: agents of the dawn

[Icaro]

[premise: set aboard STRAWMEN's only ship, Tetragrammaton. your characters have been hand picked and assembled aboard the ship for the STRAWMEN retinue of the Imperial Knights, you have been called to the War Room for your first briefing]​

Despite the fact that he had given his squad ample time to go ahead in the War Room before him, they would find as they opened the large double doors that Kiln Roh, famed Soldier of Freedom and newly appointed Justicar of the Imperial Knights forces, was sitting at the head of a large machine which nearly resembled an intricate Galaxy Map. His battle-hardened mind touched gently on the swelling tumor that was the Map’s face before lifting off and focusing on the recruits who would accompany him in the War Room for their briefing.

A part of him was sad that the Jedi Orion would not be here today. Pushing him until his thin arms snapped would have been a pleasure nearly akin to slaying the empire himself.

Gevurah, which he held in his right hand, was brought up and impaled on the sheath beside the chair he sat on. Sparks flew from the wedged blade, flickering off the Justicar’s skin and tracing spider web arcs into the air. He paid them no mind. Some who met him in another life claimed that his veins flowed with lightning and that he couched thunder on occasion. He took a childish amusement out of such rumors; only a god could do such things and Kiln fancied himself no god.

A fear clutched him at the prospect of the lower cased god and he spasmodically clutched the cross he wore around his neck. His thumb ran across the engraving on its silver surface. As though blind he could read the word “Din” across the length of the cross with naught but his digits. It was a phrase he had sculpted into reality with fury and revolution.

The double doors began to swing open and Kiln brought himself to stand next to the myriad machines. One would be able to discern the circular shape nearly uniform to a sphere, along with the STRAWMEN insignia emblazoned here and there across its chasse, and the rail gun a yard away would further cement the idea that he had something terrible in mind. Dumbfounded with the squad’s slowness to come when called, he waited.

The War Room was a wide semi-circle of steel and technology. Hundreds of simulations could be run within the large room, all dangerous, and many had died underneath the hidden dangers the room held. But nothing would hinder nor aide the Squad that day. The War Room had been switched off and stood sentinel as a large gray obelisk with naught but the hulking hill Kiln stood on and the Justicar himself.

“What took you?” he asked, lazily.

Nothing more would be uttered from the acting Justicar until the remaining actors took their place on the stage.

 

[Orphen]

Ethan Docked the Heartbreaker in the Port of the Strawmens' Flagship. Although he felt slightly bad for the opponents of the STRAWMEN... they didn't stand a chance. Ethan was promised the chance to spearhead into enemy lines. Ever sinse the purge he hadn't seen any 'real' action. Walking on board he had a look around, following the flow of the ship to the bridge, he heard the man speak, far before he heard his physical words, counting down the seconds, he heard the soundwaves collide with his eardrums as his mind was processing his reply.

Sorry about that, i had to get my ship back after saving a broad from a couple of undesirables. Unfortunatly her ship... didn't suit my tastes after i dropped her off. Ethan smiled a wirey smile before leaning up against one of the monitors. His two pistols hung at either of his sides. His eyes and head tilted low. The echani Navy tought you a couple of things about piloting as the underdog.

You were always outnumbered

You were always outgunned

But you had to rise up against it in skill. Be the best, or be amongst the dead. His squad the black wings were all now long amongst the dead. Though he still remained. This position was perfect.

So, what's the news Sir... How many others are we expecting?

 

[Xyrael]

"Heh, you know, gotta make an entrance," Ishkur shrugged as he walked into the room. He wasn't wearing anything that immediately proved he was a member of the STRAWMEN, since he had been on his own for some time prior to today. It'd be pretty unfortunate to be intercepted wearing some ceremonial uniform, he'd figured. He was still the man Kiln Roh had recruited, a man with ghosts for memories, eager and desperate to see what mission was to come next.

Instead of pushing forward with another question, though, he'd let the others around him press the issue. He knew a job was coming, and whether or not he spoke up wouldn't make a difference. In situations like these it was probably best to shut up and listen, and learn more about those others around him.

 

[Number-75]

Claire entered the room seconds after Ishkur, smiling at the occupants already inside. She was dressed plainly, like any other civilian that one would see on a planet. However, she had opted to leave her eye-patch off for this meeting and to keep her SMG and blaster pistol on her person, just in case of an attack.

She was still on her guard though, even as she entered the room. Already, she was scanning the area for possible cover, traps or cameras along with anything that could be potentially used as a weapon. She was also trying determine how long it would take her to leave this room and make it back to where her ship and equipment was.

Still, this was all just a force of habit. One did not survive being an insurgent leader by being relaxed for ten years without being extremely lucky, arrogant, or both. One survived by being planned, constantly looking out, and being prepared for the worse but expecting the best. But, she doubted that the meeting could possibly go so bad that it would require her to fight her way back to the ship.

She pulled a chair out and sat down, looking towards Kiln as she did.

"I presume that you have called us here today to discuss our potential deployment or to have introductions? I am sure that only one or two of us are even aware of who everyone else in this room is and even that is unlikely."

 

[Icaro]

Theme

Kiln looked over the three, bright scarlet pools panning lazily along them as they entered one by one. He was smiling atop his throne in the centre of the room like a hyena. His grin subsided once the squad stopped speaking after entering and he took a few steps forward, hopping off the side of the galaxy map and landing lackadaisically on the steel floor before him.

