Scya

Here are my bad notes!

---

1) For the group rate hotel. They are booking slowly. K'lon is unsure if people are not booking because they are worried they are locked in in some way. They say "don't worry", it is not a problem in that way (from what I understand). But it is important to book early because we have a "block" of 15, and the sooner we fill it open, the sooner we'll be able to make sure future Remnants attendees will be able to get their price locked in for the next block of 15.

2) Medinari shares that if you booked, OR you are looking to book, please fill out the form. It helps with figuring out the blocks. If you put "thinking of attending" and then booked after, go fill it out a second time ^ form

3) K'lon says you can add days. But you don't get the group rate. Just ask them when you reserve! At the same time, or later, you can always add dates later.

5) K'lon, Medi, Yiss, Val, Doccs, Anna are the working group. Any questions? Ask them or post in this #roh-meetup discord channel!

6) The interest group on the forums is also having a lot of info!

7) There's lots to do in vegas. not just casinos. People are talking about what to do and ideas for vegas fun.

Val has never been to Vegas and knows that gambling is a big part of Vegas, but they are not a big fan of that. So they are looking into non-casino activities. 

- One of the most attractive to them is The Grande Canyon. It is a 1-day trip, can take a tour, or rent a van or go by ourselves, whatever is cheaper and conventient. -- Probably best day for this is Sunday.

- Another is rollercoasters! The New York New York casino for thrill seeking.

 -Jokingly they say they will plan a separate trip to visit Wal-Mart since they are not in the USA.

- Red rock is another national park that is more nearby to vegas than the grand canyon.

- "The O" is a show of Cirque de Soleil, it's a "water show" in the Bellagio. A few people really want to go. See post up in interest group in the forums. Probably have to be Friday-Sunday so we can go - its not every day 

- If you want to do ANYTHING and want to find a group to do it with, post in the interest group! shopping, mob museum, sky diving, etc the only way to find out if people want to go is to ask! don't be afraid to ask. a lot of people wanna do a lot of different thins.

9) Also post in interest group for ride share, room share, etc on the interest forum! says K'lon

10) Yiss says they are getting a "van" to "go places". Like wal-mart and get a stash of stuff. They say an iternary / plan helps a lot to stop rushing around. If you have any ideas, big or small, half-bekd or full, throw it out there so it can be planned out by the group

11) If you are the kind of person who just wants to hang out in their room and just visit that is fine too!

12) Saturday 2 - 8 there will be a room reserved for a "party" or something

13) Benz is going to stream tomorrow games, Ann is doing something next month, Topher was thinking of doing something, maybe something month after, to raise funds to pay for those who couldn't otherwise come and help cover shared costs like a van for things everyone is doing together. K'lon encourages you do donate.

14) K'lon says even small amounts like  $1-$2 adds up for a donation to the funds!

15) K'lon says if you want to volunteer to help with tasks while in vegas please contact them. Want to be a greeter? etc!
Or help with tasks like a rsvp list, organizing trip to grande canyon beforehand, etc
if interested in volunteering let the team know.

16) Topher requests spread the news to every division! Since there is a lot of ESO people, but everyone is welcome and invited
It just kinda happened cus K'lon and Val started planning and roped in people they new, but they would love if you talk to other divison friends and not crate the impression it's an ESO thing

17) K'lon is gaging interest and wanted to ask: there are some people who like to party, some who don't and some who can't.
K'lon wants to crate a space that is safe for clean and sober, or people who are awkward around alcohol, within the RoH event.
RoH meeting on saturday, potentially the first three hours alcohol free, then after that, non-alcohol free, and then after that it's up to others.
Of course, what everyone decides to do during the non-RoH events is up to them.
ex even if 1 person out of 10 is uncomfortable, we want them to feel comfortable.
ex one player said "what if I enjoy to drink all day?" jokingly. But options floated are... maybe they could attend later in the day. Maybe limit drinking minimally so not fully drunk when they attend early. etc.
K'lon says we support you, to those who would like a quieter time or have special requests or needs to carve out a comfortable space for everyone. Please contact K'lon privately.
Cus we need to start talking about it now to make it easier to plan, rather than last-minute
"It might take a bit of planning but we're will to make everyone included"

18) Vale says for specific diets... we are going to go and buy stuff at walmart if you need something outside of a typical restaurant. This is Vegas, if you have dietary restrictions, you should be fine. There is options everywhere. Topher suggests potentially a buffet since lots of options there
So we can buy stuff from the grocery store if you struggle to eat common restaurant food (vegan, vegetarian, lactose free, etc)
19 You are welcome to make your own arrangements for where you want to stay if you don't want to stay in the group's hotel.

