11-14-2017, 03:10 PM
Priya stood watching the two recruits who had been assigned to her team for their 'patrol' (if it could even really be called that at this point), as they pasted the recruitment poster to the stone wall.
[spoiler]
Her blaster was holstered, her left hand on its corresponding hip, and her right one supported by a sling, though still coated in the plastoid armour the 'troopers all wore. Putting that crap on this morning had fucking hurt. Still, she wasn't going to let herself whine about it.
No matter how much of a 'tsundere' (or 'asshole', to phrase it in a more normal way) that Rabbit felt like being, though, as she'd mulled it over in her head last night – whilst their medical droid injected her with a boatload of painkillers and did what it could to sort out the horrendous wreck he'd turned her forearm into – Priya had realised that he'd actually had a point. Not enough of one to justify practically maiming her, of course, but a point nonetheless.
A victory over Sarah would have been hollow and worthless if it had only been gained because her friend had held back most of her strength, for fear of accidentally killing her...
If that that realisation alone wasn't enough to convince her to overlook the severity of her punishment, though, she had also woken this morning to see their oh-so-strict instructor sitting by her bedside, an ovoid bubble of half-formed Omnilium encasing the fucked up area of her right arm, as he focused on doing what little he could to accelerate the healing. It wasn't terribly effective, of course, since he lacked a true healing power, as some people in the Omniverse possessed... this was simply an attempt at spending Omnilium to summon new tissue and bone to replace the most badly damaged parts of her arm... yet it was still a kinder deed than she had expected of him.
Judging by what the medical droid had said when she'd questioned it once Hijiri had left (after she had driven him off, more like), the dumb Rabbit had shown up right after their training session had ended and got to working on her arm straight away; he hadn't slept a wink that night. It was ridiculous to think that the same man who had been willing to do that, despite there being no actual risk to her life, had been the same person who had, only hours previously, shown absolutely no remorse after being the one to purposefully break her arm in the first place.
She wondered if all tsunderes were supposed to be this exaggerated, or if he was just a particularly gross caricature, even for one of their kind...
“Hey, lady, what happened to your arm?” demanded a young, high-pitched voice from behind her. As the newbies finished flattening down the recruitment poster and picked up the large, cardboard tubes filled with similar artwork which Kroll had given them to stick up all around Northside, she turned to face her questioner, “Were you fighting bad guys? Did you win?”
It was a child, a little boy not even as high as her waist. The kid had no hair, but instead a pair of antenna-like protrusions on his forehead, as well as pointed ears and bright green skin. He was accompanied by a man of the same race, who immediately began scolding him for his rudeness, before apologising to the stormtrooper.
“Don't worry about it,” she told him, then smiled and crouched down to speak to the boy on his own level, “and no, kid, sorry to disappoint, but it was nothing so cool as that, just a training exercise that got a little rough... my friends and I, the stormtroopers who don't wear helmets, we're all such tough, elite soldiers because we have a Prime who teaches us all about fighting... buuut he's even tougher than we are, so his training is crazy hard and if you mess up you can get hurt pretty bad.”
“Woah, that guy sounds mean!”
“Yup, totally.” she nodded sagely, “He's a big, mean, ol' Rabbit.”
“A rabbit?” the boy sounded confused now. She laughed.
“Uh huh... well, he says he's a Rabbit anyway, though he just looks human most of the time... you never know with them Primes though, do you?”
“Uh, Singh... we're ready to move on.” one of the helmeted 'troopers said, a little nervously. That lot all seemed a little intimidated by the elites... especially now that the cat was out of the bag about their night-time training... though as of yet none of them were aware about Sarah's role in the whole thing, luckily.
“Ugh, fine. Sorry kiddo, I gotta get back to work... because apparently these two need constant supervision just to stick up a few posters.” she rolled her eyes at the boy, who laughed.
***
Today was a pretty good day.
