OOC:

Short, not the best, but I must owe someone a post by now.

Jamasis rose wearily and made his way out of the briefing room. Damn you Ani, why did you have to leave. I'm the youngest member in the squad but right now I've been in it longest. Anival leaving had been a surprise for him. It wasn't like people had never left before; Anival was the only one who hadn't left or joined while he was in the squad. But even so... It was Anival who had welcomed him into the squad, who had promoted him, who had depended on him, and vice-versa, and together they had been through a hell of a lot.

The tank? Remember the tank? he thought to himself.

Yeah, one of the many times you should have died.

I didn't even get shot that time. But I guess I'm not alone whilst you're still here.

Same person.

I doubt you'd help much anyway.

He thought about the sudden influx of new squad members. Well, they weren't new; half the squad had served longer than him. Mai he had no idea about. She was clearly different to any of the previous squad leaders he had had; but that could be a good thing. Marka seemed alright as a person, and even being around him offered a kind of reassurance. Zippy he had met before, a while back. Khalldryn and Nightowl had been in the squad long enough for him to rely on them. They had been here longest, save him, even if that may only mean a mission or two. Lukas might be a bit of a loose cannon, but then he'd never really met him. Jegora he seemed to remember fighting with before. No real worries there.

Either way, the squad seemed secure. But it felt emptier now; less heart in it. Artificial? That works well. Previously it always felt like fighting and risking your life with people you knew damn well. Now it felt different.

"To hell with it," Jamasis muttered to himself. "Grab your guns, armour and just get going." After a minutes thought he took his two DC-15's and the newer SCOPE rifle. New maybe, but nobody could deny it was effective. He glanced up at a nearby clock.

"Two hours minus ten minutes to go? I hate waiting for a mission to start." Without looking around he lit up a ciggarette and was lost in thought again.

Unreadably passive as his features often were, Marka’s marginal disappointment at the display before him was lost on all but himself. He checked the time once more. Fifteen minutes had passed by since the beginning of the spar in the centre of the training arena; two raw recruits fought with practice swords to the heckles and cheers of the punters surrounding them. It was a particularly clumsy mess of loosely-guessed tactics and uninspired improvisation. As the minutes wore on, fists abound tightened around the spectators’ tickets as the two men fought to a stalemate. Marka was far from surprised that the ever-escalating hubbub surrounding the bout was focused on the lack of significant strikes from either combatant, as if such was the result of great warriors of supreme, but equal skill. Yet the Wraith ASL, more accustomed to the dancing of blades than the collective experience of anyone yet to approach the fight, could only agree that there was indeed an equality in their amateurism.

Drawing his gaze away from the contest, Marka sought out something less unattractive to distract his attention until the inevitable uproar of the winning bet-holders rang out in lingering intensity.

There was some sort of miniscule flying insect close-by on the wall. Marka’s expression was lifelessly uninterested. The shaky clanging of blades became an effective sedative.

It was this reason that the androgynous teen standing beside Marka was ignored until the courier ventured a hand forward and tapped his shoulder.

The touch was startling, and brought to a close a vivid scenario of the wall insect, having received whispered instructions, flying into the ear of one of the fighters and giving him the necessary knowledge to hurry up and win the fight he was involved in. Once again senses were alert and all manner of muscles primed, and Marka’s shadowy deep brown eyes swivelled toward what had now become a constant drumming on his shoulder.

“Sir,” the courier began, “you have a datapad from Platoon Commander Havock.” The courier’s deceptively neutral voice did nothing to reveal the gender of the human. As the datapad came into view in the courier’s outstretched hand, Marka lowered his eyes, hoping the hands would be more revealing.

Gloves.

By the time the Wraith had given a nod of appreciation and tucked the datapad away beside his thigh, the mysteriously asexual courier had disappeared. Fascinating as the mystery was, Marka had somehow managed to remain oblivious to the end of the sparring beside him, the scrawnier of the combatants having miraculously summoned some meagre amount of common sense and landed a blow. Applause and jeers were still erupting as cheap levels of credits were transferred between folk.

So Marka spent the next half hour finding Mai, his Squad Leader, briefing the rest of the squad, and travelling back to the Wraith barracks.