20) You are welcome to invite frinds and family.

21) Scya asks - will we re-check where Cornavirus safety status is again closer to, since it's fluxuating a lot? K'lon says we can vote/talk about ti closer too yes. We may hve to move it for heat anyway.

22) Player asks - can we check vaccination statues for our group? ... good question. no real answer I think. More discussion happening. Will also need to to discuss closer to. Feel it out better then.

23) Player recommends that you wear a mask / vacc regardless of the laws. Vegas is an intersection of many places and people so be as careful as possible.

24) Tshirts? K'lon says they need a volunteer to help set it up form the team. Scya has a ton of info, she can set everything up once a desing is chosen, but she wants someone from the team to help figure out how to pick the design. Medi says she can pick it up later, Req says we won't do this right away either. @Requian will head up the tshirt project in late september. Req message Scya when you are ready!

25) Special Nametags? Scya will design, Medinari will print!

Very interested in this with Mr Scya!

@Owyn @Sayuri @Merliah @Aedi Lanigiro @Hippy @brnji @Andah Eliian my husband keeps asking me to put the video public, does anyone have any objections to this 

Due to my rough schedule and always being exhausted going into these late night raids, I had been considering dropping out even though I enjoyed it so much... but after looking at the few clips I'd accidentally recorded between fights I was laughing too hard I don't think I can leave now

@Owyn @Sayuri @Merliah @Aedi Lanigiro @Hippy @brnji @Andah and @Katalaw and @Neo for good measure

Hi @Qera what time is this at? EST

The young Jedi had not seen her since before Zakuul had invaded Republic space, but Larial's death would ripple across the many Force users in the galaxy, and her pain reached Cimerine even in the dark forests of Yavin 4. She braced herself, her meditations interrupted as a wave of energy swept over her. She focused - no, it was not so much her pain, but rather her connections the Jedi felt... her daughter, her friends, her lovers past and present... the woman's death would be one that affected people across the galaxy. Cimerine could feel it, she had not passed yet, but her time was near.

The Mirialian shook her head sadly and stood up. Though she was a friend, a colleague, and Larial had surely seen her grow form a padawan to a Jedi in the few times they had met, she knew their connection was not nearly as strong as those who rushed to her side. If there was anything to be done... they would do it.

Cimerine headed to her ship. The death of a Queen was occurring. There were things that needed to be taken care of on Alderaan.

@Hyëssen I'll tag @Cye Ilan so he's more likely to see this  Have fun!

I am curious to see how the stats thing goes. I really like die rolls for situations where you might succeed/fail, but when we did something similar to this with stats in GW2 a long time ago I didn't like it (people tried to play with the numbers too much and forgot the rp... more inclined to do stupid stuff for rolls 'because they could' ratherthan actually roleplaying). We also kept having to stop to look up people's stats, especially if they were new and didn't have a sheet yet.

Republic

Cimerine

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sounds of their thawing clothing echoed across the damaged hull as they walked further into the damaged ship, the torn hull giving way to smooth metal walls. The only sounds she could hear was their movement, the noise if armor plates and robes and their short exchanges of talk. The troopers lead, and she was the rear, though there was nothing to guard from behind them - only the snow.

Clunk. Whoosh.

Ahead something moved. Her left hand strayed towards her saber, her right facing forward in an ancient Jedi ready stance. They press forward, turning the corner to the right(?) and then... it became clear that during the crash the rakghoul sample had been released.

She cried out, a high-pitched involuntary noise, and stepped back from the group. Memories of what the Rakghouls did to her family came to her mind, an incessant need to run, run trying to control her feet. The troopers sprang into battle with no hesitation, and their movement shook her back to the damaged ship instead of the destroyed jungle landscape of Taris.