Trying to appear friendly, as Kroll wanted from them all, Trevor flashed a smile at a small group of girls as he, Brandon and the helmeted stormtrooper passed them in the street. They all smiled back. Either because they'd heard about the scene Hijiri and Leon had caused the other day and appreciated that there were 'troopers out there who were actually doing a good job of policing this area, or, more likely, because they were a bunch of airheaded bimbos who saw his oh-so-handsome face and felt like that was enough of a reason to be attracted to him...
He had plenty of experience with that sort of thing. Back before he'd come to Tier Five and discovered that deep down he was actually a pathetic coward, Trevor had held a pretty high opinion of himself. He was told constantly that he was good-looking, he'd made it through stormtrooper basic training with ease, and he was honestly a pretty fit guy. In fact, it wasn't until he met Michelle that he'd found a woman unwilling to be easily convinced to sleep with him. She insisted that this was because he had only hung out with idiots in the past... and, as with almost everything she said, he had accepted these words as the truth without the slightest hesitation.
So now he couldn't help but look down on any woman who showed the least bit of interest in him without having to practically hear his life story first.
Did that make him an asshole?
Some people would say yes. Other people would probably also say yes... but Michelle would say something about the opinions of idiots not mattering, which was good enough for him.
It was just a pity that she (and everyone else he knew, for that matter) considered him an idiot, as well.
He was doing better though. Sure, it was a slow process, but he was gradually becoming more accustomed to being in the line of fire. One of these days he really would prove himself... first to the squad, then later, assuming Kroll's plan actually panned out the way it was intended to, to everyone in Coruscant. Like those of all the other members of their group, 'Trevor Dodson' would become a household name, associated by all with badassery and heroism. Surely, at that point, even a woman as demanding as Michelle would be willing to give him a second chance?
They walked down the street until they'd found what Brandon judged to be a decent place to paste some posters, then told the guy in the helmet to get to work on putting them up. They were out in public right now, after all, so the elf wasn't going to try and make him look stupid by forcing him to help the regular 'trooper. He was supposed to be a member of the 'elite' group, after all... so he simply got to stand back and relax whilst someone else did the menial work for once... it was another foretaste of what was to come. Yes, these guys may force him to perform all their tedious chores right now... but with him becoming less of a liability almost by the day and new 'troopers soon to be getting recruited, it wouldn't be long now, he was sure, before he was treated with proper respect.
Today was a pretty good day.
***
The three stormtroopers marched down the street, carrying cardboard tubes filled with posters. Unlike those so-called 'elites' with their ridiculous night-time training sessions, these men were actually disciplined. They followed proper protocol, and did not act frivolously in public.
They were boring.
They'd occasionally get a nod of respect from the odd citizen who both knew and cared about the EPD's recent efforts against the NSW... but nothing more. They weren't likeable figures.
They were pasting these recruitment posters because they knew that there would have been no point in arguing when that fake sergeant had suggested it. With the lieutenant gone, that Prime who called himself a rabbit was the highest ranking officer, and Kroll vor Iechtelsteir had him wrapped around his little finger. They would have ended up doing this either way, so there had been no point in resisting.
Whenever they paused to paste up a poster, one of the three would stick it up, whilst the other two turned their backs to him and faced out into the street, blasters held at the ready. One could never be too careful in a place like Tier Five, where danger could lurk around every corner... where any of these ordinary-looking people might easily be a killer, rapist or other undesirable.
They were too professional to speak of it, but each of them wished that they could have stayed up on Tier One or Two... down here, where the stormtroopers were almost as bad as the people they policed, they were unhappy...
***
Frank took a swig from his flask, then passed it along. The girl with the eyepatch took it from him, while her friend with the snake tattooed on her face passed along the joint they'd been sharing.
Their team's noob was busy putting up one of Kroll's dumb recruitment posters, while the squad's very clearly sleep-deprived Rabbit hung around talking to some random guy who'd approached him, probably bragging about how great and 'elite' they all were (in between yawns), or some such crap. Frank didn't care. He'd found a couple hot chicks, he had his booze, and now he had some kinda drugs too... he wasn't sure what, since he hadn't bothered to ask, but if his liver had survived years of alcohol poisoning, he figured this stuff probably wouldn't kill him either.