It took only a few minutes to gather the essentials and depart, determined to utilise the little time he had left before he would be expected on the shuttle.

With a hastened stride Marka sifted through the omnipresence of Army life that swelled and crashed around him like great waves upon the shore; he bumped more shoulders, scuffed more feet in those few moments than anywhere else he had travelled in his time. Elsewhere, such contact may be cause for objection, accusation of inebriation, or otherwise general clumsiness as if it were a sin. Here, though, the constant of the lively swarm had suppressed the senses, the tempers. It was all familiar enough to go by unnoticed. But now the shuffling grind of feet against the floor was haunting to him, a new paranoia.

In the depths of Marka’s mind, every nameless face that passed him by was transformed, skin yellowed, and the hurried steps because the limped gait of the undead he had only recently left behind. Perhaps that was the true design of the creature; fear. To infect.

A break in the flow of bodies opened up, and Marka grasped it, slipping away from the flock and slipping through the door, unsure of where it led.

It was darkened, the ceiling lights deliberately dimmed, with a pale ivory circle dominating the otherwise uninterestingly black floor. Around him, the walls were perfectly curved making the room into a squat cylinder. It held a particular malevolence when coupled with Marka’s present mindset, as if its seamless walls inexplicably housed yet more reanimated vessels prepared to feast. Fighting this notion, however, he soldiered on to the centre tile, intent upon desensitising himself to this newfound weakness. Only children feared nightmares. It was all a dream.

His legs folded under him, knees descending upon the floor, silent in the dark; as if at prayer to beg for the will to change. But Marka’s attentions centred inward, setting his bags beside himself and reaching with only mild curiosity to the dimly flickering lights near his left knee. As he pushed his gloves finger into the singular button beside it, what light there was above ceased and cast all into shadow. The dark was a thick, heavy blanket weighing down on all it touched.

But all at once there was a light, a hope. On the far wall, a single pinpoint of white light faded into existence, followed sooner still by another dozen, and another. With the barest of warnings, stars burst into view, glittering in simple magnificence, scattered all over the floor and the ceiling and the walls. Then, before Marka’s very eyes, the great black hole at the centre of the Deep Core, at the centre of the galaxy itself, rose out of nothingness, and every planet followed suit, until the Wraith ASL was sitting like a god at the centre of the galaxy. He looked down over the worlds before him as each organism worked in intricate detail.

There was an unexpected comfort in his surroundings, each projected planet and system reminding him of the very real life that the galaxy had long been awash with. From the dankest hovels of villainy to the pure, glinting peaks of ice-capped mountains, there was life everywhere. Real life. Unperverted, beginning and end life.

Marka was the last to join the squad outside the hanger, taking his place along the wall with his usual unconcerned confidence, now reinforced by a half hour of meditation amongst the stars. He sat, one leg cocked up onto an arbitrary little platform, gazing with deep appreciation at the curved end of his blade, only occasionally lifting his eyes to survey the squad around him. But it was not long before his thoughts were interrupted by the all-clear, and Jegora’s immense frame slipped out through the door with the most calculated of steps.

Mai was next, and Wraith followed close behind.

OOC:

Hey guys sorry bout the inactivity, I'm back in action now so here we go! Sorry if its a bit short or rusty.

This is gonna be one long mission...but I've been through worse, Lukas thought to himself. On the way to the LZ, Lukas had read about the Black Sun Organization. They were pretty much the most notorious crime syndicate in the whole entire galaxy. Lukas didn't mind this, he actually liked a worthy enemy in battle so this would be very interesting, he thought to himself as he suited up.

Lukas had served with Mai and Jegora in the short stint he had been with Jester squad before it had been shut down. He was familiar with how they operated so he could back them up any way he could. As far as the rest of the squad, Lukas had not met any of the new personnel until now so he studied them carefully like he always did with anyone else and kept to himself.

The transports engines roared and whined as the aircraft would land in about five minutes with Wraith squad and company in tow. Lukas pulled down the compartment to reveal what was inside, it was the ugly, snow white storm trooper armor. He donned it regardless only because he was ordered to do so. After putting the armor on, Lukas inspected the weapons and knew they would be standard issue.