The Rakghouls ahead gibber and slather as they run, their claws tinging off the metal walls and floors. Mindless, insatiable, some fell to Kota's blaster fire but many more just press forward, laser wounds not deterring them from their prey. Raising her hand higher, she pulls out her lightsaber and lets her body fall into a natural battle stance. This is just practice. Don't be afraid, Cimerine. Focus and forget. There is no chaos, there is harmony.

Her blade ignites, a warm citrine glow illuminating the hallway and crossroad behind them brightly. With a deep breath, she made a simple movement with her hand as if she were flinging it forward. A blast of telekenetic energy flies through the group, but ignores them as it passes through, seeking the Rakghouls like a hurricane. The group feels a shiver as it passes through, and as it gets further and further from her hand it gains substance and appears as a glowing hollow ball of light, illuminating the hoard of Rakghouls ahead until it slams into them, throwing Rakghouls everywhere in the narrow hallway. They crash against the walls and against eachother, their shrieking stopped for a short moment.

Confused, the begin jabbering again, picking themselves up. The blast would give the others the time they needed to attack!

Cimerine smiled. She wasn't the helpless young girl she had been in the swamps of Taris. She was a padawan near the end of her trials... and she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

She brought her hand back and prepared another disturbance in the Force...

Republic

Cimerine

The young Padawan watched the couple shyly. They were by no means unusual, but their ability to show their weaker emotions so plainly was endearing, and refreshing. It was as if neither had a care in the world except for themselves and their old friend "Mak", and their adventures of yesteryear. They seemed to have little regard for the fact that they were on a strangers ship, floating thousands of miles away from the planet's surface.

She stayed quiet, listening, sneaking the occasional glance to the other Mirialan. He held a great fascination for her - she had seen very few others who sported the same green skin as her, much less any others with gray hair. All her masters had been human. All the Council was human. But he was a Jedi, and very likely a Master. She wanted to ask him where he came from - but knew now was not the time or place.

The other woman flowed away, and she watched her receeding figure while listening to the two troopers. The woman turned a corner, and she let her gaze rest again on the dark briefing room. Military talk and then - SNAP. She brought her head sideways to stare straight at where the woman had went. Something had changed. So suddenly. It was as if she had turned into a different person - with an entirely different set of connections to the world around her, some suddenly become stronger and more... visceral. Darker. Stronger. Her eyes went wide and suddenly there was a loud noise, and the ship began to move.

No, the ship began to fall. And for some reason, she knew, it was not the only thing falling.

There were times when the strength of a Jedi flowed through her, and her slight size mattered nothing. Now was not one of those times and as the ship jolted catching her in an already surprised state, she lurched forward. Her face jammed into one of the many bare tubings in the pre-conference room, and she threw her hands out to steady herself. She grabs the person nearest to her unthinkingly, blindly seeking the kind of comfort a wall can somehow not provide without.  I have to- she thought frantically, before grabbing the nearest arm beside her. It was the smuggler, and the contact helped her focus. I have to make sure we don't die when we crash.

"Stay still!" She shouts at him, bringing her other hand up in an esoteric gesture, as if she's both waving something invisible off and welcome something else forward. A thin cushion of bubble appears around every person in the room, to act as a cushion when they crashed, and hopefully prevent them from impaling themselves on the ceiling fans. The two troopers were on their own.