The girls were probably part of some minor gang, he'd guess (though he couldn't be sure, as this was Tier Five, after all, so even those not involved with the gangs were often a pretty rough bunch); most prim and proper ladies didn't generally have tattoos that covered half their faces, or one of their eyeballs gouged-out, after all... not that he really minded. Being frequently stationed on Tier Five, as Davion's squad had been, oh-so-often, had broadened his views a lot... and the constant alcohol abuse had helped in that regard as well...
The funny thing was, the squad had previously tried to keep him away from booze as much as possible, since he basically reverted to being just another boring, stick-in-the-mud stormtrooper when sober... well, aside from the constant craving for alcohol. Now that they were all so keen on braking the rules in order to enact that KRAP, though, suddenly the whole crew heartily approved of keeping him wasted at all times. They cared so much about it that Hijiri had even magicked up his flask with Omnilium, in that weird way Primes did stuff, so that now the small, metal container could hold far, far more liquid than it ought to be capable of. It would have been perfect, if only they hadn't insisted that he pay for the contents himself.
Which brought him to this point, here and now, drinking and smoking with these two probable criminals; hell, the one with the eyepatch was actually wearing a t-shirt with the slogan 'Fuck the Empire' emblazoned in large letters across her breasts... which was probably not something she'd get away with on Tier One, he figured...
They weren't wearing Wolfpack colours, though, so as far as he was concerned they were more or less all on the same side, for the time being, at least (since for some reason all the recent crimes they'd been dealing with in this area seemed to relate to those wannabe werewolves)... and so should take this opportunity to become better acquainted with one another... as he had made sure to mention to them both.
They seemed rather keen on the idea.
***
They had left the barracks empty when they headed out today for their patrols. All at the same time, Kroll had decided, rather than staggering them throughout the day, as they had yesterday.
This way it would be much easier to call for backup if trouble arose, since the whole squad would already be out in the field, and so could respond at a moment's notice... the only worry he had was that with the 'racks all vacant and locked up tight, any would-be recruits who came calling to join up would have no one to speak to... the others had reminded him, though, that such a thing was extremely unlikely to happen today, as their campaign had literally started just the day before...
So he agreed to have them all go out at once... for today, at least.
Though it seemed he needn't have bothered. Their allotted hours for the patrol were nearing their end and his team (which consisted of just himself and two of the guys sent down from Tier One) had already placed all of their posters, so were now making their way back to the 'racks.
It had been all quiet, it seemed. Not a single distress call – or even a remotely concerned call – had come through. They had even been ranging further from their base than before, seeking to spread these posters across as much of Northside as they could... yet had come across nothing that needed their attention.
It seemed like their actions were having some effect after all; the Wolfpack had been cowed by the increased pressure already, and it was only a matter of time now before the other gangs were as well...
His acronym may have been annoying, but Frank had clearly been onto something when he called Kroll's plan 'Really Amazing'. At this rate, Northside would be secured in no time, and then they could move on and expand out into one of the city's other districts...
***
The team consisting of Jallus Reiner, Leon Nash, and one of the helmeted, nooby reinforcements from Tier One, was the first back to base.
They had, purely by chance, been assigned a location nearer to the 'racks than any of the other teams, so it was only natural that they would be the first to return... despite Leon's apparent willingness to speak to practically everyone who showed the slightest interest in them.
For his part, Jallus just carried the latest novel he'd been reading in one hand, focusing more on that than on looking out for crimes in progress. Kroll had told them all that in order to be better recognised by the populace they must emphasise their differences... not wearing a helmet was merely the first step; in order for the citizens to truly see them as actual people, they would need to realise that the stormtrooper elites did not just have faces, but actual personalities to go with them as well.
Now, though, the precious book slipped from his fingers, landing forgotten on the paved path upon which they stood.
