Beyond the Horizon Run-On: TEAM 5
Please use the link above to read the opening fiction above and continue the story.
How does your team meet? Has your team been assigned to defend against the boarding party on one of the Plagueian ships? Has your team been assigned to clear the ground of the forces invading the planets throughout the Jusadih system? There are many possibilities for you to explore, use your imagination.
Please make each post follow on from the previous post. Each post must be at least 250 words to count. Each individual from the group must post TWICE
by the end of week 2 for the team run-on to count.
Placeholders may be used; all you need to do is post saying: "Placeholder" and you will hold that spot for a maximum of four hours. After that time, other people are allowed to follow on from the post prior.
It is up to you all how you organise posts and storyline. We suggest you start an email chain and brainstorm, but you are ultimately the ones posting.
-- Telum Van Umbra
Exterior of the Dark Hall
Ground and space was aflame as the colossal fleets vied for control of Antei and the Dark Brotherhood. All available Dark Jedi, all space-worthy vessels, all operable weapons were ordered into service. Zoraan's forces, even with their leaders destroyed, resolutely pounded upon the Dark Council's armada. They would succeed or die trying; retreat was not an option.
Troutrooper exited the Dark Hall and surveyed the situation. His task was complete. Now he was able to enjoy himself. “Where does the Brotherhood require the most assistance? In the skies against those white behemoths? Or on the ground against those who killed a Grand Master? Decisions...”
“Hear me...” A voice pierced his mind.
The Mon Cal furrowed his brow and sighed. “You are not my master. I will not blindly do your bidding. I completed my assignment. Perhaps not perfectly, but it is complete. I am at the Council's disposal, not yours.”
“Even in this fog stirred up by this war, clear visions are revealed to me. You will help me. I will become a master again. The key is Montresor. Find him and escort him to the Darkest Night.”
Troutrooper frowned. “You want me to find some random person and kill him? Don't you have other minions who are capable of—“
The voice's anger pulsed in the Dark Jedi Master's bulbous head. “The Darkest Night is an Arconan possession. You need to remain informed if you are to continue to be of service to the Council.”
“Touche,” the fish snorted. “I trust your visions though I wish you would give more than ambiguities for reasons. I will do this for you. I guess. Go back to your scheming.” Troutrooper felt the presence evaporate.
A whine above him shook him out of his telepathic stupor. He watched as a disabled shuttle tumbled towards the earth; the impending fireball would warm his clammy skin. He was about to let the shuttle crash and explode when the Force nudged him, an innocuous grazing across his mind. Looking up, the Dark Jedi Master focused on the shuttle. A wave of his flipper ripped the cargo door open. A body succumbed to the centrifugal force of the dying craft: a man was flung screaming to the earth. Troutrooper squeezed his flipper and pulled his arm back. The man and the shuttle slammed into the ground simultaneously. One emerged unscathed and bewildered, one was twisted and burned beyond even what Jawas would scavenge.
“Montresor, I presume.”
“I'll explain on the way. Your presence is requested elsewhere. Arise and follow.” Troutrooper turned to leave, but stopped himself for a moment. “Oh, and welcome to the Dark Brotherhood.”
BAC Darkest Night
Valhavoc stepped out of the transport which had brought him back to the Dajorra system from Lyspair. The area was a flurry of activity. Pilots rushed to their starfighters, ready to engage what remained of the invading forces. Astromech droids and mechanics completed hasty repairs to damaged craft so that they could once again join the fray.
Across the bay he spotted a familiar figure also exiting a transport, an individual that he had seen his old master conversing with from time to time. Something didn't fit though... Troutrooper wasn't affiliated with any Brotherhood units, why was he on the Galeres flagship?
The Knight crossed the area to the where the Mon Calamari was standing as he neared him he called out, "Master Troutrooper, I didn't expect to run into you here. What brings you to the Darkest Night?
Extending a flipper the Dark Jedi Master motioned to the man sitting nearby, "A mutual friend of ours wanted me to bring that one here. As usual, he didn't share much of his other plans."