The ship fell. And crashed.

~~~

There will be no backup, no support, nothing.

The cold prompted her to open her eyes. She stood up, walking outside the wreckage to the others. The bubble had clearly not helped them much, and had dissipated by now. She brought her hand up to her cheek - she could feel the bruising and knew it would start turning purple soon.

Stepping off the ship, she saw the "puddle" ahead of her. Although only up to the large trooper's knees, it came well past hers. She took a deep breathe and waded through it, using her hands to propel her and keep her balance.

It was only as she walked up to the ship that the true nature of their missions really sunk in. Before, it was only to recover a medical items on a crashed ship. Now... there was a possibility the serum had been unleashed. She stopped, choking on a combination of the cold and that realization between the two ships, a small figure in the snow.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

She regained her composure and hurried to the others. The wind stung on her cheeks, but she ignored it, her skirt trailing in the snow. Her skirt, wet from the puddle, froze almost instantly, becoming a sheath of ice. She had however dressed in preparation for the mission, the strong winter-proof leggings beneath allowing her to move freely. They did not however keep out the intense cold of Hoth as well as she thought they would, and the thin dress-thermal on top did not help much either. She'd never felt this cold in her life. Nor this cold in my mind. If we were to encounter them... be strong, Cimerine, like your Master was in the face of sure danger. Go first, your shoulders a shield.

She reached them, exploring the carrier's entrance. The lights were still on, and so was Russ's comforting headlamp. Cimerine slipped past them and grabbed Russ's arm.

"Wait."

Small chunks of the hem of her skirt broke off, frozen and clanking against the ship's metallic floor.

"The ship was carrying the Rak plague. If it has crashed... we must assume the worst. If they bite or scratch you... they can bring you into their fold." She spoke seriously, solemnly. She was young but she was clearly not saying it for the sake of dramatics. "The troopers will be protected by their armor, as long as it is not punctured. Let them go first. If we are ambushed... that armor will buy us the time we need. The Rak are quick, and can give no warning when they attack."

She nods at him, stepping backwards, as if trying to lead him away from the front. She looks expectantly at Mak and Kota.

[[i am pretty sure Cimerine has not met anyone in proper character yet before. Please disregard my presence at events like the Penumbral ball.]]

They slowly filtered into the room, led by the uniformed woman.

Two Jedi, one a beautiful woman and the other a Miralukan like herself. Two heavily armoured troopers, one clearly Republic and the other she was not sure of. A Civilian, and in her mind she capitalized the C, the simple way he moved with a confident swagger assured her that he wouldn't be a burden to whatever task they were to be put to. And herself, a Padawan at the edge of her trials.

They looked at each other uneasily. It didn't seem that they knew one another, and she didn't recognize any of them. Concentrating, she could see thin lines of connection between them… but nothing strong, except between the Republic trooper and the female Jedi. He seemed over-protective of her, as if he could be a human shield. She didn't look like she needed the help, physically she may have been better armed than him between her weapons and her Force attunement.

The shuttle began to rumble quietly. The sound system announced "DEPARTURE TO HOTH" and the same words flicked on a small panel near the door. Hoth. She'd never been there. She'd heard it was cold. She'd heard there was ghosts in the Shipyard.

She quietly removed herself from the corner and walked to the group waiting outside the dark briefing room as the Republic Trooper introduced himself as Kota Terress. She bowed calmly to the group.

"Hello. My name is Cimerine Starshifter. I am a Padawan of the Jedi Order. My Master was Ben Coran."

She gave a small nod to the woman and the man who wore lightsabers at their hips.


"I have come to help, though I do not know the circumstances. I hope our guests-" there was a slight pause as she tried to decide if that was the right word for their hosts. Yes, with this many in the room so accustomed to battle, they would not have to worry too much about the shuttle owner's intentions. Even if they were mal… the small group would be able to handle it easily, whether it was poisoned gas or a battalion of attackers.

"I hope our guests will inform us soon. I would hope if any of you are aware of what may be on Hoth, you would inform the rest of us. It is not a planet I have ever set foot on before."

She nodded again, and took a small step back. She looked curiously at the civilian - of all those here he was the one that stuck out the most. She hoped he would state his reason for coming.

"You sure you're going to be ok in there? Hutt Space ain't the prettiest place for... well, anyone. Could be a trap."

The pilot flashed her a confident grin - she'd met him two years ago in a bar on Nar Shadaa, and had parted ways with him after an exploratory kiss and a discussion about what love was. She hadn't yet learned why the Jedi eschewed love... and even now she admitted to herself that she wasn't sure she could agree. Hadn't Revan loved? Hadn't Ben Coran loved? Hadn't Bastila loved? She let the thought wash down the river, to focus on the task at hand.

