She asked.

Cat closed her eyes for a moment. She knew it was probably a bad idea to move at all let alone what she knew had to be done. "Well you could help me up. What about the info we need?" She asked as Whiskey, with much protest from Jester, helped the twenty-six year old warrior woman to her feet.

"Looks like a thermal detonator went off in that office. We were barely able to identify Zera." Jericho said puffing on an ever present lungblaster. "I'm afraid even as talented as I am, I'm not talented enough to get anything from that mess."

Standing on her own two feet, Cat sighed. She closed her eyes and winced everytime she took a breath. "Jester, please stop prattling on about medical procedure and just give me some pain meds." She looked at Whiskey then at Oulith. "We still gotta finish this right?"

The ARC SL pursed her lips and nodded. "We lost some time, but I don't think we lost too much time. We can follow Gecko's transponder code. He followed some of the bastards out. I'm just glad the equipment seems to be working now." She looked at Jericho.

"He seems to have stopped here." He said holding up his datapad and pointing at a section of interconnected alley ways. Across from that appeared to be a series of smaller buildings and then a larger one.

"Those are going to be a problem." Sanfu said pointing out the smaller buildings.

The rest of them that could see nodded. "My money is on that bigger building though." The Major said. "We should go. You going to be good Little Kitty?"

Cat smiled at the familiar nickname and nodded. The action sent her reeling but she kept it together. "This is going to screw up my balance." She muttered as she shuffled forward.

"Hey thats what big guys like me are here for." Sanfu said with a smile. He put a weapon in her left hand and kept her standing by clamping his left hand around her right arm.

Cat heard a snort behind her and without aiming whipped her weapon around and blasted a hole in the column several centimeter's from Target's face. "I didn't have to miss, you know."

The zealous man's eyes widened for a moment but like the elite soldier that he was, Target didn't flinch. Cat swayed a bit then she clenched her jaw as her and Sanfu took point.

=======

"What the hell was that back there?" Zoe's eyes remained focused on the building in front of her and her team. She also completely ignored the question that had been asked of her. She took a deep breath and kept walking.

How could Rica still be alive? She was sure that her sister had been killed the day. They had both been so young. She thought she had buried this. She thought she'd let go of all that guilt. Now to see that Rica had survived as she had. It all came floating to the surface. What was worse was her baby sister was fighting with the Imperials. How could she? She scowled more and quickened her pace.

Had she actually intended to kill the woman that looked so much like their father, she'd have done it with one blow. Zoe, had a feeling that Rica had survived so much more than what she'd just received from her.

Focus on the mission, Zoe. She thought to herself. She would give those Imperial scum everything she could dish out now. They had corrupted her sister, and they were going to pay for that transgression dearly.

OOC:
Ok if I did anything wrong with the NPC's let me know I will do my best to fix it. This is the best I can do for you Havvie. I ran out of muse. And I'm tired. Anyway, Zoe and her fireteam made it to a specified building so the NR are all in place. As far as our side goes. Gecko is the beacon that we are following, Wildcat is severely injured but she plans on still fighting. As far as I know Gold Company is down like three or four troopers. But other than that we are making our way into the finale of our mission.
TRP/SGT Brightstar D'Jonoc/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1REG/VEA/VE[SRP][SCA][AS-2][ES1]{RES}[EW2]

"For your sake, I really hope that isn't a challenge."


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Havock
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Havock
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant Major
 
Post Number:  735
Total Posts:  2413
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  RE: ARC: A New Beginning
June 13, 2010 5:32:18 PM    View the profile of Havock 
"Sergeant!" Jason "Raven" Sykes had one hell of a headache. He stomped towards their forward headquarters and only groaned when he heard the private yelling for him. Jason punched the door open with his fist and fell into the dusty chair starting to furiously type on the terminal at the desk.

A young woman came running in the room and had to lean over to catch her breath. "Sergeant."

"Private." He didn't even glance up, just continued to type hoping the terminal held the answer to the question all of his squad leaders were asking him. It happened just over an hour ago. The riots slowed then just stopped. Every squad went on instant alert, scouring the intel for the location of the next riot. As the minutes ticked by they all started to come to the same conclusion, large scale assault had to be the plans. Jason already assumed at this point the riots were more than they seemed to be so it fit for him too. The city was put on almost lock down, snipers deployed and the squads were stretched as thin as they could be so almost every street was covered. And there they had sat...for almost an hour. The guys were sure to be getting twitchy by now.

"Sir, comm for you."

Raven rolled his eyes. "Private I know you are following orders. So with all due respect I'm in no mood for another whiny Squad Leader right now, tell them to hold their damn position and quit complaining or I will find some trash compactor they can clean out for their next exciting mission."

The privates voice dropped to a whisper and she seemed to seriously consider just following his orders and leaving. "Sir, on the comm, its Major Oulith."

That got his attention.

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

"He sure is taking his sweet time." Leo muttered under his breath.

The group was tracking Gecko's signal through the tunnels which it appeared they would end up in the city above very soon. Whiskey knew that once they arrived they would be dealing with an assault on one of the many buildings they had seen topside. After all the darkness and the crazy ass Zera Headquarters she didn't mind all that much a simple assault on an office building.

