Futuristic Star Wars: The Last Platoon - IC

The Sovereign Will - Fireteam Besh, crew quarters

"Armory..." the trooper repeated in thought. "Screams ammunition."

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"Armory first, then Crew Quarts." Prejet ordered.

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"Oh, ha-ha. This heap of junk has been sitting here for years. I'm sure the armory hasn't been rigged to blow by some stupid droids looking to stop guys like us."

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Dolkes and Gharnes- both dressed in formerly standard-issue Imperial Army fatigues and armor looked at Row first but were quick to nod and comply once Castus gave the order to form up on the armory door. Both troopers had opted to don their rebreathers and helmet goggles upon landing outside of the Sovereign Will though since then both troopers had mimiced eachother yet again, this time by placing the goggles on the top of their helmets- revealing Dolkes' somewhat nervous expression and Gharnes' stern one as the duo got split up.

Gharnes- being quite bulky and large- looked almost comical as he stacked up with the other troopers at the door. The penal trooper muttered something to himself before gripping his E-10 tightly while tapping the back of his own helmet twice for good luck.

Meanwhile Dolkes, now crouched and facing away from the armory, gave Sharn a quick glance before shaking his head.

He shook his head. "No charges. Not yet."

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Gharnes drummed his fingers on the E-10 rifle in his hand, watching the exchange silently. He was a private- and a penal trooper at that- so he didn't have much say in any command decision, let alone much of a say at all in any tactical situation. Row's gesture wasn't lost on him and as such Gharnes decided to skip both protocol and years of military conditioning by placing a firm hand on Castus' shoulder;

"I can take point, sir."

At the same time Dolkes glanced at the Dharka and Crix, either attempting to gauge a possible reaction from the two of them or perhaps waiting for them to pitch in with any thoughts of their own.

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The Sovereign Will - Fireteam Aurek, starboard gundecks

"Looks clear, no contacts."

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Rolled: 7

Indeed, the starboard gundeck appeared empty as Hailin entered, followed closely by Racksen and Kitressi. The three Death Troopers entered a large, rectangular space, fitted with a row of sealed hatches- normally protected by a ray shield to allow for the gundeck crews to engage in deadly broadside combat- on one side of the room and ammunition racks on the other.

At the center of the room were mounts for the massive broadside cannons usually employed aboard Confederate vessels though in this case most of the guns were missing with the three remaining ones having been stripped down. The ammunition racks around the room appeared empty as well, though a number of equipment crates and containers with CIS-stamps on them littered the room in the form of neat and organized stacks.

"Look at that," said Racksen, motioning forward with his blaster.

Seated next to one of the stacks of CIS crates were two B2-series super battle droids, though these two were sporting bright orange and white paintjobs and had been fitted with special "claws"-seemingly for gripping and lifting heavy equipment- instead of wrist blasters.

"Sharn is going to love these," muttered Kit. She nodded forward. "Sweep the room. Check the corners."

Back at the door Iessa peered inside, eyes scanning the room with a quite visible look of curiosity.

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He felt the gloved knuckle knock against his jet helmet, forcing Prejet to cast a glance over his shoulder. Codary had stood behind, sketching a sign with his hand. The experienced scout trooper recognised the sign, the significance of it, and why Codary had bothered to ask him. The ruined corridor's chill settled, Prejet suddenly finding it less cumbersome to breathe. His helm shifted, nodding twice, deliberate motions to acknowledge the jet trooper's inquiry. His tone had betrayed the subtleties of his certainty and someone picked out the nuance. For a moment, his mind harked back to the days of the Imperial Academy, to the dangers of battlefield stress. It was sobering, both the memory and the question. But he gave Codary silent gratitude for employing a degree of discretion.

"I can take point, sir."

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He felt the firm pressure of a hand on his shoulder, but did not bother to look as Gharnes spoke quietly. Prejet's black-scorched helmet inclined to the armoury door, his hand prised from the blaster rifle, gestured for Gharnes to take point. "Open. Clear with you. Dolkes then cover us." He ordered Gharnes and Dolkes, two fingers assigning their duties respectively. The possibility of an ambush lingered in his mind, but regardless, the scout trooper would jump into the fray. Sharn could scavenge their wargear if they do detonated, anyway.

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"Sweep the room. Check the corners."

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"Roger," Hailin scanned the room from their entry point, trying to give a quick sweep before a more in-depth check for any dangers. The initial glance brought up no threats, though Hail did notice the two battle droids seated nearby. Arko furrowed her brow for a moment. They were lifeless, and clearly weren't outfitted for combat, but the mere sight of such a terror from back in the Clone Wars gave Hailin chills. She couldn't imagine facing them in the heat of battle, their hulking frames no doubt able to crush her helmet with ease. Hail shook off the thought and continued.