Valhavoc looked the individual over, he appeared to have seen some better days. Walking over he offered the man his hand and pulled him to his feet, "Welcome to Arcona, got a name?"
The Sith nodded, "I'm Valhavoc. Seems someone thinks pretty highly of you to send a Dark Jedi Master as your escort. Stick around, I have a feeling there's more to the reason you've been brought here than we know yet."
Turning back to the fish Val remarked, "So TT, is this a seasonal migration from your usual waters or are you planning to stay?"
The Mon Cal burbled a chuckle then replied, "Hard to say, depends on how I adjust to the temperature."
Valhavoc grinned, "I suppose I should go find the Quaestor and let him know about our new additions. Montressor, if you need any gear for your kit you'll find the armory down the hall. I'll be back in a bit".
BAC Darkest Night
Sanguinius stood on the bridge looking out over what remained of a Heavy Cruiser. The Prelate issued his orders to this ship's crew, "Recall all starships to the hangars. Navigator, calculate a course to the Jusadih system. Contact me fifteen minutes prior to arrival."
As the Obelisk turned to review a nearby display showing the status of several Plagueis vessels he caught site of Valhavoc entering the bridge. The Knight approached him and bowed slightly before addressing the leader of House Galeres.
"Quaestor, I seem to have missed out on the war."
"Valhavoc... so you survived the Horizon Plague at the Shadow Academy. I suppose you're ready for some payback on those responsible then?"
The Journeyman's eyebrow arched as he considered the prospect, "Absolutely."
"Good. We're beginning our assault on the remaining forces in the Jusadih system shortly. The House will be breaking into strike teams to push back the invaders."
Valhavoc nodded, "In the hangar I ran into Master Troutrooper and a new member by the name of Montressor. I have a feeling they'll be willing to lend a hand... and flipper, after hearing they get to take a shot at those responsible for this attack on the Brotherhood."
"Bring Templar Vahillus as well, you'll find him with the rest of Spectre Cell. The old pirate could use something meaningful to take some of his aggression out on" Sang replied.
The Knight gave a brief bow and began to turn to depart.
"Valhavoc. One last thing, the Summit has decided that House Galeres is in need of another Battleteam, and someone to lead it. For now that responsibility rests with you. We'll address the members of your team after this operation ends. Gather a strike team and await further instructions."
Turning to face his Quaestor the Sith smiled, "Thank you for this opportunity sir. I'll do my best to serve Galeres and Arcona proudly."
In response the Obelisk nodded, then turned back to nearby displays. Valhavoc left the bridge and began to make his way through the corridors of Darkest Night to Spectre Cell's staging area in search of Vahillus.
The Dragon turned to the emissary and said "Go to the Darkest Night, the home of the Arcona Expeditionary Force. You will guide them to the Ascendancy."
In traditional Sith fashion the so called Sith Weapon balled his fist and struck his chest, and ended the salute with a curt bow. He turned on his heels and returned to the craft which he had arrived in. He strode up the ramp and strapped himself in. Turned to the pilot and gave the command to depart and make ready our arrival on the Darkest Night.
It almost felt fitting to go to that craft. Certainly it was immense in size, yet these crafts and ships and things did not matter much to the Former Tusken. They all served a purpose and that was to be the extended will of their controllers, for this one respected such things that can bring terror to millions of people. This was his aim. Terror was a powerful weapon. It needed to be used. Yet somehow the forces that have all but obliterated Plagueis seem to be operating on a level of terror that even he could not understand. Something deeper and more menacing was just beyond his grasp of understanding. He knew that were he was at did not matter much, yet he knew well what he was taught and could do those things when pressed. However, he could feel that the Dark Jedi Brotherhood needed to be more terrifying than the enemy at the gate. Could these ships be that? Something else needs to be done.
