Warzone: Sarapin

[Aurelias Kazaar]

The Rebel Calamari Cruiser- Imonsterg's Trust- In Orbit Over Sarapin

Captain Christof Ohlund's long strides made it easy for him to cross the long rows of Rebel soldiers, as they waited for the order to board the HTT-26 heavy troop transports and head for the planet below.

They were reinforcments for the Rebel forces currently on the lava-caked planet's surface, who were in the midst of a fierce war of attrition. Both sides had all ready suffered horrific casualties and the stalemate was rather surprising, considering how strong of a hold the Empire had once had on the galaxy's largest energy producer.

But the hold had been broken twice, Ohlund thought with a smile. Even if briefly.

The Rebel captain stopped at the end of the line, his eyes sweeping down the row of soldiers. He'd served with most of them since the Battle of Endor and he trusted them. A trust he didn't extend to the two latest additions of his company.

One of them was a Corporal, her brown hair streaked red and cut to normal military standards. She'd introduced herself as, "Maree O'Donnell", with confidence only a trained army specilist could have, but Ohlund didn't think she'd been in the military long.

Whoever this "Corporal Maree O'Donnell" was...someone was looking out for her.

The other transfer was a private named Joe Bidwell, . Like O'Donnell, Bidwell's hair was red and cut to military standards. He was a rather large man, musclar and didn't look like he took poodoo from anyone. Which, the Rebel captain noted, was probably why he was still a private. But something else about this 'Bidwell' character gnawed at Ohlund. He was cocky for sure, that damn smirk on his face said so, and Ohlund's instincts screamed there was something else about him. But he wasn't about to ask his superiors why.

Especially after a sergeant, following normal protocol, was admonished by a superior for attempting to assign O'Donnell and Bidwell to different platoons. The order was clear, and came down very quickly: Corporal O'Donnell and Private Bidwell were to stay in the same squad and NOT be separated.

It was an order Ohlund raised his eyes at, but obeyed none the less.

He had a battle to run.

"Listen up!" his raised raised voice echoed through the bustling hangar, "We've got a big enough hole to punch our way to the boys on the ground! Ground reports say the Imps've just gotten done with a major push through our trenches. They're running a little low on stamina, so what we're gonna do is hit the ground hard and try to push 'em back. Make sure your rebreathers are in working order. If one breaks, let the tech know, he'll fix it as quickly as possible.

"Everyone's got their orders! Squads A through C get on the first HTT-26. D through F get on the next one! Let's move out!"

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As Squad F started t'make their way onboard their transport to th'ground, Private 'Bidwell' smirked beneath his grey helmet. It was kinda nice t'be back in the army. Even if his mission was different from their own.

He slid down next to Corporal 'O'Donnell' and whispered in her direction, "Ya'd think some techie woulda made these helmets 'cigar friendly'."

The smirk on Joe Bidwell/Aurelias Kazaar's face could almost be seen through his helmet.

"Ready for ya first 'military' action, Kid?"