She gave a glance back to Iessa, peering into the room. "Careful, Ma'am," was all Hail said, the crackle of her voice echoing in the rectangular room. They had units present here, even if deactivated. If there was a time where trouble could happen, it'd be here. She held her hand up to Iessa for barely a second before returning to her sweep alongside Racksen, clearing their own sections of the room. During her checks, she glanced more than once at the stripped down cannons that were left. Even the mounts that remained were imposing, like the shell of a ghost that had caused untold damage to Republic forces. Even if their timelines didn't match up, Hailin always wondered how Imperial star destroyers would compare to CIS ships such as this. The Venator class ships were just older versions, after all, and they held up well enough in combat with CIS vessels. Hailin was a devout believer in the might of the Empire, but seeing firsthand the weapons of war the Confederacy used, she had a short moment of hesitation.

Other than the neat piles of crates and an array of empty munitions shelves, Hailin didn't find much else in the room. She ignored the clutter of metal panels and miscellaneous junk that had dislodged themselves from the interior of the ship during the crash. She did find it rather odd the leftover crates were so orderly, but maybe some leftover droids decided to do some stacking after the ship crashed before powering down. Never really knew what went through a droid's circuits. Hailin checked around the final batch of boxes before turning back to the group. "All clear down the fore end, besides the deactivated B2's here. Best not stick around and give them any chance to wake up on us."

The Sovereign Will - Fireteam Besh, crew quarters

"Open. Clear with you. Dolkes then cover us."

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"Roger," replied Gharnes, switching position with Castus to put himself next to the door. Behind him Dolkes nodded and rubbed his helmet as he moved to the opposite side of the door. "Stacking up," the penal trooper said. As he took up his own position he took an audible deep breath, his eyes darting between the door, Gharnes and Castus as he did.

"Ready," he said, nodding.

Gharnes turned his head lightly waiting for the go-ahead from Castus. When the Scout Trooper Lieutenant squeezed his shoulder twice the large trooper quickly slapped an electric door-charge at the armory door, frying any possible locking mechanisms as it activated with a quick buzz.

Rolled: 1

The armory door ported in two, revealing a deep rectangular room within. Dolkes entered first with his E-10 at the ready, followed by Gharnes who was also shouldering his rifle and scanning for targets. Lining both sides of the room were rows of weapon lockers and automated ammunition storage devices, with the latter being put in place for the much larger B2-series SBDs armed with internal weapons.

At the end of the room was a large spherical device armed with an array of arms and manipulators all centered around a large bronzium-colored metallic object shaped almost like a wheel of some sort. Gharnes and Dolkes relaxed slightly, as no droid or living being occupied the room with Gharnes about to turn towards Castus to report when a loud hiss suddenly erupted from the sphere.

The device was now moving, arms and manipulators attaching and detaching themselves from the wheel-like object until it remained all by itself. It clicked, parting into two semi-circles resting on a trio of spindly legs. Next up the upper part of the wheel deployed a thin head arrayed with three sensors, followed in turn by two arms unfurling to reveal two sets of dual blaster cannons.

Dolkes' shoulders drooped slightly at the sight of the Droideka.

"Poodoo," he muttered.

The optical sensors turned red and the droid enveloped itself in a bright blue bubble shield. Gharnes and Dolkes both dove into cover, shielding themselves between two separate armory lockers on opposite sides of the room.

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The Sovereign Will - Fireteam Aurek, starboard gundecks

"Careful, Ma'am," was all Hail said, the crackle of her voice echoing in the rectangular room.

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Iessa visibly rolled her eyes in response to Hail as she carefully stepped into the room to examine it in more detail. "Don't worry about me, trooper." She shrugged and gestured with a thumb back towards her two bodyguards. "I already pay people to do that for me," she finished with a smirk.

The Quarren looked skeptical with his eyebrows furrowed though much like his more cockier Weequay colleague he remained silent, with both mercenaries entering the room to take up position at Iessa's left and right side.

"All clear down the fore end, besides the deactivated B2's here. Best not stick around and give them any chance to wake up on us."

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Racksen nodded in agreement, first towards Hail and then back towards Kit. "Clear here as well, I have another door over here though." The Death Trooper used his weapon to motion forward. "Mark up the salvage and push on, Kit?"

Kitressi, positioned near the center of the room so that she could monitor both her troopers and the VIP, nodded lightly. "Affirmative. I'll place a puck. Stack up at the door."
She quickly produced a small disc-shaped object and slapped it onto one of the CIS-marked crates before turning towards Iessa. "Ready, ma'am?"