"We are Sith it is in our nature to compete." Those were the final words from his Master Kal Vorrac before he ended his formal training. The Arconans had so easily agreed to help. What would cause them to do this? If anything Telum would watch and observe and do as he must, yet these who would give their help so quickly cannot be trusted. "Trust is a powerful weapon. To hold suspicions against everyone can be a weakness, no make it into a strength. Make them believe you trust them." More words from his Master ran through his mind.
The smaller craft had docked with the Darkest Night, and as Telum disembarked he was met by the truth that something was not right about this.
BAC Darkest Night
Battleteam Spectre Cell Rendezvous Point
Living Quarters Deck B
“And I need all of you to keep in mind that this situation demands caution,” Etah announced to his assembled team, his eyes meeting the gazes of each individual member. “We will go, kick these bastards out, and return by any means necessary. But, I need each one of you alive in the end.”
In a far corner of the room, a shadowed figure cracked a sardonic smile. He’d heard many of these little ‘pep-talks’ before, from persons of various statures and ranks and all were quite the same. ‘Kill everyone but keep alive,’ was the main gist Kratus took from every single lecture.
Yet this one was different, theTemplar sensed, for there was another presence yet in the room, one he did not immediately recognize. What was more, the presence appeared to be moving, in his direction. He straightened almost at once, but Etah recognized the visitor before the Coruscanti even had a chance to look.
“Ah, Valhavoc. I was not aware of you giving up your Leader status to join my team,” he remarked wryly towards the newcomer.
“Alas Etah, that is simply not the case,” the other man returned with a favoring smile. “I am simply here at the Quaestor’s behest to borrow one of your members. Templar Vahillus.”
Etah seemed to think for a moment, then nod as something resurfaced in his mind. “Ah yes, I had been informed. Do what you will, but I want him back when this is over.”
“Rest assured, I’ll not keep him forever.”
Vahillus turned towards Valhavoc as the other man approached, his small exchange with Etah quite concluded. The Coruscanti grinned a little when the other man saluted him first, but he returned the gesture gladly. “Valhavoc,” he said, his voice as smooth as he could make it. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“Owe it to the Quaestor, it was his idea,” the other man returned, his tone even and businesslike. “Gather your things Vahillus, I have need of you. Do not dally, we are meant to meet the Plagueian emissary when he boards the Darkest Night and we still need to get back to Master Troutrooper and Montresor.”
Kratus’ remaining eyebrow rose slightly and he couldn't’ help but voice his thoughts aloud. “Why?” he asked. “Doesn’t he have some duty with the Consul? Why are we babysitting him?”
“We are not babysitting; it is an important assignment,” Valhavoc blustered. “You should know what benefits an alliance with Plagueis would bring and we all need to work together to destroy the enemy.”
“Whatever you say boss,” Kratus returned with a shrug, moving to gather his equipment. “I’ll be along.”
Troutrooper looked up at the approaching pair, pulling himself again out of his own thoughts. He nodded to Valhavoc before glancing at the newcomer with slight interest, which if Kratus had known whom he was, he probably would’ve been more grateful for a nod from the Mon Calamari. “Valhavoc welcome, and Templar Vahillus, I assume?” he stated when they had come within five feet of himself and Montresor.
“I have returned, just as I said I would,” Valhavoc replied. “Vahillus is Sanguinius’ addition to our team, he picked him personally. We also have orders, the four of us.”
“Yes,” Troutrooper stated, cutting Valhavoc off. “I know we are to meet the Plaguiean emissary. We should make haste, his shuttle approaches rapidly and we have two decks to descend to meet him.”
“Alright, hold on,” Montresor cut in, finally finding his voice after all of the shock he had just been through. “Will someone please explain to me what exactly is going on?”
All eyes immediately turned to him, yet he did not waver, a testament to his courage. Finally, Troutrooper was the one who spoke, his voice still immovably calm. “I shall explain to you on the way, but for now we must make haste. I’m sure you Arconans wish to make a good example towards your Plagueian guest.”
As Kratus was about to grumble in protest, Valhavoc replied swiftly, “Yes, for now.”
