Operation: Warden


As Jefferson stood to leave, and the Old Man crossed his arms in front of him - the effect it had almost made it seem like he sunk into his chair - Jack spoke to the group as a whole for the first time since they had met. His mind was clear of its previous swirling, the emotional release of earlier having flushed his system of all that kept him silent "We aren't going to die.

"The plan is to go to Nova, once there we will have the benefit of actually field testing our plans. We can sit here, systems away, and come up with a plan, but anything that we decided here would go south like a duck in winter without actually seeing the place." As Jack spoke, he slowly rose from his chair, he now towered over the others, the coat he had worn to conceal the huge pistol under his shoulder thrown over the top of his chair "If we don't succeed then everything we fought for, all the danger we've been through thus far, all the sacrifices we've made thus far has been for nothing. If we don't succeed we're never going home. And I don't know about you guys, but I have plans for the future, I'm surviving this mission. We're gonna get that data, and so help me god we'll drag Adaris back here to face the music."

Turning, he moved around the chair he'd been at and followed Jefferson. On the grand tour, Hayes had shown him a gym that featured a gun range and small armory. "I'm headed to the firing range, Jacquen, I haven't used this pistol in years."

Jack entered the gymnasium to find Jefferson already inside. Not having anything to say to the human, Jack just walked past him to one of the firing stalls. Hanging on the wall was a headset programmed to filter out the sounds of gunshots, while still allowing the wearer to hear other noises. Taking the headset, he positioned the padded earmuffs atop his head and noticed the control panel affixed to the wall under where the headset hung, it was studded with well labeled buttons that controlled what kind of targets, and the range at which they would appear -- up to two hundred yards.

His hands danced across the buttons, programming which targets would appear, how quickly they would do so and where they would do so. Then he hit the cherry red button that read ARM in capital letters. He reached under his arm and brought Tasha's pistol online with the first target, as it jumped from the ground. His eye tracking the target, Jack allowed for distance and speed, then pressed down on the trigger. Tasha's pistol made a booming sound the shook the open stall he stood in and downrange the target was simply destroyed, a fist sized hole blown straight through it, the target itself spinning off into the distance.

Carlyle couldn't help but smile inwardly, at the weight of Tasha's pistol in his grasp -- it was almost like she wasn't gone. Tasha'Carlyle vas Eroes etched into the gunmetal glittered and threw specks of light from it with each movement, as Jack continued his firing. Each blast the hand cannon made comforted him, each time he felt the discharge clear to his shoulder only served to motivate him further.

As a fourth target was blown to pieces, the shrapnel spinning off in all directions, Jack actually smiled. Adaris had reason to be scared.

Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
The meeting seemed to be breaking up, with several of the humans going to a firing range to practice. Ever the military professional, Trace followed them. He took up residence in a station a decent ways away from the others so as to not disturb the others. The Imperialist made a fairly loud noise when firing, though it was only easily heard when right next to the source of the fire. He set up the targets to be completely random, both as far as shape and distance. The speed at which they could appear was also set up to be completely unpredictable. He then prepped himself, zoomed in, and waited.

The first target swung into view, and Trace fired instinctively, the red beam covering the ground at the speed of light and cutting through the target. He reloaded, spun, and hit the next target before it had fully appeared. As the targets continued to show up, he blazed through them, the crimson light flashing over and over, each one lasting a moment before fading away. This was where he felt the most comfortable...in the heat of battle, regardless of if it was real or not. If he had his ship he could access his battle simulator, fighting in an actual war, commanding a squad. However, this was a different kind of exercise...relying on nothing more than your reactions. No one helping...no one to rely on if things went wrong...just yourself. He would enjoy this as fully as possible, throwing himself fully into the challenge, as he did with all things.