She smiled back at the pilot, her white teeth in contrast to her green skin. She hadn't needed to use her unique skills to find someone to bring her into the dangerous cartel-locked territory, just a simple holocall and she was on her way, with no complaints from her bar-established acquaintance. She stood up from the secondary pilot seat, and placed her hands together, closing her eyes. To the pilot, it seemed as if she was glowing... but only if he didn't focus on her. He crossed his eyes a bit and frowned, tugging at his gloves in discomfort.

She searched.

Emptiness. A vast emptiness around her, except for the bright glowing light of the man in the seat beside her. Pinpricks of light radiating from him to her, and him to... elsewhere. Searching, grasping, there. The station had a hum of life, a bright flower of light budding in the desert. She explored the flare, seeing the fire for the individuals it was made up of, their hundreds of connections to eachother. She switched to a more traditional Jedi skill, probing at the masses inside. From this far, she couldn't read much about them individually, but she could feel the tenseness of those on the ship, an incessent worry. A few held a calm confidence that they could succeed.. but even  underlying that there was fear. She breathed out slowly and opened her eyes.

"If it's a trap, it's not a very good one," she said to the pilot.

He sighed and pulled the ship into the small docking bay. "Well there's more of whoever else got called on the way, I've got two ships behind me just waiting for me to move. If you're going, you'd better go now." The ship docked into place with a thud and a rumble. "If you need a ride back, holo me and I'll come if I can."

She put her hand on his shoulder lightly, her delicate fingers giving him a quick squeeze. "Thank you. I do not think that will be necessary. I have a feeling there will be... new friends, waiting in there."

He punched the console and the ship rattled again, the simple metal ramp unfolding into the docking bay. "If you say so. I just hope Jedi can survive in space if they chuck you out."

She walked down the ramp and waved at him, amused at both him calling her a Jedi and the idea of floating through space without a suit. Would it be possible? Maybe... you would have to shield form the pressure, and the cold, and somehow create air to breathe...

She watched from behind the plexiglass barrier as the ship took off, and then looked around. The station was fairly barren - it was by no means a luxury hide out, with brass metal plating covering most of the walls and exposed pipes and massive collections of wires wrapping around the inner corners. Although she couldn't see them, she knew there were other people onboard.

Out of one of the many corridors a woman in a simple uniform walked up to her. Cimerine didn't recognize the small badge she wore on her breast pocket, but she hadn't expected to. "Come with me, please" the woman asked her, and the padawan followed her through the ship, past dozens of closed doors and dim flourescent lights. They stopped at a wider area, a funnel which led into a closed door surrounded by glass windows. Inside was an unlit briefing room, the holo tables dark and the terminals empty. When their footsteps stopped it was incredibly quiet, she couldn't even hear the hum of the station itself.

"The others will be here shortly." The woman gave her a small nod, and walked away, leaving her in the empty funnel room. Seeing nothing of interest, she backed unassumingly against the wall perpendicular to the opening, so those coming in would not immediately see her as the walked in. She placed one hand on the station's wall, and quietly tried to search with the Force to find out why she was here.

The absolute lack of sound reminded her of space. Cimerine closed her eyes.

She heard footsteps coming down the corridor.

"We have on file you work, or at some time have worked, for the Republic. We appreciate your service. A situation has arisen and we need your help. Regardless of your standing with our government your presence has been requested for a top secret briefing on an emerging conflict. Your current standing will in no way affect you at all whether you choose to help or not. This matter is extremely delicate and your discretion is necessary. Coordinates and times for the briefing are attached to this message. The Republic needs you. We all do."

The young Padawan sat cross-legged on the temple floor, the cool stone seeping even through her silken robes. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the message, breathing calmly and soaking in the sun as its rays fractured through the old window above, spotlighting her in the room with nothing else in it but her, the small holo receiver, and her thoughts.

Would the council approve? Would I approve? Would she approve? Would my Master approve? Would that woman who walked in darkness approve? My brother? My parents?