“Then let us depart from this chamber,” Troutrooper commanded, and on his cue, the entire party left the area, moving swiftly down to the hanger where Telum’s ship would be landing in only moments.
BAC Darkest Night
Corridor Leading To The Hangar
As the group moved along the narrow corridor towards the hanger the seemingly prophetic words of Valhavoc resonated inside of Montresor’s head. Indeed, there must be a greater reason he had been brought here. The gravity of the situation still eluded him, and the fact that a Jedi Master had been given the seemingly menial task of escorting him to the Darkest Night served to only complicate the situation in his own mind. Whatever this greater purpose or reason that Valhavoc spoke of currently seemed irrelevant. No amount of conjecture as to why he had been brought to the Darkest Night would change Montresor’s rookie status amongst the group. The glaring omission of a still unearned light saber served only to further degrade his credibility among his new comrades.
Ill equipped and Ill informed, the complexity of the situation was currently overwhelming at best to Montresor and time seemed to slow to a crawl as they moved along the corridor towards the hangar. How would he be received into the group? What had they collectively been called there to do? In Montresor’s mind questions were only answered with more questions.
He decided that his efforts would be best served on working to prove his mettle to his current companions. He was not quite sure how he would accomplish this seemingly insurmountable task but he was certain that he would get his chance in the days to come. Armed with a unwavering resolve to succeed Montresor again reflected on the words of Valhavoc….., “seems someone thinks pretty highly of you to send a Dark Jedi Master as your escort.” As the hanger doors opened and his fate awaited him a quiet confidence fell over Montresor. Now was his time and no one would regret their decision to bring him here…..
Hangar Bay Aurek-17
The last blaster bolt echoed through the hall, eliciting a couple cheers and a few sighs of relief. Battleteam Dark Forge, aided by Kratus Vahillus, Telum vas Umbra and Montresor, had just finished clearing the hangar bay. Smoke and ozonated air reflected the many activated warning sirens, stinging eyes and ears of the friendly boarders.
Protector Montresor's first kills as a Dark Brother lay twisted and deformed amidst the wreckage. He examined one, a Rodian with a splash of blood and gore where the right side of his face was ten minutes ago. “Not a bad shot” he said, nudging the corpse's head with his boot.
His protector grinned. “Indeed. Is that your actual first?” The ship shuddered a little underfoot.
“Nah. My first was on the other side,” he pointed at a burn mark framed with blood across the room. “Got him as we landed. Thanks for covering me.”
“You are my charge. I've got your back, I will see you through this. Or we both die. One of the tw—“
The Mon Cal was interrupted by a landing craft as it plowed into the hangar. Weapons were drawn but were stowed when the Soulfire Strike Team piled out of the landing craft. Valhavoc greeted the strike team warmly.
Montresor examined the marching matching suits of armor. “Mandalorians?”
Troutrooper shrugged. “Some are, some aren't. Once the armor is on, they're Mandalorians regardless of actual race. Unfortunately, their armor does not improve their physical attributes at all, only decreases their mental attributes and abilities.”
A trooper stopped and stared at the Mon Cal. “Fish fight for the New Republic,” the Mandalorian's curling trigger finger revealed the feelings his vocoder belied.
Troutrooper gurgled a chuckle, a flippertip flicking lightly. “And Mandalorians fight for whomever shovels the most credits at them.” The entire strike team stopped and turned daggered eyes towards the Mon Cal. Several weapon safeties were clicked off. “Good to know where we stand in each other's eyes. Now, can we proceed with the mission? I can kill y'all once we're done.” He brushed past a pair of brooding troopers, knowing their helmeted eyes were boring holes through his bulbous head. The insulting trooper aimed his blaster at the fish, but decided against firing when Troutrooper's lightsaber lit up in his face, its tip two centimeters from his jugular. “Thank for standing down, trooper,” the Dark Jedi Master said over his shoulder. “When I said, 'later', I meant, 'after we're done with this mission', not 'two seconds later'.” He held up a flipper and his blade flew to him.