Frank walked into the room and as he checked his chaingun over he saw the others come in and blast away, Trace with his tracer and Jack with his hand cannon. Frank finished inspecting his gun and pulled it up side arming the pistol and the uzi. He saw a bunch of operation training bits and looked at them. He choose one where you had to clear out a corridor and advance through the building killing off as many as you could and not shooting the civilians, who were marked by green targets. A bit like the op that had gotten them here in the first place. He hit the start button, took his position and as it began ran to the cover, using the laser Uzi he spread covering fire as he advanced to the position where he switched to his chaingun which he pulled the fire trigger still behind cover as it began to rotate and then he stood up from cover with perfect timing half a second before the first several lasers shot out the barrel and he dodged to the side keeping on firing, having cleared the hallway he switched to his pistol and moved down it with speed firing off at targets as they appeared, he grazed civilian on the shoulder put the rest was good, the final room was packed full of enemies the automated target thing told him over the headphones with all the civilians in the supposed bank cage which was bulletproof so all that remained was to take out all of the enemy. Frank switched to his chaingun and kicked down the doors practising an evasive manoeuvre into the room, rolling behind cover he dodged in all manner of ways possible all the while keeping his chaingun shooting. The room was clear in about half a minute with the whole exercise having taken about three. Then the "bank vault" doors swung open to reveal the side of the firing range, with a smile Frank stepped out and walked down to the ammo station refilling all his guns when he arrived


Tom listened to Jack's dramatic 'take down Adaris' speech, before following the others into the firing range.
Picking up his battered, but still functional, laser rifle he took up position in one of the firing stations.
He ignored the headsets, Tom had never liked using such devices, in real combat you didn't get them, so why should you acclimatize yourself with something you were never going to use?
Tom's fingers tapped at the keys of the control panel, programming the targets, or rather, programming them to pop up at random, it wasn't good target practice if you knew exactly where your opponent would attack from.
Satisfied, Tom began the countdown to the beginning of the exercise, he turned and knelt down on one knee, bringing his left arm forwards, holding the rifle barrel in the correct position, whilst his right arm slipped into a right angle around the rifle butt.
He switched the safety catch off, keeping his finger on the trigger, he counted down in his head. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0!
The first target sprung up at half past eleven, Tom instantly adjusted his aim with the help of his EC, squeezing the trigger, he sent a laser dead centre onto the target, destroying it in a stroke.
Another target cropped up, this one at the far end of the firing range, Tom aimed and fired again.
The exercise control computer sent a signal to his EC; Advance!
Keeping his rifle at shoulder height, Tom stood up and began to move slowly down the length of the room, sweeping the rifle from side to side, waiting for the next attack, a target sprung up at quarter past twelve.
Tom swivelled and shot down the target. A practice bot holding a Uzi stood up at the far end of the range.
His EC warning him of the danger, Tom ducked and rolled, dodging the droid's deadly fire.
He brought his rifle up to bear against the robot and fired twice, the mechanoid exploded in a shower of sparks.
Exercise 1 cleared. The computer signalled to his EC.
Tom stood up, slung his rifle onto his shoulder and moved back down the range, he exited his practice station and moved over to the ammunition station.
Jefferson was already there, loading Thermal Clips into his weapons.
Saying nothing, Tom took out the half full Thermal Clip in his rifle, and slung it into the bin, before reloading.


Frank watched as Walker approached, as parker flung his magazine into the bin Frank piped up "Do you really think we have no hope?" he asked. If Warler thought they were going to die then there was no point in him coming, he would end up just slowing the team down.
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(OOC: Parker? My character's name is Tom Walker thank you very much. :) )

"Do you really think we have no hope?" Asked Jefferson.
Tom weakly smiled. "I'm a veteran, and a pessimist. Expect the worst, that way you'll never be disappointed." Tom turned to face Frank. "I've been serving for eighteen years, and I've seen a lot, we'll see how optimistic you are after that time. But if you think that's gonna impede on my tactical ability, then you're wrong, because the army is all I have. I have no friends, my family are all gone, and now even the service has turned against me." He moved closer to Frank. "I'll fight, and I'll die, not for any cause, but because I haven't got anything else."


This was a good thing, being able to observe their AO before they had to conduct operations in it. But, the fact that they would be spending much time on a lawless planet, without giving away that they were working for a Councilor meant that they might have to observe some horrible crimes without helping out the victims. This would seriously challenge Rolf’s sense of right and wrong, but he felt that it would have to be necessary for ODS 3 to redeem themselves. After the meeting was unofficially concluded, ODS 3 dispersed, most of them heading to a simulation room. Rolf decided he would go there too.