Her thoughts spiraled outwards and outwards, until nearly the entire world was encompassed in her "what ifs". It had been almost a year since Ben Corran had taken her under his wing - and months since he had returned to the dark depths of the Galaxy where no one but he knew what types of stars shined there. She was so near to ending her trials as a Padawan: although she was no prodigy, she had more than proved herself on and off the battlefield. Small but clever, and with a unique connection to the Force, she'd been on her share of "dangerous missions" the Jedi seemed to constantly be getting into.

She slowly flipped the holo receiver over in her hands. A Padawan was sworn to follow the instructions of their Master... but what happens when the Master has gone?

The Padawan stands up, leaving the receiver on the ground. She speaks to the walls,

"She chooses her own path."

The receiver's invitation accepted light blinks softy.

The smoke from Mak's grenade caused confusion in the already-surprised group of Imperial soldiers, sending many of their shots wide. It was clear that if any elite teams were on this ship, they'd been deployed elsewhere. A loud siren blared overhead, and the alarm light overhead mixed with the black smoke, as if it were the product of Sith Sorcery instead of man-made devices.

East didn't hesitate to curl around the bulkhead, strapping his short rifle against his arm and pulling out his two long hunting knives to follow Mak's close-quarters example. Before he did so though, he took advantage of the beautiful entrance that the Lieutenant had provided.

He clicked a small switch on his wrist into place.

His armour turned an inky grey.

Moving into the smoke, he was little more than a ghost. Although the armour would not provided him anywhere near the same invisibility as stealthing out would, it was an almost beautiful thing in the midle of a chaotic firefight. He nodded to the padawan, her lightsaber the only real source of light in the smoke.She returned to him a very focused grin, her eyes facing forward seeing what he could not, her hand outwards and ready to cast.

They went in, and the imperials fell quietly, one by one to his knives.

The smoke began to clear. Breathing hard, he saw Mak and the second padawan, and threw the body to the ground he had grabbed. A knife slipped quietly out of the back of his black armour and back into East's sheaths. It was strangely quiet, the corridor now empty of Imperial firepower. The only noise was the WOMP-WOMP of the emergency siren.

"Let's go."

The two troopers and two padawan went through the last stretch to their destination. They encountered little more than a few automated turrets which they dispatched with ease - what the Station could send this way they already had. Simple Aurebesh symbols graced the placard above the locked bulkhead in front of them, reading only "ENGINEERING". A flushed login terminal sat beside the door, messages scrolling across the screen reading "FULL ALERT LEVEL 56 RED" and "ALL ESSENTIAL FRAMES LOCKED. ACCESS CODES 56 B REQUIRED."

East didn't spend long waiting at the terminal as Mak took down the last of the turrets. Shooting a terminal always looked great in the holofilms - but in most modern ones, it would only lead to the door being permanently locked shut. He activated his comm and spoke, "Sergeant East and Lieutenant Mak at Engineering. Do we have access codes 56 B?" He made a motion to the Padawan to be ready by the terminal - she would be much more proficient at using it than he would be.

The two Padawans flared their lightsabers behind them as East was blissfully unaware of the dark presence that lurked in the ship. He was not his sister - she would have known exactly who was giving off the darkside signature, where he was, and who the last two people he had loved had been. No, he was definitely not his sister, but he could see just fine when a Jedi started in surprised. He knew there was something unexpected on this ship.

The Mirialan and Mac moved in a calm sync, the kind of forward dance that only those who have fought time and time again know. The Padawans follow behind them, expressions of grim determinations on their faces. In calm detachment as he shot down the Orbital station troops, he wondered what exactly their purpose was. From what he knew, Padawans were the lowest ranks of the Jedi, barely more than children at times.

As he and Mac made a smooth exit from the hangar, he threw one last grenade at the remaining portable turrets. The glow of the firefight shimmered against his faceshield, and he caught for a moment a glimpse of the Padawans behind him. They might be young, but they're no children. Both were using their 'saber skills to ward off stray blaster bolts, while performing minor Force tricks on the Imperial Troopers that made them clumsy or blind, all while keeping pace with the two young men.

It was time to get to engineering.

The other division peeled off, and he paid little mind to the Red Team Leader staying behind. "I’ll be in the shadows", he had said. East, of anyone, knew the kind of skill and self-confidence such a statement would require, and he respected Perja for it.

A final explosion behind them assured him that at least the lone Jedi would not have to deal with the portable turrets. From there, he eased his way behind Mac, shooting behind as the two Padwans made a shield of swinging lightsabers behind them.

East shouted over the noisy fight, his voice steady but loud. "Lieutenant! I don't know the way! Lead, I'll be your guard!"

It was true. He didn't know the way. A lifetime in deprivation of even the most basic of technologies left maps something outside of his natural grasp - but his ability to memorize the layout of an entire complex after running through it once was near perfect. In the jungle there are no markers. In the jungle, there are no maps.