Funny thing was....Lukas had never actually worn a regular storm trooper set of armor. It wasn't all that different from the one he had become accustomed to wearing, although it was slightly more bulky. He shrugged it off and waited for the rest of the squad to suit up and find out what was going on next.

Lukas walked over to one of the transports view ports and looked out for a few moments to see what the environment was like. The sky was very polluted with green, yellow, and red gas clouds swirling about. He also saw massive industry plants scattered all around the continent.

The Black Sun Organization and a little girl are what lie ahead of them on this mission..it sure would be an interesting one and Lukas couldn't wait to see the fear in their opponent's eyes as they engage them in battle.

Jegora, Marka, and Khalldryn made their way through Eriadu’s main city with little difficulty. This particular part of the metropolis was well under Vast Empire control. Its streets were orderly, its citizens loyal. In fact, driving through this part of Eriadu it was hard to imagine that there was unrest anywhere in the city. That was an illusion, of course. Jegora knew from his pre-mission briefings that if you went a few kilometers in either direction the neighbourhoods quickly degenerated almost to the point of lawlessness. It was in these neighbourhoods that the Black Sun had recently begun to initiate something of an insurgency against Vast Empire rule, and it was in one of these projects that the Wraiths would have to go in order to snatch their target.

For now, however, transit was easy and simple. Pedestrians stood aside to let the large military speeder pass without incident, and they even got a few smiles and waves from various beings as they passed. Other citizens, however, looked a little apprehensive. On some level, Jegora could sympathize with those individuals. He knew how intimidating Stormtroopers could be, knew the ruthless reputation that the white armor carried, and he guessed that even on an Imperial-controlled word—perhaps especially on an Imperial controlled world—the mere sight of a Stormtrooper was enough to strike fear into most people’s hearts.

His reverie was interrupted by Marka’s voice. “What can you tell me about this prisoner?” he inquired of the liaison assigned to the Wraith troopers.

The man, who was driving, thought for a minute before responding. “He’s a nasty piece of work,” the NCO responded. “Rik Journ is his name. He’s a mid-level enforcer for the Black Sun suspected on multiple counts of extortion, assault, the theft, and murder. Unfortunately, local authorities can’t prove any of that. We’re holding him on some thin legal pretext at the moment, but who knows how long that will last.”

“And after you releassse him, he will sssimply go right back to doing what he wasss doing, no?” Khalldryn asked, not really expecting an answer.

The NCO driving the speeder shrugged his shoulders. “The Army tries not to interfere with civilian authorities. My guess is yes, he’ll be released and go right back to enforcing for the Black Sun.”

Jegora spoke for the first time then, his voice soft and quiet. “Not this time,” he muttered mostly to himself. His words caused the driver to glance nervously at him, however, before returning his eyes to the road.

The rest of the short drive was spent in silence. After a few minutes the liaison officer pulled to a stop outside a fairly nondescript building. “We’re here,” he intoned, quite unnecessarily.

The three Wraiths hopped out of the speeder, Khalldryn with some difficulty, and followed the NCO inside the compound. From what Jegora could see once they were inside, the building was some kind of local civilian police headquarters. As their liaison spoke with a senior officer, Jegora noted the uncomfortable looks that many of the policemen were giving the three Stormtroopers. Even these people, individuals sworn to uphold the law, individuals that were supposedly on the same side, felt uneasy around the Stormtroopers. It was a sobering experience, but not one that Jegora let overly concern him. He couldn’t change the reputation of the armor he wore, nor did he want to. After all, it had proved effective so far.

After a quick conversation with the ranking officer, the NCO acting as a guide led the three Wraith troopers to the back of the facility and through a secure blast door. Once through the door the three Stormtroopers found themselves facing a series of holding cells, all but one of which were unoccupied.

“Meet Rik Journ,” the NCO said, his voice carefully devoid of all emotion. “Journ, meet your new keepers. They want to have a chat with you.”

A flicker of fear showed on Journ’s face before being quickly replaced with a look Jegora instantly recognized: contempt. “You can talk all you like,” the enforcer snarled at the Stormtroopers. “I ain’t sayin’ nothing.”