First though, he had some personal business to take care of. If they would be undercover on a rogue planet, they would have to have a cover story for why they were there. Maybe a company trying to see what could be sold was a good idea. Rolf, not having any experience in this field, contacted a friend, who was able to set up this company, called Neue Rheinmetall, the successor to Rheinmetall AG, a former weapons development company. Neue Rheinmetall would produce weapons, military and civilian vehicles, security services and systems, and industrial equipment and services. Since the company is just starting up, Nova is a good place to begin services, due to the lack of tax laws and customs officials.

After the fake company was set up, Rolf headed to the gun range, where ODS 3 was practicing, her NI in various simulations. Rolf, who had decided to practice his all but obsolete form of combat, drew out his sword and his new pistol, an H&K semi auto laser pistol, designated P14 by the PCC. He entered a combat simulation where he was stuck inside a large skyscraper, having to escape hordes of enemy, trying to end Rolf’s life with extreme violence if possible. Not wanting to use his EC, Rolf set its role as that of a recorder, sending what Rolf sensed into an archive for later review. Starting on the fiftieth floor of what looked like BMW’s late 21th century headquarters, Rolf fought down to the ground, eventually escaping after much trial and tribulation, experiencing what a T.V. dinner felt like, and driving off into the sunset in a 2002tii.

After this extremely cheesy and unrealistic simulation (how did that happen?), Rolf sent EC messages to ODS 3. They said: I have set up a fake company, if we need a cover story for why we’re on Nova. Information about it is in an attached zip file. Contact me if you have any questions. –Rolf.


As the meal came to an end with the departure of councillor Hayes, Jacquen drifted away with the others however instead of heading towards the firing range with the others a wholly futile exercise in his opinion he went up to his room in order to collect his battle armour and carry it down to the armoury.
The small fluorescent room was directly adjacent to the firing range and the sound of small arms fire could be heard through the wall as he laid the armour upon one of the steel benches. Like the rest of the building the workshop had been kitted out with the best equipment that money could buy making Jacquen feel like a kid in a candy store as the humans liked to say.
Pulling a reel of masking tape from out of one of the many drawers lining the back wall he begins the arduous task of masking over all of the sensors and other electrical devices that dotted the armours surface before placing it within the air tight spray booth. It seemed such a shame to cover over the elaborate paint scheme however Jacquen didn't like the idea of sticking out like a sore thumb in black and red armour with his name along with various other insignia tattooed across his body for the world to see. Placing the breathing mask over his face he begins re-spraying the armour in the urban cam employed by 3rd Recon stopping halfway through the second coat to read the message sent to him by Rolf finding that somebody else had his mind on the details for the job.
With the armour completely re-sprayed Jacquen carefully stencils his name in small grey writing on his right breast before leaving the armour to dry deciding to find out what this place had to offer entertainment wise he could always train once they were on a ship to Nova.


Replacing his pistol in the shoulder holster, Jack went to the gym doors, pushing them open he called to his team "I'll see you all in the morning."

As Jacquen had half an hour beforehand, Jack went to his room. There he stripped, showered, shaved and made himself ready for bed.

Later, as Jack sat in only his pants and a pair of socks found in the dresser on the other side of the room from his bed, he held the small chip he'd found inside Tasha's helmet, as he'd stuffed it into his bag. The light purple faceplate sat upon the bed beside him, almost like it still looked at him. The chip was so small, not even as big as a human's fingernail.

Accessing his EC, Jack called the entertainment console and told it to access the chip remotely. A FSD appeared before Jack, about the size of the helmet that sat beside him, a familiar face appearing before him. Her alien, yet familiar visage brought tears stinging to Jack's eyes so quickly that he worked on impulse. Just as Tasha opened her mouth and spoke "My darl-" was all she could say, before Jack shut down the console, terminating access to the chip and slouching forward, his face falling into his hands. And tears began to flow once more, as darkness fell upon Eroes Prime, darkness fell upon Jack's heart. It would be a long night.

Early in the morning, Councillor Hayes awoke. As he ran through his morning routine, brushing his teeth, showering, changing into his gym clothes, working out and then changing into his uniform, Hayes thought of the endeavor that he had sat all these souls upon. Adaris had been a shining Paragon of the Collective once, as Hayes poured himself a bowl of breakfast cereal into a bowl, the woman he still loved so dearly sitting upon the bar stool next to him at the kitchen counter, a smile crossed Hayes' lips -- he had a new group of Paragons this time, a group that would not fail him.