“My name is Kiln Roh,” he began, his demeanour grave “Let me get this started by saying that I am not your commanding officer,”

Kiln began to pace, like a general out of a war film. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his green coat, something out of a military surplus store. Made for an admiral, with all the trimmings, medals earned in battles Kiln himself had never seen, commendations, ribbons of rank and prestige strewn across it.

“While I do not distinguish myself as your commander,” He started up again, “I expect there to be no hesitation when I ask you to do stupid, often suicidal things,”

“War is my blood,”

“War defines us,”

“Soon we’ll be entering Imperial space, and once we do, there will be no turning back,” He said, removing his left hand and clicking his fingers once. In response, the intricate galactic map at his back would light up, turning Kiln into nothing more than an imposing silhouette.

“I will offer you a chance to leave, but I already know you won’t take it,” he said, his voice powerful and disembodied due to the light behind him obscuring his form “You won’t take it because you can taste the blood in my throat, and you can feel the tingling spark inside you that says this is bloodlust at it’s finest,”

“This is revolution, salvation, reverence, evanescence,” He would throw his arms sideways and step forward, coming into focus before them, the three-dimensional map at his back circling around his body like a halo, his voice rising in crescendo “Vengeance, power, murder, terrorism, redemption, honor,”

“We will be hunted,” he said, turning away “We will be hated,”

“But we’re going to be pretty badass while we do it,”

 

[Orphen]

Something i want to see is coming through that door right...

Ethans' eyes watched Claire from the second she walked into the room. His deep galaxylike eyes swirling in wonder as he attempted to conceptualise what she was thinking, how she thought, hos she moved. But he didn't reach out his force trained mind. No, he couldn't do that, it would break the mystery. Though she would possibly, and most probably resist such and infringement. Which would only prove to bury him socialy. So he watched, a subtle smirk across his place.

At least, i have something here to fight for...

He thought to himself closing his eyes slowly, and reopening them on his CO as he felt that he would begin talking. He listened to his speech, and really felt like clapping, his spirits rose a little. And it seemed this increadibly charismatic individual though Ethan didn't leap up in his seat, scream HAZZAR and proclaim his eternal loyalty to the cause. He was a little more reserved than that. He did however feel a strong sense of intruige from Kiln, he seemed just as reckless and suicidal as Ethan could be. He felt as if Kiln was the kind, like him, who knew his own capabilities to a 'T' who knew exactly what he was capable of... either that, or Kiln was an absolute idiot who was gonna get them all killed. Ethan had a feeling he was going to have to dedicate some time in finding out which one Kiln exactly was...

He sensed acceptance from the result of his next comment.

Well then, if we're gonna be fighting and dying for you. At the very least, I drive... Accept that, and i'm in without question... at last I can get us the hell out of any situation His eyes wandered to the other two and back to Kiln. pausing as his eyes searched for a reaction. Feeling little, again trying to resist the urge to pry into the nearby future. It was adictive... but tiring over long periods of time.

 

[Xyrael]

(damn late, sorry about that, lots of college work)

"Works for me," Ishkur shrugged, "I wasn't expecting anything different, at any rate." He was excited to be returning to the Empire, to sow havoc and discord. It had been too long since he had been back, too long since he had faced down those that had destroyed what he knew. Whether or not he died killing them wasn't a concern for him anymore. The only way he could define his death was in the number of bodies that were buried in the same grave as his own. He let a wry grin cross his face as he pictured what mission lay ahead of them. He was prepared to use his skills for this man, this Kiln Roh, so long as he let him kill the Sith.

 

[Number-75]

Claire's gentle smile never left her face as she listened to Kiln speak. It seemed that she had chosen her side correct this time and that she could still continue to do what she did best, only now she had reinforcements. As she contemplated the new ways and methods of raising hell on imperial planets and the terror she will be able to instill in those loyal to the Sith, her smile took a slightly insane edge, showing a slightly disturbing amount of teeth while the light in her eyes went from warm and gentle to cold and steeled. However, it quickly disappeared and was replaced by her usual smile and amused look. While she did no know for sure, she could feel that this would be a nice way to spend the rest of her life. She doubted that she could retire into civilian life anyways, too many scars for her to just simply retire and live peacefully. Hell, if she had to retire, she would rather charge an enemy position with a truck filled with explosives then to hang up her guns and detonators for good.

With a quiet amused chuckle, she spoke. "Hmmm, It seems that you all would need help in achieving infamy. Fortunately, you shall have my assistance. And the large cache of explosives, traps, and chemical weapons I currently have sitting in my ship. Do not worry, they are not armed. If they were, I probably would not have transported them in the first place. " She paused and looked at the group of people before her, realizing that she knew absolutely nothing about the people around her. That could prove problematic in a situation in which she couldn't predict or guess at how they could potentially react, like a mission where she would have to eliminate noncombatants or turn back on their word to hit a target. She remembered working with someone who could not harm children once. He had almost informed the local authorities before she managed to silence him.

"While I am on the subject, I might as well introduce myself. You may not care, but the information could come in use some day. Continuing, I am Claire Ross, professional Guerrilla. Yes, it is quite contradictory. However, I have spent the last ten years organizing small uprising and terrorist acts against the Imperials as a method of vengeance for the slaughter of my squad. Although I have spent much of my time setting up rebellions, I actually do enjoy teaching people things such as how to create and place an improvised explosive device, the proper usage of vehicle bombs, how to survive in wilderness situations, and the proper way to use a coffee machine."