Valhavoc snarled as his subordinate stopped next to him. “Could you not antagonize our backup? Remember, they're watching all our backs.”
Troutrooper shrugged. “They have to shoot through Monty to get to me.”
“Thanks,” the Protector frowned. “Good to know my escort has my back.”
“Always,” the Dark Jedi Master smirked as he looked around. “Never been on one of these pocket destroyers before. Anyone know which way to go?”
BAC Darkest Night
45 minutes earlier...
The group of Arconans entered into the hangar where the Emissary from House Plagueis had docked. Telum was just stepping out of the craft as the four Dark Jedi approached.
An Elder, Equite, Knight, and Journeyman... a capable group... perhaps too capable. What angle is Arcona playing?
Valhavoc stepped forward and addressed Telum, "Greetings Emissary. Our team has been instructed to assist you with your House's recent... infestation."
"You just point us in the direction of those mercenary scumbags and we'll take care of what you Plagueians couldn't," Kratus called out with a grin. From the corner of his cybernetic eye Kratus caught a glimpse of a short glare Valhavoc had shot his way.
A nearly mechanical voice broke forth from behind the Plagueian's mask, "The Ascendancy... we must hold it. We should head there immediately."
Montresor began walking towards a nearby Nu Class Attack Shuttle, calling out to the group, "Lets get moving then, all this standing around and talking is killing me."
Troutrooper let the Journeyman walk away a few steps before looking at the others and quietly saying, "Initiative... he shows promise."
Kratus scoffed. "Seen lots of folks in my day with... initiative. Most of them don't make it through the first firefight" the grizzled pirate captain replied.
"I'll see that this one does" the Dark Jedi Master responded. Together the two began following behind the Journeyman towards the waiting shuttle.
Valhavoc turned to Telum once again, "The Nu Class probably has a better chance of breaking through the enemy fleet and making it onto the Ascendancy in one piece than your Firespray. You coming with us?"
"I prefer a more... familiar craft" answered the Plagueian.
"I understand... we have something in common you and I"
Telum nodded and paused for a moment before replying, "We don't trust each other... it is right... as Sith we have no reason to... and clearly, I stand apart from the other Sith within your group"
The Arconan looked straight into the glassy eyes on Telum's mask, "Just don't forget who's bailing your House's ass out of this situation you're in. I'll see you on the Ascendancy."
"My only concern is for my Master, Kal Vorrac. I will not be deprived the privilege of ending his life personally by some fool mercenaries." As Valhavoc walked towards the shuttle he heard the haunting mechanical voice call out a final time, "Remember who's starship you'll be on Arconan. I'll be watching."
Hangar Bay Aurek-17
As the group began moving towards the exit to the hangar the entire Starship shuddered. Valhavoc turned to look back at the team, Troutrooper was the first to answer, "They shut down the engines. We're sitting womp rats until someone gets them back online."
Valhavoc began walking to Chief Elgar as he spoke quickly into his communicator, "Etah. I'm sure you've noticed the Ascendancy just lost its engines. I've got Soulfire with me, we're on our way there now."
"Roger. Spectre Cell will clear out the upper levels" the Templar replied.
Looking up to the Mandalorian's helmet the Knight narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice, "Chief, tell your Commando's they'll live alot longer if they don't poke the fish. We already have enough to watch out for, being on an enemy occupied Starship of a potential rival House."
"Understood, sir. It won't happen again" the Clan Chief responded through his vocoder. Almost in unison the group of Mandalorians nodded.
"Let's move folks! Spectre is covering down on our earlier mission, we're retaking the engines" Valhavoc called out to the team.
Briefly Valhavoc shot a glance over towards Telum, "I assume you approve?"
Hangar Bay Aurek-17
The snort of derision was processed as a low growl by the vocoder on the Sith's mask. He fondled the Krayt Tooth dagger at his waist before turning to accompany the Arconan team he had been foisted upon. His queastor, and his hands said nothing about having to help the assisting Arconans. Indeed their aide, these few, these, teammates work in unison, and they help one another. If anything Telum could help them too.