He let the thud of Imperial troops behind them speak for itself after that.

East quickly moved to the side, grabbing onto what could only be referred to as one of the "oshes" studding the inner side of the hull, equipment sprinkled in between them. The Mirialan had no doubt that this was going to be a little more than just a "bumpy" ride, from what he had seen out of the large hangar force field. He answered the Lieutenant as he moved, wincing only slightly as something thudded against the hull. Secretly he was glad he couldn't see exactly what it was.

"You have any experience in ship-to-ship boarding or combat?"

"This is only the fourth time I've been up in space, sir." He said the words coolly, knowing that they alone would instantly paint him as a hindrance rather than an asset to the team. There was a quiet type of steel in his voice, though, something that said I've never done this before but I'm not afraid and I'm ready. He watched carefully through his clear faceshield as Mak went through his equipment, taking note of exactly what the Lieutenant was carrying. He gave a single, sure nod to the big man's last question, gave his rifle one last pat to assure himself it was locked into place, and awaited Perja's return.

This was going to be no different than making his way into the jungles of Taris. No different at all.

Slap.

East stashed one of the loose straps against his body, the armour molding to fit his thin form. Sure, it was a little looser than most's, but when it came down to things he was as tough as nails and could shoot a blaster rifle as good as anyone. His face was young - but his eyes were old.

Slap.

The second went on and he clipped his rifle to his back, calm even in the midst of the organized chaos going on around him. Of everyone on his team he would be the youngest and the newest, but he was chosen because of his cool head and his serious demeanour. He was of the youngest generation of Remnants, and he knew of some of the names he would be serving with. "Padawan" Perja. Jedi Knights Aloriana and Thraxen. He heard they were even getting a specialist and ell-tee Mak and another trooper in the boarding party. East wondered exactly what kind of specialist she was: after all, they were all specialists in their own way on this team. He quickly resisted the urge to run a nervous green hand through his black hair, thinking of those names that would go down in history as being Remnants: the best of the very best, now with his name about to be added. He didn't think about the fact that his name might also be added to a memorial somewhere on Coruscant if their team failed.

East walked at a quick, but sturdy pace towards the XS-Freighter, pulling on his helmet as he did so. His armour was a bright white with orange stripes - for now. One thing that distinguished him from the many others in armour around him was that he crossed the loaded hangar in complete silence, not even his seemingly-heavy boots making a sound. His armour was white - for now - and he gave a cold smile under his enclosed helmet, hoping he'd get the chance to use some of the skills he'd learned on Taris and the tech he'd picked up on Belsavis.

A Captain rushed them onto the ship, and from his demeanour East quickly guessed he would be labelled in the Republic Army as a "specialist" - but he wasn't one of the ones from Red. He glanced around as others boarded the ship with him, matching the faces with the names from the dossier. Aloriana. Thraxen. He gave a sharp nod to the two troopers as they boarded - the Sergeant would salute the LT when there was time, and the dossier had been suspiciously quiet about the other trooper's rank and background.

Boarding the ship he saw a man in some of the brightest clothing he had ever seen, and wasn't entirely sure what it was for. The face matched up though: Perja. He stepped out of the way, listening intently.

Shield station. Destroyer pair. Carrier. Troops. It was more than just a ship or two - it was the majority of an entire fleet. He took a quick look around. Their numbers were few... but he could tell from the looks on the faces gathered that they were ready.

“Mac you and your trooper friend here along with the two Padawan’s will head to main engineering.  I want you to overload the ships reactors.”

East nodded at him in acceptance of the task. He did offer a name, his name didn't matter at the time. Perja continued on giving out his orders, ending with the comm-line. East adjusted the settings attached to his bracers, hearing a slight echo of Perja's voice along the comm as he talked.

East walked immediately over to Mac, putting out an armoured hand to shake. "Sergeant East." The Mirialan's grip was small but firm, and he let go quickly.

The trooper waited patiently before giving up any help as a lost cause.

She surveyed the room carefully. Broken jagged mirrors lined two of the four walls now running vertically towards the sky. The ceiling-wall was strange domed, and she could see electric wires and piping jutting out from where the decorative paneling had cracked and split. She gave all three of them up as a lost cause and stared intently at the floor-wall. It was covered in a slightly grippy texture, but otherwise very smooth. All the various items that had been on it had fallen when the room had flipped, and she marveled at the fact that none had hit her. To make matters worse, a soft spatter of rain had started to fall through the hole in what was now the ceiling. She groaned and started to search for something she could use as an axe.