Later, after his small breakfast, Hayes called his EC, informing it to page all the crew of ODS 3 to the foyer. It was time to leave, their ship had been completed late the previous night, and all the supplies, but for the crew and their armor had been piqued aboard. "It's time to go."


By the time Tom received Haye's transmission, he was already awake and dressed, finishing his meagre breakfast, Tom moved out of his room, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he went.
He made sure that he always kept his rifle by his side, the battered, aging piece of equipment had served him well over his eighteen long years of service.
The corner of his mouth curling into a smile, he remembered the mantra he and the other PDF candidates had chanted all those years ago as they learned to clean their rifles;
This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I master my life. My rifle, without me, is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than any enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will... My rifle and myself know that what counts in this war is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, nor the smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit... My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weakness, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will keep my rifle clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will.... Before my peers I swear this creed. My rifle and myself are the defenders of my planet. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life. So be it, until victory is ours and there is no enemy, but peace.

Tom moved over into the communal area, where he sat on the couch, waiting for the others, his thoughts drifted to the coming mission, would they succeed? Tom doubted it. But it was better to die trying than sitting on the sidelines, watching everything collapse around you.


Frank did several more drills however he decided to head back to his room. He watched a Movie, an documentary on a war called the "Napoleonic Wars" which had happened back when earth had no idea of the other races around it. The tactician for the "British" in the war was a genius called Wellington, the strategic mind of his time. Tired Frank ended the documentary and went to sleep the night passing uneventfully for him, with Frank sleeping like a log.
Frank awoke and shuffled out of bed getting dressed into his combat gear. He had a breakfast of a bacon sandwich and sausages before returning to collect his gear. He had most of his stuff when he received the message from Hayes telling them it was time to go. Collecting his chain-gun and taking a rifle for some extra fire power he slid the chain-gun strap round his neck slinging his rifle across his back with his pistol in its holster on his side with the Uzi on the other side of his body, he smiled. He felt like with these weapons and the others at his side, he could take on the world. Pulling into the communal area he nodded to Walker who was already seated on a sofa, Frank pulled up a comfortable chair which he proceeded to sit in and awaited the others, he wanted to get under-way as soon as possible.


He had spent much of the night watching movies from Earth, finding several of them to be extremely confusing as the characters within didn't seem to follow the same form of logic that he would follow like the Drill sergeant in FMJ why didn't the recruits simply attack him and prove their worth? That’s how it would have worked back on his homeworld but then again humans did have strange customs.
Waking early the following morning he spends an hour or so within the councillor’s gym on a treadmill before showering, changing and heading down for a quick breakfast with the others not that he said anything preferring to eat in silence until the message asking for them to meet Hayes within the foyer came.
With his gear stowed within its storage crate Jacquen joins the others within the foyer finding the councillor stood waiting for them with a shuttle sat waiting to take them to the newly constructed ship sat within the Councillors private hangar.
Much to Jacquens relief the councillor’s speech was brief and to the point allowing the team of drop troopers to board the waiting shuttle, the aluminium crates containing their battle gear stacked along the central aisle of the cramped transport meaning that anyone wanting to leave their seat had to clamber over them in order to get any where. Jacquen was practically buzzing with anticipation as the shuttle left the landing pad and its way over to Hayes private hangar where they were to catch their first glimpse of the ship they would be taking to Nova.


After Rolf’s obviously inaccurate and silly drill, he decided that it was time to call it a night, and head off to bed. A couple of people had already gone to bed, and on his way to his bedroom, Rolf could hear war movies playing in a couple of rooms. In Jack’s room, he heard a bad romance, with a snippet of speech from a lost love, and the survivor of the union beginning to cry. Rolf didn’t know Jack liked romance films. Rolf entered his room, and broke open a bottle of cognac that was provided. Rolf knew he shouldn’t drink to cover up the feelings of his breakup, but it was a long trip to Nova, and he would have time to recover from the hangover. As Rolf began to drink, he watched an ancient film called Eurotrip, a comedy, that also helped relieve the bad feelings.