“This is bad.” Leon said, at practically the same moment.
“Yeah. No doubt about that.” Jallus replied, pulling his communicator free from his belt.
The helmeted guy just remained silent, like the minor, unimportant individual he was.
“Should we check it out?” the crimson-haired and -eyed 'trooper asked. Clearly unsure how to proceed in such a situation. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing they were taught in basic training... or in their nightly lessons with Hijiri and Sarah, for that matter.
“No.” Jallus shook his head, “They might not have left yet, we could be walking into a trap if we try anything ourselves. I'll call the others and have them meet us back here as soon as possible. Just in case.”
He didn't like killing, much less watching those he considered friends being killed... so this wasn't exactly his ideal job... having been far too naive to understand the realities of life as a soldier before he had joined up himself though, Jallus had foolishly imagined a series of heroic adventures and bloodless victories... and lacking any other skills of note, he had been left with little choice but to remain a stormtrooper, lest he be forced to risk facing the horrors of unemployment. As it happened, however, despite his distaste for it, Jallus was rather good at this soldiering business, all things considered. As such, in this instance at least, it seemed that Leon was willing to follow his lead.
“Alright, go ahead.”
He lightly tapped the screen of his Dataverse Device/Communicator, opening a group call to one person on each of their three-member teams.
“All teams, this is Jallus Reiner...” he hesitated a moment, not sure whether to keep this next bit all professional-like, or just not bother... “and I hate to tell ya this, guys, but you're gonna want to get back to the 'racks right now. We've... got a problem...”
The barracks door, which was supposed to simply slide into the wall when opened, had now been reduced to a crumpled mass of scorched metal in the doorway, complete with a hole easily large enough to walk through. Someone had broken in, and rather than simply trying to hack and override the control panel which granted or denied access – as a thief might – they had instead forced their way through, heedless of the far more severe consequences of such an aggressive action... it did not bode well for the squad that anyone would be confident enough to attempt anything so brash.
[spoiler]
Quote:[/spoiler]
![[Image: ac6fc861203e0f33808d11b421272a5a.jpg]](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ac/6f/c8/ac6fc861203e0f33808d11b421272a5a.jpg)
Her blaster was holstered, her left hand on its corresponding hip, and her right one supported by a sling, though still coated in the plastoid armour the 'troopers all wore. Putting that crap on this morning had fucking hurt. Still, she wasn't going to let herself whine about it.
No matter how much of a 'tsundere' (or 'asshole', to phrase it in a more normal way) that Rabbit felt like being, though, as she'd mulled it over in her head last night – whilst their medical droid injected her with a boatload of painkillers and did what it could to sort out the horrendous wreck he'd turned her forearm into – Priya had realised that he'd actually had a point. Not enough of one to justify practically maiming her, of course, but a point nonetheless.
A victory over Sarah would have been hollow and worthless if it had only been gained because her friend had held back most of her strength, for fear of accidentally killing her...
If that that realisation alone wasn't enough to convince her to overlook the severity of her punishment, though, she had also woken this morning to see their oh-so-strict instructor sitting by her bedside, an ovoid bubble of half-formed Omnilium encasing the fucked up area of her right arm, as he focused on doing what little he could to accelerate the healing. It wasn't terribly effective, of course, since he lacked a true healing power, as some people in the Omniverse possessed... this was simply an attempt at spending Omnilium to summon new tissue and bone to replace the most badly damaged parts of her arm... yet it was still a kinder deed than she had expected of him.
Judging by what the medical droid had said when she'd questioned it once Hijiri had left (after she had driven him off, more like), the dumb Rabbit had shown up right after their training session had ended and got to working on her arm straight away; he hadn't slept a wink that night. It was ridiculous to think that the same man who had been willing to do that, despite there being no actual risk to her life, had been the same person who had, only hours previously, shown absolutely no remorse after being the one to purposefully break her arm in the first place.
She wondered if all tsunderes were supposed to be this exaggerated, or if he was just a particularly gross caricature, even for one of their kind...