The Mandalorians had marched past and lead the assault that would trace a path of least resistance to the engineering section of the great Ascendancy. Umbra, having spent time with the small merc's hired by Plagueis shouted above the sounds of armor "OYA!" which was unanimously echoed by every single Mando present. The curious looks aimed at the Plagueian's directions could only mean that the Arconans had not a clue.
"It means 'lets hunt' and more importantly 'stay alive.' Which is not a sentiment I currently hold for any of you. Regardless get your weapons up. As for me I am armed and ready to bring slaughter to these people."
Red bolts of death splashed down the corridors, the swinging thrum of lightsabers made their customary sizzled searing sounds as each energy weapon sliced through armor, flesh and bone. Once they arrived at the engine room the enemy had thought it wise to leave behind only a few guards and a smattering of Dark Jedi.
Another sneer, or growl, rather vibrated through the room originated from the the Former Tusken.
"Ah, Vorrac's pit dog has come to the rescue of the ship," spoke the central figure. A Dark Jedi by looks. The dark helmet and glistening armor did not distinguish this one as a leader, but perhaps a second in command of this group that tarried here to keep the engines down.
Valhavoc turned to Umbra, "I guess that one is all yours. We got the rest."
Time and existence ceased to be as the Weapon of Vorrac approached the blasphemer. He ignited his lightsaber which formed a solid beam before it flashed out of existence, by skittering into several million useless fragments of energy. The enemy Dark Jedi laughed, yet Telum continued the swing towards the figure as if the beam was still ignited. Just as it would have struck against the armor the Dark Jedi's eyes flashed and he brought his own beam up in time to catch the whispered reigniting crimson blade to emit the crackling sparks of lightsaber on lightsaber. By the look of surprise this would be a chance to use Soresu in a defensive offensive manner. Strike after strike from the enemy was parried enraging the figure more. Telum quickly grew tired of the dance and sidestepped to swing at the chest piece but redirected it up at the figures face. Of course the other would have made an easy block if the true target was the chest, yet since it was not the helmet on the other was easily sliced from chin and up diagonally through his right eye. The beam was only intended to inflict superficial damage, but was enough to pass by and melt the eyeball in the bowl of its socket like wax.
A red beam inserted the man from his back side, and Telum danced back out of the way with a quick turning out cast spin that decapitated the enemy Dark Jedi. The owner of the other beam: Valhavoc. "Look around you, we don't have time for you to play with your prey regardless of his temptations! The engines are back up. Let's move to help save the rest of the ship."
Valhavoc I am going to destroy you, thought the Dark Weapon as he followed his team out of the engine room and into the corridors.
Initiative…it was a word that reverberated through Montresor’s head as they moved along the dimly lit corridor in route to the next objective. Shadows cast from the flickering lights seemed to bring to life the innumerable mutilated corpses of the once proud slain enemy forces like a Vong Dance Macabre. Kratus in his infinite wisdom had questioned Montresor’s initiative prior to the battle to retake the engines. As he most eloquently put it, “most don’t even make it through their first firefight.” Indeed, Montresor was a novice journeyman to his newfound comrades. However, Kratus was not privy to the closely held secrets of his past. Montresor was battle tested long before he joined this group and certainly no stranger to the horrors of war. Furthermore, he knew quite intimately the danger of blind ambition and foolish pride in a combat setting. Certainly, it would be wise for Kratus to not confuse an unrelenting resolve to mission success and the well being of his comrades with blind ambition.
It was Montresor’s hope that his actions to date during this battle provided some level of clarity to his comrades in regards to his combat mettle. Not one to rest on his laurels the journeyman knew that he was only as good as his last battle and that earning the trust of those around him was paramount to his future success amongst the group.