In the morning, Rolf woke up to a fierce hangover, and the buzzing of his EC, telling Rolf that he had a message. Opening it up, Rolf found that it was from Councilor Hayes, asking for everybody to be in the foyer. Rolf quickly got dressed, throwing on a pair of jeans, a white tshirt, a pair of combat boots, and a leather jacket, then ran out of the door, and toward the foyer. On the way, he grabbed a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit from a kitchen. When he arrived, Rolf saw that others were already there, and they looked just fine. Rolf doubted he looked very well, he was still fighting a raging headache, and that breakfast sandwich, designed to help cure the effects of a hangover, was threatening to make a premature departure from Rolf’s body.

Councilor Hayes arrived just as Rolf was easing his way into a sofa, nursing a glass of pineapple juice. The explanation from Councilor Hayes was very simple; it was only one sentence; “Time to go.”. ODS 3 was leaving today for Nova. They would get their chance to get their revenge soon. This made Rolf feel a bit better, but he still had his hangover to fully get rid of. Luckily, that would be long gone before they arrived on Nova.

Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Trace remained in the simulation room after everyone else had left, trying out some of the room-wide trials once he was alone. Being the consummate warrior he was, he wanted to keep himself in top condition, and even better himself if possible. It was quite late when he finally called it off, heading to his room. He tried the soft thing the humans thought of as a bed, but the sheer uncomfortableness of the material forced him off of it. Sinking that far into a material you were sleeping on couldn't be healthy. He instead opted for the floor, although that was too soft as well with its carpeting and all. He slept fitfully, the plushness surrounding him preventing him from truly resting. Such an odd species humans were, thinking this was luxury.

The next morning he was up and ready to go by the time they were told to move out. He simply nodded and gave the Kriken salute, then waited for Lieutenant Rolf to lead the way onto the ship.


There was little sleep for Jack McAlister Carlyle that night. Much of that night, he spent sitting upon the edge of the ridiculously plush bed, Tasha's faceplate in his hands. He spent so long just sitting there, letting his fingers caress the smooth glass. A few tears ran down his cheeks to patter against the faceplate. He heard Jacquen get up once at night and head into the bathroom the pair of them shared, Jack was as quiet as he could be until Jacquen left back into his room.

Outside, Eroes Prime's orbit took it around the planet it hovered over, and the night slowly gave way to dawn. The first rays of sunlight lanced across the floor of Jack's room and highlighted him, laying upon his back, feet still hanging off the side of the bed and Tasha's mask gripped tightly to his chest. Finally the light hit Jack's closed eyes and forced him into wakefulness, the digital display sitting upon the nightstand told him that he'd gotten three and a half hours worth of sleep -- more than he usually got.

Standing, Jack went to get dressed, but not before he propped Tasha's helmet up against a pillow.

Dressed in the usual black and dark blue, Jack sat on the edge of the bed to lace his combat boots. As the laces slowly tightened around his ankle - lending strength to an otherwise weak joint - Jack felt the threads of his own sanity pulling themselves together. He felt rational thought returning, along with the will to clear his name, or die trying. The final clasp bound his sanity back together with the grating metal sound of his shoulder holster securing to his chest and the weight of Tasha's pistol against his side -- almost like a comforting hand.

Finally, he went to the nightstand, where he had sat the small chip that contained Tasha's final message to him. He gingerly picked it up and bounced it in his hand once, looking down at it. The certainty that she had known her life was ending, and that she used the last moments to send a message to him was enough to keep Jack going -- despite his inability to even watch it yet. Jack reached over to where Tasha's helmet sat against a pillow and found the slot Jack had first saw the chip in. He pushed the data chip back into the helmet, before picking up his warbag and leaving the room -- his bag in his left, Tasha's helmet in his right.

"Good, good. I'm glad you're all here!" Hayes smiled cheerily at the group -- even though few of the still shocked crew of ODS 3 returned the expression. The Councillor turned and waved for his men to follow him out into a waiting shuttle. This one was larger than the shuttle Hayes had flown all of the crew to his home in. This was a troop shuttle, large enough to have a central compartment where all of ODS 3's gear was stored. Their weapons sat inside racks above the huge crates that contained their Op Armor.