“Hey, lady, what happened to your arm?” demanded a young, high-pitched voice from behind her. As the newbies finished flattening down the recruitment poster and picked up the large, cardboard tubes filled with similar artwork which Kroll had given them to stick up all around Northside, she turned to face her questioner, “Were you fighting bad guys? Did you win?”
It was a child, a little boy not even as high as her waist. The kid had no hair, but instead a pair of antenna-like protrusions on his forehead, as well as pointed ears and bright green skin. He was accompanied by a man of the same race, who immediately began scolding him for his rudeness, before apologising to the stormtrooper.
“Don't worry about it,” she told him, then smiled and crouched down to speak to the boy on his own level, “and no, kid, sorry to disappoint, but it was nothing so cool as that, just a training exercise that got a little rough... my friends and I, the stormtroopers who don't wear helmets, we're all such tough, elite soldiers because we have a Prime who teaches us all about fighting... buuut he's even tougher than we are, so his training is crazy hard and if you mess up you can get hurt pretty bad.”
“Woah, that guy sounds mean!”
“Yup, totally.” she nodded sagely, “He's a big, mean, ol' Rabbit.”
“A rabbit?” the boy sounded confused now. She laughed.
“Uh huh... well, he says he's a Rabbit anyway, though he just looks human most of the time... you never know with them Primes though, do you?”
“Uh, Singh... we're ready to move on.” one of the helmeted 'troopers said, a little nervously. That lot all seemed a little intimidated by the elites... especially now that the cat was out of the bag about their night-time training... though as of yet none of them were aware about Sarah's role in the whole thing, luckily.
“Ugh, fine. Sorry kiddo, I gotta get back to work... because apparently these two need constant supervision just to stick up a few posters.” she rolled her eyes at the boy, who laughed.
***
Today was a pretty good day.
Trying to appear friendly, as Kroll wanted from them all, Trevor flashed a smile at a small group of girls as he, Brandon and the helmeted stormtrooper passed them in the street. They all smiled back. Either because they'd heard about the scene Hijiri and Leon had caused the other day and appreciated that there were 'troopers out there who were actually doing a good job of policing this area, or, more likely, because they were a bunch of airheaded bimbos who saw his oh-so-handsome face and felt like that was enough of a reason to be attracted to him...
He had plenty of experience with that sort of thing. Back before he'd come to Tier Five and discovered that deep down he was actually a pathetic coward, Trevor had held a pretty high opinion of himself. He was told constantly that he was good-looking, he'd made it through stormtrooper basic training with ease, and he was honestly a pretty fit guy. In fact, it wasn't until he met Michelle that he'd found a woman unwilling to be easily convinced to sleep with him. She insisted that this was because he had only hung out with idiots in the past... and, as with almost everything she said, he had accepted these words as the truth without the slightest hesitation.
So now he couldn't help but look down on any woman who showed the least bit of interest in him without having to practically hear his life story first.
Did that make him an asshole?
Some people would say yes. Other people would probably also say yes... but Michelle would say something about the opinions of idiots not mattering, which was good enough for him.
It was just a pity that she (and everyone else he knew, for that matter) considered him an idiot, as well.
He was doing better though. Sure, it was a slow process, but he was gradually becoming more accustomed to being in the line of fire. One of these days he really would prove himself... first to the squad, then later, assuming Kroll's plan actually panned out the way it was intended to, to everyone in Coruscant. Like those of all the other members of their group, 'Trevor Dodson' would become a household name, associated by all with badassery and heroism. Surely, at that point, even a woman as demanding as Michelle would be willing to give him a second chance?
They walked down the street until they'd found what Brandon judged to be a decent place to paste some posters, then told the guy in the helmet to get to work on putting them up. They were out in public right now, after all, so the elf wasn't going to try and make him look stupid by forcing him to help the regular 'trooper. He was supposed to be a member of the 'elite' group, after all... so he simply got to stand back and relax whilst someone else did the menial work for once... it was another foretaste of what was to come. Yes, these guys may force him to perform all their tedious chores right now... but with him becoming less of a liability almost by the day and new 'troopers soon to be getting recruited, it wouldn't be long now, he was sure, before he was treated with proper respect.