Jericho had been speaking to the Major almost the entire walk. Now it wasn't much of a conversation in the traditional sense, neither one of them were individuals of many words. He was currently helping the obviously annoyed Major contact her platoon commander.

A very unsure voice crackled through the open comms. "Major?"

"Oh don't let me interrupt your coffee break Sergeant Sykes, I can wait."

They reached the end of the tunnel they had been traveling in. Whiskey put her glow rod in her mouth and climbed the metal ladder protruding from the side of the dark wall. The grate had been opened recently which meant they were on the right trail. She pushed the circular door open and heard it slam to the street above. "Up we go, Lads."

"Major, I didn't know that you were rescued."

Her voice was sharp and caused every member of the team to grab their ears as it pierced through the comms. "Rescued! I did not get rescued. I was provided an escort. Now what is your situation?"

"Okay according to this Gecko should be in that building right there." Wildcat gestured as best she could towards a tall greenish building almost directly in front of them. The word "Dtech" was visible above the doors and there was little else that distinguished the building from any other in the capital city.

The streets were eerily quiet and deserted which just made Whiskey nervous as hell. She turned back to the Major as they reached the last intersection before they would cross the street and enter the building which rather than holding a technology company actually was filled with NR soldiers.

"Major, the riots have all but stopped. We have deployed in defensive patterns throughout the city and..."

Major Oulith waved her hand as if Sergeant Sykes was in front of her rather than on the other side of the city. "Yes, yes, yes. Well forget that now. I want all squads, and I mean everyone of them to head to the coordinates I'm sending you now. There is no need to be subtle right now."

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

"Zoe, what the hell is that?"

The second in command came in the room obviously pissed off and tossed what appeared to be a badly injured trandoshan unceremoniously to the floor. Gecko fell in a heap to the floor and started to cough from the painful wounds in his shoulder and hip.

"Caught this ass hole tracking us, doubled back on him once we were inside the building and got the jump on him. Bastard took out Gerod before we got him down though."

Reynolds didn't look up from the terminal he was working on. "And you checked him for tracking devices?"

Zoe didn't answer. Reynolds cursed in three languages and finished the message he was sending. "I guess its a race then. Nothing like some running to get the blood to pumping."

"I had a good lead on them sir. We should be okay."

Then a blast shook the entire building. "Suppose that'll be them knocking at the door now then." Mal grabbed his coat and stamped towards the exit.

"Whats the plan sir?"

"We get our guys and get the hell out of here. Always know when you need to live to fight another day Zoe."

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

ARC was on point. Major Oulith had fallen back to regroup with Gunnery Sergeant Sykes and the rest of Gold Company. After they broke through the hastily prepared defenses in the building the team immediately made for the top floor and left the troopers to deal with anyone shooting at them.

Whiskey used her shoulder to ram through the door, which in hindsight wasn't the smartest thing she had ever done. Shots screeched by her head sending her slamming to the floor to avoid them. Jester scurried on the floor past her making a mad dash for Gecko who was laying on the floor several feet from the door.

They made quick work of the last visage of the NR presence on Arkania. Whiskey rose from the floor and turned to ask Jester about Gecko when a figure caught the corner of her eye. A tall woman stepped into the open doorway which led to the stairs up to the roof. Her heavy blaster came up immediately and she seemed to flinch in Wildcat's direction for a split second, but it was only a split second. Wildcat yelled something and nailed Whiskey with her shoulder sending the team leader face first to the floor.

She looked up from the ground to see the Zoe wince and grab her side, a large scorch mark on her torso. She cursed and limped back up the stairs. Whiskey smirked and started to get up only to have Wildcat fall almost directly on her. "Dammit, Jester."

"Gecko's a goner, I'll see what I can do about her." Whiskey scratched her head and shifted from foot to foot.

"Son of a...Target. Jericho. Let's go."

Target was practically already up the stairs yelling as usual. Whiskey followed the two men as quickly as she could, she was having trouble shaking the twisting feeling in her stomach over Wildcat. The two woman had grown close over the course of the mission, but what was new everyone close to her died. It was becoming a cliche in her life.

"DAMMIT." Target's voice was the only thing she could hear over the roar of an engine. She walked the final few steps to see the small transport rise from the roof and head for the atmosphere. Target was squeezing off shots like a madman, she walked up and put her hand on his shoulder. "It's over, stop waisting ammo."

"Grah! How? We're letting them go?"

Whiskey scoffed. "We have driven them from the planet. Unless you can fly, and really if you can that should be in your bio, they are gone for now. I can promise you one thing. We cross paths with them again, their asses are mine."


OOC:
Fin.
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
Sergeant Major || RAIDERS Squad Leader|| ARC Lead || Wildcard Platoon Adjutant
SL||SGM HAVOCK||2SQD||1PLT||1COM||1BAT||1RGT||VEA||VE
{RES} {MRT} [EW1] [DoH-P] [AS-1] [BC] [RoT] [RoM] [KAD] [GS] [AoT] [HoTC] [ESC09]
ARC1||SGM WHISKEY||ARC TEAM THETA||VE
Certified Vehicle Crewman
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