Moving to the cockpit, Hayes slid the door open and sat in the pilot's seat -- leaving the door open. "I hope you all had a good night. Big day today, and a big week ahead for that matter!" He began firing the shuttle's engines up, as he closed the bay doors they had entered through with a swipe of his hand on a FSD. Hayes began to lift the shuttle from the ground, as the crew found their seats -- Jack sitting next to his Sicariun friend, stuffing his warbag under the seat, keeping Tasha's helmet in his lap.

In no time, Hayes was once again screaming towards the docking bay in his private warehouse, a maniacal look on his face just as he pulled the shuttle up. Jack bracing himself for a larger impact than the tiny bump that accompanied docking. "Wasn't that fun?" Hayes asked, smiling broadly, undoing his harness and ducking into the seating area "Come on, I think you'll enjoy this very much."

Leading them up inside his warehouse, Hayes stopped to politely ask one of his private guards to have the shuttle unloaded and reloaded into the new ship. Then the group trooped on through the warehouse, passed where Hayes had made the offer the day before and through a sliding door, into a dry dock where their ship was fully fitted and ready for combat. Sitting inside the dry dock cradle, the ship glittered darkly, casting light off its perfectly black surface. Every inch of the ship was dark black, but for the bright, blood red stripes that slid down from the nose of the craft to the tail.

"Wardens, I present to you your ship -- the Warden." Hayes spoke sweeping his hand forward, like a game show host revealing what's behind curtain number 1. "Fitted for both stealth and battle, I had this ship made especially for you." In blocky, blood red letters, the single word WARDEN was emblazoned across her tail section.

Hayes walked up the ramp opened inside the Warden's belly -- a part of the ship. "This ship can easily sleep a crew of fifteen. It has well stocked kitchen facilities that are both automated and manual, in case any of you wish to make your own meals. Also, in the unlikely event that the drive core dies in deep space and you must subsist until your beacon is spotted, there is a food recycler that...well, let's say waste not want not, though it's impossible for that mush to be tasty, it's awful, but will maintain life indefinitely." Hayes made his way up onto the main deck.

"Hold please." A very, very familiar female voice spoke to them, as they pulled up in front of a sealed hatch. "Warden Status recognized Helmfrid, Jefferson, Walker, Trace, Jacquen, Vortag, Carlyle. Guest status recognized Hayes."

Hayes turned to the others "Before you ask, yes, I used my status to take quite a few things from the Void's Warden. Including Vicki -- the ships Artificial Intelligence."

As Hayes spoke, the door they'd been cleared for opened, and yet another bit of theft walked out. Lieutenant Dan was standing on the other side of the hatch, braced against the wall, his arms crossed. "Good to see you!" he walked up to all of them, shaking hands with Rolf. After the pleasantries were exchanged he looked at Frank "The Collective got a load of our little talk in the lounge. Last night they threw the book at me as well, dishonorable discharge, claimed I was spreading treasonous rumors in disgrace of my uniform."

Hayes turned to the group before they could respond to Dan, speaking loudly to get their attention "The ship is yours now. In every sense of the word, Warden is in Dan's name, and each and everyone of you own equal shares of her. Go out and get your honor back."


Frank followed along with Hayes, he frowned as he saw Lieutenant Dan. He exchanged a hello and his expression changed to that of a sad/angry one as he explained why he was there. After Hayes had spoken Frank walked across to Dan and said "I'm sorry, I was worried, hopefully understandably and I never intended for you to get discharged. However, we could do with your services. If you will forgive me I will make it up to you in any way possible." He spoke with sincerity, hoping that Dan would forgive him otherwise this expedition would probably fail before it reached Nova.


Tom followed Hayes out of the lounge, into the dropship, out of the dropship, into the dock and to their new ship, the Warden.
Hayes gave them a quick tour, before introducing them to Lieutenant Dan, who had also been discharged.
"The ship is yours now. In every sense of the word, Warden is in Dan's name, and each and everyone of you own equal shares of her. Go out and get your honor back." Announced Hayes.
Tom stepped forward and spoke up; "Sir what about the ship's arnament? Is it fitted with suitable weaponry?'" He questioned.