It was in this moment that he was startled from the depths of his own thoughts. Valhavoc, who was leading the movement, confidently kicked aside an enemy corpse blocking the passageway. Prior to moving into the next corridor Valhavoc turned to Montresor and in a quiet tone barely audible to the rest of the team whispered, “Keep up the good work Monty…. there is much left to do but you might but be just what this team needed.” It was a seemingly fleeting confirmation of his worth to the team, but to the young Sith it served to strengthen his resolve. He knew he had been hand selected to join this group, although much of the reasoning behind it eluded him. He knew that spending his time contemplating the why in this moment would certainly make him a detriment to the team. In the interim it was his duty to fight valiantly for his new found cause……all else would be revealed in due time…
“Montresor!” came a short metallic bark from behind the Journeyman.
The Protector spun slightly to face the approaching cyborg, looking immensely confused as to the reason Kratus was stopping him of all people.
“Vahillus,” he murmured, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Don’t you have better things to do than talk to me, being an Equite and all?”
Both ice blue and deep red eyes gazed back into Montresor’s as the cyborg halted his approach, nodding briefly to Troutrooper who stood just beyond, impatiently awaiting the next course of action.
“It isn’t often I do this,” Vahillus began, leaning against a bulkhead casually. “But I felt it only necessary to say that you fought well. That said, you still let Troutrooper do most of the work.”
Montresor’s eyes lit up in protest, but soon changed to humor as the cyborg began to chuckle whilst he walked away, leaving the Protector to await further commands in his own fashion.
Kratus next approached Troutrooper, though he stayed a short distance from the Mon Calamari, knowing the “welcome” the troopers had received upon getting too close to the venerable figure.
“So, what happens now? We sit here and await further orders?”
“For now,” Troutrooper returned quietly. “But if none are forth-given, I shall simply do as I please. I am not bound to your petty Clan or this House.”
“Fine by me,” Kratus said with a shrug, again leaning against a bulkhead. “Just wanted a little more target practice is all.”
After a moment, Troutrooper stated, only to where the Equite could hear, “You know Montresor is right over there.”
Both Kratus and Troutrooper began to laugh at the statement before turning and preparing for further instructions in their own separate ways.
Troutrooper watched the group make final preparations for their assault on the upper decks. The first part of their mission was complete: the engine room had been cleared and all resistance neutralized. They now had to reach the upper decks and rendezvous with Etah's team.
Ready for combat, the Mon Cal appraised his teammates now that they had fought together. His bulbous eyes fell first onto Kratus. Confident to the point of arrogance, capable in combat, he and the many others like him are why Arcona is the First Clan of the Brotherhood: rocks upon which mighty Clans are built.
From Kratus, he looked towards Montresor. And he is why Arcona will remain the First Clan for a long time. Most new members are either terrified of combat or filled with stupefying bloodlust. Both conditions get them killed. But Monty...He's neither afraid nor desirous of combat. Much potential in him. Pravus found a great one.
Montresor asked Valhavoc a question, so Troutrooper's wandering eye fell upon his Battleteam Leader. And the Corellian is why Arcona will continue to flood the Dark Council. Energetic, intelligent, determined, if he keeps this up, who knows how high he'll end up. Good men are hard to find. Good leaders even more so. The richest Clan gets richer.
That left Telum, the Plagueis emissary who personally petitioned Lord Consul Wuntila for assistance. A willing, capable fighter. The Dark Side flows freely through him even though he's mostly metal. He must learn control. Still, always good to have a rager on one's side. Unfortunately, once we've finished here, he'll be on the opposite side. A Plagueian worthy of notation.
The Mandalorians grunted something in unison and the group moved out. Troutrooper lagged near the back, close enough to Montresor to protect him, far enough to let him prove himself to Kratus and Valhavoc. A strange group indeed. The Plagueian emissary, an Elder so new to the Clan he still got the Consul and ProConsul confused, a member so new he hadn't yet seen Selen or Antei, the Brotherhood newest Battleteam Leader who was outranked by all his troopers, and a cyborg pirate. All of us are expendable, none of us are all that close. Why did Wuntila put us together? What was his ulterior motive?
A blast shook the Dark Jedi Master out of his revelry. Well, whatever the reason, it will be revealed in time. Right now, back to work...