Marka motioned to the liaison officer, who quickly keyed the code to open the cell. As the cell door slid open, Journ was instantly up on his feet and moving towards the Stormtroopers. His hands and feet weren’t bound, and murder flashed in his eyes.

Jegora was already moving, even as the cell doors slid open. He met Journ just inside the cell doors, easily deflecting a wild right hook by the enforcer before counting with a short, vicious strike to the man’s throat. The man immediately began to drop to his knees, struggling to breathe. As Journ fell, Jegora brought his own armored knee up and smashed it into the man’s face, shattering his nose and knocking him out cold. He slumped to the floor, limp, blood flowing freely from his ruined face.

Jegora stood over the man, not even breathing hard. “See, I knew you would cooperate,” he said, his voice hard and cold and full of iron.

Marka was the first one to react, seconds later. “Khalldryn, bind him and get him to the speeder. We’ll continue our…discussion…back at the barracks.”

The giant Barabel moved to comply, binding the man’s hands and easily lifting the much smaller human off the floor. He didn’t even bother to flip him over a shoulder, carrying him instead in his arms as easily as an adult carries a small child. Despite his own considerable prowess, Jegora had to marvel at Khalldryn’s size and strength. In the giant reptilian Jegora saw almost unlimited potential as a warrior, if only the Barabel would accept his own physiology as a gift. So far, however, Khalldryn seemed somewhat reluctant to do so.

Once all three of the Stormtroopers and their NCO guide were loaded back onto the transport, they began to make the short trip back to their assigned barracks—this time with a passenger.

The patrol of Eriadu City by the remainder of Wraith Squad had been perfunctory, serving only to reinforce the cover of being a generic squad on rotation as opposed to offering any useful insight on the state of the population. In and around the barracks the streets were so clean it was almost unnatural, the grime and chaotic quality of a capital city swept into alleyways and dark corners beyond the sight of those potential dignitaries visiting the ‘safe’ world.

Having appointed Jamasis as acting ‘squad leader’ for the short march, Mai dawdled to the rear of the squad and played the part of the disobedient private in order to more effectively familiarize herself with the vast array of scents that made up the dulled flavor on the planet.  Even the overwhelming taint of the smog clogging up the blue sky above their heads could not quite mask the unique taste of the exotic. Even though she had traveled aboard countless starship cruisers from planet to planet she had rarely had the opportunity to venture beyond the air conditioned confines to experience the actual destinations. Since joining the Vast Empire she had taken every opportunity to relish in the sense of freedom she now experienced beyond the bowels of the hulking vessels that had served as a prison for so many years of her life.

So it was that she was trailing on Lukas’s heels and almost collided into his armored back as Jamasis raised a gloved hand and brought Wraith to an abrupt halt. Blinking her golden eyes in languid shock as she was brought back to reality, Mai sidestepped the broad back of the Senior Sergeant in order to better perceive what was causing the holdup. Before Wraith, in a casual semi arc, stood another stormtrooper squad bearing the bright red symbol of the local platoon.  Jamasis stood talking casually to the squad patrol’s leader, his manner confident enough not to draw attention.

But it was what was beyond the second patrol that drew Mai’s attention. A sleek blue airspeeder, its windows tinted dark so as to hide the inhabitants, lay on an angle on the side of the pathway safely out of the way of incoming traffic. The other squad leader gestured to the airspeeder, then to Jamasis, and then snapped a brief salute and span about to his men. Without another word the squad turned about and marched in the opposite direction, leaving Wraith alone with the broken down speeder.

“Report.”

Jamasis jumped slightly as Mai materialized at his shoulder. With a sigh made metallic by his helmet’s voice modulator he gestured with his rifle to the speeder, “This is apparently our problem now.”

“So let’s deal with it.” Mai growled, her tone influenced by the strange quality of the situation. She waited until Jamasis gestured for her and Lukas to move towards to speeder, then saluted in sync with the other trooper and trotted at a half-job towards the latent vehicle. As they moved within the space of a few meters Mai brought her rifle up to her shoulder in a seemingly casual movement and tapped the barrel of the weapon against the dark glass.

Almost immediately the window rolled down to reveal the carefully blank expression of a human male with an officer’s peak cap perched on a spotting patch of dark fur. Dark eyes slid from Mai to Lukas, then to the rest of the squad waiting patiently in the background before he spoke, “I take it you are Wraith squad.”