Today was a pretty good day.
***
The three stormtroopers marched down the street, carrying cardboard tubes filled with posters. Unlike those so-called 'elites' with their ridiculous night-time training sessions, these men were actually disciplined. They followed proper protocol, and did not act frivolously in public.
They were boring.
They'd occasionally get a nod of respect from the odd citizen who both knew and cared about the EPD's recent efforts against the NSW... but nothing more. They weren't likeable figures.
They were pasting these recruitment posters because they knew that there would have been no point in arguing when that fake sergeant had suggested it. With the lieutenant gone, that Prime who called himself a rabbit was the highest ranking officer, and Kroll vor Iechtelsteir had him wrapped around his little finger. They would have ended up doing this either way, so there had been no point in resisting.
Whenever they paused to paste up a poster, one of the three would stick it up, whilst the other two turned their backs to him and faced out into the street, blasters held at the ready. One could never be too careful in a place like Tier Five, where danger could lurk around every corner... where any of these ordinary-looking people might easily be a killer, rapist or other undesirable.
They were too professional to speak of it, but each of them wished that they could have stayed up on Tier One or Two... down here, where the stormtroopers were almost as bad as the people they policed, they were unhappy...
***
Frank took a swig from his flask, then passed it along. The girl with the eyepatch took it from him, while her friend with the snake tattooed on her face passed along the joint they'd been sharing.
Their team's noob was busy putting up one of Kroll's dumb recruitment posters, while the squad's very clearly sleep-deprived Rabbit hung around talking to some random guy who'd approached him, probably bragging about how great and 'elite' they all were (in between yawns), or some such crap. Frank didn't care. He'd found a couple hot chicks, he had his booze, and now he had some kinda drugs too... he wasn't sure what, since he hadn't bothered to ask, but if his liver had survived years of alcohol poisoning, he figured this stuff probably wouldn't kill him either.
The girls were probably part of some minor gang, he'd guess (though he couldn't be sure, as this was Tier Five, after all, so even those not involved with the gangs were often a pretty rough bunch); most prim and proper ladies didn't generally have tattoos that covered half their faces, or one of their eyeballs gouged-out, after all... not that he really minded. Being frequently stationed on Tier Five, as Davion's squad had been, oh-so-often, had broadened his views a lot... and the constant alcohol abuse had helped in that regard as well...
The funny thing was, the squad had previously tried to keep him away from booze as much as possible, since he basically reverted to being just another boring, stick-in-the-mud stormtrooper when sober... well, aside from the constant craving for alcohol. Now that they were all so keen on braking the rules in order to enact that KRAP, though, suddenly the whole crew heartily approved of keeping him wasted at all times. They cared so much about it that Hijiri had even magicked up his flask with Omnilium, in that weird way Primes did stuff, so that now the small, metal container could hold far, far more liquid than it ought to be capable of. It would have been perfect, if only they hadn't insisted that he pay for the contents himself.
Which brought him to this point, here and now, drinking and smoking with these two probable criminals; hell, the one with the eyepatch was actually wearing a t-shirt with the slogan 'Fuck the Empire' emblazoned in large letters across her breasts... which was probably not something she'd get away with on Tier One, he figured...
They weren't wearing Wolfpack colours, though, so as far as he was concerned they were more or less all on the same side, for the time being, at least (since for some reason all the recent crimes they'd been dealing with in this area seemed to relate to those wannabe werewolves)... and so should take this opportunity to become better acquainted with one another... as he had made sure to mention to them both.
They seemed rather keen on the idea.
***
They had left the barracks empty when they headed out today for their patrols. All at the same time, Kroll had decided, rather than staggering them throughout the day, as they had yesterday.