After a short flight within the shuttle where he and Jack had exchanged small talk throughout the entire trip, Jacquen stepped out of the cramped passenger compartment to admire their new ship and its sleek predatory profile, painted up to match their armour or at least before the previous nights vandalism on his part.
Following Hayes he listens as the man excitedly explains his new toy to them pointing out the salient features before opening the door to reveal Lieutenant Dan standing within the doorway; however it was his Selune co-pilot that caught Jacquen's attention.
Although she had no doubt been discharged like the rest of the Wardens she wore the uniform of a PCC navigation officer and whilst stood within the shadows of the ships corridor you could be forgiven in thinking that she was nothing more than an attractive woman if you was to take a closer look it was impossible to miss her alabaster white skin and the tiny horns pointing through her regulation length silvery blonde hair. Like all Selune’s her eye sockets were in the same position as that of a humans only instead of having one eye within each eye socket there were two small pale blue ones; her pointed tail gently swishing about her calves as she moved explaining how the Selune’s had gained the nickname of “White Devils” within the collective.
“How soon will the ship be ready to depart? Jacquen asked eager to get the mission underway despite the dangers they would be facing on Nova though he was hoping that between them they would be able to come up with some form of plan before they actually arrived.


After everybody had arrived, Councilor Hayes led the group to a waiting shuttle, bigger than the one that transported them to Councilor Hayes’s hanger. This model was designed to carry cargo as well as personnel, and today it was carrying all the gear of ODS 3. Rolf climbed aboard the shuttle with the rest of the crew, as Commander Hayes entered the pilot’s cockpit, and activated the shuttle.

Hayes took the shuttle through a wild set of manoeuvres, nearly causing Rolf to puke his breakfast out. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem, but there was still a spot of hangover. If that spot was any bigger than what it really was, Rolf probably would have vomited. Luckily for everybody aboard, he didn’t.

When they arrived at the private hanger, ODS 3 departed the shuttle, and followed Hayes to their surprise, the cargo from the transporter following behind them. They were lead to the dry dock, where a ship in black, with red stripe going across the side of the ship. Rolf thought it was very good looking, except for the stripe. He felt the stripe was unnecessary. Everything else looked great. According to Councilor Hayes, the ship was named Warden, confirmed by the giant blood red Warden on the aft section of the ship. Again, Rolf felt it unnecessary. Maybe a smaller Warden in gray silver near the nose would be better. Oh well, it was done and repainting would take too long.

Councilor Hayes took then into the ship, explaining some of the features, including an emergency recycler to help keep its occupants alive. When they arrived at the main deck, they were stopped by the ship’s AI, which sounded almost exactly like the AI from the Void Warden. Councilor Hayes explained he took a ‘few’ things from the Void Warden, Vicki the AI included.

Another thing Councilor Hayes stole turned out not to be a thing at all, but a person, Lieutenant Dan to be exact. Rolf’s equal from the Void Warden, separated only by rating. Lieutenant Dan greeted everybody, shaking Rolf’s hand. “I’m glad to see you here, Lieutenant Dan,” Rolf said, while returning his handshake. Lieutenant Dan explained to the group that a talk he had with Frank had gotten him discharged. The Council strikes again.

Before Councilor Hayes sent them out, he explained that they all had equal ownership in the Warden. Councilor Hayes then departed, and the ship’s hatch closed. Walking to the sink to try out the water, Rolf looked at everybody assembled. “Well, I’m not your CO anymore, never was your CO in Lieutenant Dan’s case, but I think we’re ready to go now, in answer to Jacquen’s question. If you all agree, I say let’s head out now, and get this mission started.” Rolf took a drink of water, and found it to be good. “Good water means good ship,” he announced. “I have a feeling she’ll help us get out of quite a few scrapes.”

Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Trace remained impassive throughout the flight to the new Warden. For all he knew Hayes had to do what he was doing...his lack of knowledge when it came to human customs meant he he couldn't object. He had put on the armor as requested of him, disliking the way it felt on his exoskeleton. He'd already tested his natural invisibility with it...it had performed quite well, working as though it was a part of him. He had yet to try out his triskelion form, not sure the suit could survive the contortions. He had resolved to try it once Hayes was gone, so that the man wouldn't kill him for ruining such a fine piece of equipment.

He continued to say nothing as Hayes introduced the ship and Lieutenant Dan, but upon Rolf's mentioning that he wasn't their CO anymore he shook his head. "You may not be their CO, but according to Kriken military code until you're no longer in service to the military or see fit to promote me, I obey your orders...sir."