Iessa nodded as she continued deeper into the room. "Always," she replied. "Lead the way."

Kitressi then nodded towards Racksen who advanced on the far door, opening it with a quick tap at the nearby controls, revealing a well-lit corridor on the other side. "Looks like this part of the ship is in better shape," he muttered as he stepped through.

"Why are the lights on?" Racksen asked aloud on the DT-channel, his question masked by the built-in scrambler.

At the far end of the corridor was another door, this one marked as "Starboard Gundeck - Ammunition Storage" by the sign above.

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Prejet squeezed twice, giving the signal to set and trigger the electric door charge. The Scout Trooper looked away for a moment, anticipating the crackling of device's activation, a snapping noise that shattered the silence between them. The air became warm for a moment before dissipating back into the hard coldness of the corridor, the stench of burning plastic slowly rising from the sliding door's ruined internals. Not for the first time, Prejet gave silent gratitude that his helm's respiratory unit filtered out stinging, chemical smell. The double doors rolled open with a snap, sending shudders through the walls, knocking dust and motes of rust off the metallic rafters. Dolkes, then Gharnes. The grip on his E-11 rifle tightened as it came for Prejet's turn.

Prejet found himself entering the ship's armoury, barrel leveled and scanning the room synchronously with Dolkes and Gharnes — a perfect display of Imperial standarised room clearing. Serried rows of weapon lockers flanked the side walls of the room, and what Prejet assumed had been automated reloading stations, inclining his head above the sights of his rifle. His emerald eyes narrowed behind the helm's black visor, dimly catching the invading light from the service corridor. Before Gharnes turned, Prejet froze. His body stiff and rigid for a moment as the clang and scraping of actuators and manipulators echoed like a death knell through the silent room. "Move!" Prejet barked, almost pushing Dolkes and Gharnes into cover, before he flung himself out of the armoury back into the service corridor.

He pitched himself on the door frame, gesturing to the squad of the danger inside. "Droideka, droideka!" Prejet snapped. "Anyone, if you've an ion nade or anything, roll it! Their shields can't deflect low velocity objects. I'll draw its attention." The Scout Trooper issued the orders. He leaned over the frame, rifle up, loosing bolts of condensed high-energy particles.

With any luck, the Droideka's single-minded ruthless would be directed at him and attempt to march forward, if anything can't pierce its snapping, energized shields then Dolkes or Gharnes could slip past it and destroy its metal frame, the colour of rust, from within.

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"Huh."

With a fizz and pop, the electric door charge did its magic and the crew was able to get to the juicy bits of the armory. Sharn was closer to the fifth or sixth in the room as he waved his rifle through the air, scanning each corner of the room for any traps, ambushes, or potential danger. Then, he lowered his rifle and scanned the room again with a more inquisitive eye. Shinies. Boy did Sharn love his shinies. It wasn't too often he was able to see antiquated auto-loaders with his own two eyes, but he resisted the urge to peel his helmet off and sniff the rustic scent of well-worn durasteel lockers, lick the maybe still tingly charging ports, and pocket every little halfway useful bit and bob he could jam into his pack.

He was across the room from the door now, eyes wide like a kid in a candy store, when he saw the specimen in the back. Its unique slender ball-like shape, the five ribs of the slim upper plate being dense enough, yet leaving enough space for its dual blaster cannons to fold in on themselves when in transport mode: this was undeniably a droideka. If it was in semi-working condition, it could even be sold for a nice amount of credits! Ten thousand, if he were to lowball it. Just as he went to approach, the room echoed with the sound of actuators firing, metal clicking into place, and three powerful feet touching the ground all at the same time.

"Move!"

Sharn's body shifted into gear as he ducked behind a locker, the room erupting into chaos as the droideka was activated, and it was pissed. He silently cursed the potential opportunity cost that went down the drain as the droideka spun to life and an ion grenade was called out for.

"I've got one!" He shouted, unslinging his back from his back and rifling through it. "...somewhere. Hold on!" "O2 mask, spare blaster, spare blaster, cred-sack, civilian disguise, thermal det, thermal charge, thermal hand warmers, where are the damn poppers?"

He yanked his hand out of the main pocket and jammed it into the side pocket, where two droid poppers lay. "Of course, I put them-" He muttered frustratedly to himself as his finally fished out an ion grenade. The sound of blaster fire already rang out and Sharn cursed to himself as he pressed the arming button, rolling the grenade across the floor and silently saying goodbye to any potential cash that might've been made from the fully functioning destroyer droid.

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