This way it would be much easier to call for backup if trouble arose, since the whole squad would already be out in the field, and so could respond at a moment's notice... the only worry he had was that with the 'racks all vacant and locked up tight, any would-be recruits who came calling to join up would have no one to speak to... the others had reminded him, though, that such a thing was extremely unlikely to happen today, as their campaign had literally started just the day before...
So he agreed to have them all go out at once... for today, at least.
Though it seemed he needn't have bothered. Their allotted hours for the patrol were nearing their end and his team (which consisted of just himself and two of the guys sent down from Tier One) had already placed all of their posters, so were now making their way back to the 'racks.
It had been all quiet, it seemed. Not a single distress call – or even a remotely concerned call – had come through. They had even been ranging further from their base than before, seeking to spread these posters across as much of Northside as they could... yet had come across nothing that needed their attention.
It seemed like their actions were having some effect after all; the Wolfpack had been cowed by the increased pressure already, and it was only a matter of time now before the other gangs were as well...
His acronym may have been annoying, but Frank had clearly been onto something when he called Kroll's plan 'Really Amazing'. At this rate, Northside would be secured in no time, and then they could move on and expand out into one of the city's other districts...
***
The team consisting of Jallus Reiner, Leon Nash, and one of the helmeted, nooby reinforcements from Tier One, was the first back to base.
They had, purely by chance, been assigned a location nearer to the 'racks than any of the other teams, so it was only natural that they would be the first to return... despite Leon's apparent willingness to speak to practically everyone who showed the slightest interest in them.
For his part, Jallus just carried the latest novel he'd been reading in one hand, focusing more on that than on looking out for crimes in progress. Kroll had told them all that in order to be better recognised by the populace they must emphasise their differences... not wearing a helmet was merely the first step; in order for the citizens to truly see them as actual people, they would need to realise that the stormtrooper elites did not just have faces, but actual personalities to go with them as well.
Now, though, the precious book slipped from his fingers, landing forgotten on the paved path upon which they stood.
“This is bad.” Leon said, at practically the same moment.
“Yeah. No doubt about that.” Jallus replied, pulling his communicator free from his belt.
The helmeted guy just remained silent, like the minor, unimportant individual he was.
“Should we check it out?” the crimson-haired and -eyed 'trooper asked. Clearly unsure how to proceed in such a situation. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing they were taught in basic training... or in their nightly lessons with Hijiri and Sarah, for that matter.
“No.” Jallus shook his head, “They might not have left yet, we could be walking into a trap if we try anything ourselves. I'll call the others and have them meet us back here as soon as possible. Just in case.”
He didn't like killing, much less watching those he considered friends being killed... so this wasn't exactly his ideal job... having been far too naive to understand the realities of life as a soldier before he had joined up himself though, Jallus had foolishly imagined a series of heroic adventures and bloodless victories... and lacking any other skills of note, he had been left with little choice but to remain a stormtrooper, lest he be forced to risk facing the horrors of unemployment. As it happened, however, despite his distaste for it, Jallus was rather good at this soldiering business, all things considered. As such, in this instance at least, it seemed that Leon was willing to follow his lead.
“Alright, go ahead.”
He lightly tapped the screen of his Dataverse Device/Communicator, opening a group call to one person on each of their three-member teams.
“All teams, this is Jallus Reiner...” he hesitated a moment, not sure whether to keep this next bit all professional-like, or just not bother... “and I hate to tell ya this, guys, but you're gonna want to get back to the 'racks right now. We've... got a problem...”
The barracks door, which was supposed to simply slide into the wall when opened, had now been reduced to a crumpled mass of scorched metal in the doorway, complete with a hole easily large enough to walk through. Someone had broken in, and rather than simply trying to hack and override the control panel which granted or denied access – as a thief might – they had instead forced their way through, heedless of the far more severe consequences of such an aggressive action... it did not bode well for the squad that anyone would be confident enough to attempt anything so brash.
![[Image: Hijiri_Name_Sig.png]](https://image.ibb.co/k1H7Hd/Hijiri_Name_Sig.png)