Mai’s eyes narrowed beneath her helmet as she considered the man, and the shadowy companion sitting at his side in the rear of the speeder. Making sure to keep her rifle at ready she leaned back and adopted a casual air, “Yes. You are dealing with Wraith Squad. And you are also posing a safety hazard by refusing to move your vehicle.”

“Little short for a stormtrooper aren’t you.” The man’s companion spoke up, his amusement clear.

“Height isn’t everything.” Mai snarled back at him, wearying of the game, “Now move the speeder.”

“Feisty Sergeant, as your record states.” The balding man spoke again, his gaze abruptly discerning, “A replacement speeder is on the way now that you’re here. We’d appreciate an escort back to the barracks if possible.”

Mai bared her teeth beneath her helmet at the two intelligence officers, and then turned to Lukas, “Tell Jamasis to oversee the removal of the speeder, then get back here. Any less than a two-man escort will be suspicious.” Lukas nodded and moved away while Mai looked back to the two ‘officers,’ “Is this really the best way to cross paths?”

“No.” The balding man shrugged his shoulders, “But our speeder actually broke down. So it is sufficient.”

As though summoned by the man’s words, another equally expensive speeder turned off from the flow of traffic and slipped into place before broken vehicle. The doors rose on their own accord, inviting Mai and the two agents in. Both men slipped out of the vehicle to reveal their full officer ensemble, complete with the rank badges of a Major and a 2nd Lieutenant. The balding Major tilted his chin at the second speeder, “Shall we?”

Not liking the limited escape options presented by such a confined space, Mai nonetheless declined her head in agreement, falling into place behind the two men as Lukas jogged back and took point.  All four climbed into the speeder, Mai and Lukas taking one of the plush lounges whilst the pair of agents collapsed appreciatively on the other.

“It’s hot out.” The Lieutenant remarked, seemingly still amused by the situation.

“If we could get down to business,” The slight reprimand in the Major’s voice was clear as the speeder pulled away from the curb and back into traffic. His companion sobered as he pulled a small datapad from his jacket’s breast pocket and handed it to Mai.

“IF you need to contact me in the next 48 hours, I am, for all intents and purposes, known as Niko Ballist” The Major continued, “But I would prefer if this was the only time we crossed paths. No offense.”

“None taken.” Mai responded dryly.

“We won’t lose any sleep over it.” Lukas added, his tone equally deadpan.

“Glad to see the corps have retained their sense of humor.” The Lieutenant spoke up, unable to resist the snipe.

“Now now, let’s play nice,” The Major pointed to the datapad in Mai’s claws, “Archsyn is on the move. He’s somehow gotten wind that we’re tracking his movements so it’s been increasingly difficult to pin him down. He’s started using body doubles, fake trails, ghosting techniques, the works. On that pad is his last known location but more importantly, the name of his trusted lieutenants and his favorite hidey holes. If we shake up things enough for you he should go to ground with his daughter in tow. And when he does it will be at one of those locations.”

“Shake things up how?” Mai tapped the point of one claw on the datapad screen, “Are you planning on suiting up and joining us?”

“Hardly.” The Lieutenant snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

The Major chose to ignore his friends’ derogatory comment, “We’ll be carrying out a few select raids on Black Sun stockpiles over the next 24 hours. Nothing too important, but enough to stir up the wasp’s nest and create some confusion for you to work with.”

Mai nodded, aware that the speeder had pulled up before the barracks, “It’s appreciated,” She gestured for Lukas to exit the speeder, turning to speak to the Major one last time before following him, “We’ll try to keep it quiet, but these things have a way of…ballooning beyond control.”

“Do what you have to do.” He replied, “Cloak and daggers is all well and good, but this man is more dangerous than your initial briefing would have you believe. He needs to be reined in or disposed of A.S.A.P.”

Mai stood back from the speeder to allow it to move away, watching it until it disappeared from view. At her back Lukas stirred and took a step forward, “What now boss?”

“We brief the rest of the squad.” Mai answered after a moment’s pause, “Then we hit the streets and confirm exactly where Archsyn will move his daughter when shit hits the fan.”