Finally finding a handful of oddly-shaped knives among the training equipment, she carefully avoided the wet debris and made her way to the final wall. In the comms she could hear scattered words, but now they were faint and she could barely make them out. Climbing onto a sideways cabinet and then cramming the knives into the wall, she started creating a ladder of hand/foot-holds towards the top.

She got about half-way before she noticed a shadow blocking the light and rain streaming through the gaping hole. Looking up, she saw something she'd hoped to never see again.

A rakghoul grinned down at her, its slobber slowly drizzling down to the floor. Suspended halfway between the safety of the roof and the stability of the floor, she panicked. Quickly she tried to make her way up the last couple metres, and nearly slipped to her death in her haste. The rakghoul slowly sniffed at the entrance, realizing there was no way for it to get to her without gravity pulling it down to the ground over two stories below. Although the rakghoul were quick and strong, they were not particularly dextrous climbers - they lacked proper hands. She found a small alcove that had once held a water refresher and crawled into it, giving her weary arms a rest and a chance for her mind to calm down.

Did we crash on Taris? The idea seemed unlikely - they hadn't been passing anywhere near it as far as she knew. They had stopped to pick up a transport shuttle, but she doubted it had had rakghouls on it. She'd heard they were all hurt and in medbay, but she hadn't had any contact with them. She wished now that she'd payed a little more attention to the idle gossip aboard the ship.

The rakghoul continued to watch her, a slack-jawed grin on its face. It was either very patient, or very stupid, and she could use both to her advantage. She wanted to pull out her gun but she knew that the noise of the shots would sound the alarm... it would be better to take it out quickly and quietly. Instead, she quickly flung her arm out in the direction of the hole and activated her harpoon.

Before the rakghoul could comprehend what was happening, she'd pulled herself to it and delivered one of the oddly-shaped knives to its throat.

Well am I glad the hole was too far to grapple to from the ground - I would've been a perfect little treat for this guy as soon as my head popped through.

Kicking the single corpse to make sure it was dead, she blinked at the world around her. She was extremely high off the ground, and could see almost every piece of the ship. Bodies were strewn everywhere, as if most of the safeties had never been activated.

She could see quite a few specks moving around down below that she knew were not human. What had happened to both the ship and the rescued transport shuttle. They were infected.

Keeping her eyes open, she slapped her comm a few times before pressing the button. She prayed to the rain that they could hear her up here and that she'd be able to hear their replies. "This is Scya. Who's alive and needs help? We got rakghouls galore out here, and I've gotta gun, a belt full of knives, a temper and immunity. Put me to use."

No force powers? check. No rakgouls? check. Nothing broken? HOLY SITHSPIT WITH A BANTHA ON TOP THAT HURTS.

Private Cypher Scydadoth sat amongst the wreckage, and pulled a splinter the size of a pair of medical scissors out of her arm. She had felt the ship's descent the moment it had started, and was lucky enough to be in the training room when it happened. By the time it crashed explosively to the ground, she'd pulled on the rest of her heavy armour, thrown (literally) her gun in the padded lockbox, and even had a few moments to remember some of her favourite expletives. They were cut short as everything in the room was thrown sideways, including the trooper.

Why does this kind of thing always happen when I ain't ready for it? Middle of a warzone, and I'm an unstoppable force of nature even though there's hundreds of Sith tryin' to kill me. Second I step off the battlefield I'm a magnet for trouble.

She hadn't even been a part of the explorational crew boarding the transport. The trooper had just been hitching a ride while her 'Clap got some much needed repairs, and the now-needless crew spaces were being converted into storage areas.

Looking around, she realized she was actually sitting on the exact same lockbox she'd stuffed her comparatively-fragile gun into. Pulling it out, she grinned at its perfectly unbent form. "You and me, we gotta find out if there's anyone else alive."

She had a feeling she'd been rather lucky when it came to the crash. The ship hadn't gone down softly, and she'd been in one the rooms closest to the ships protected core. The padded walls of the training room, her armoured helmet and more than one crash course in extreme falling had prevented her from receiving any serious injuries. The section of the ship she was in was now wedged sideways into the ground, and she looked down to notice she was standing on one of the walls. Luckily, it was an odd hour, and she was the only one who had been using the room. Above her she could see a patch of grey sky, the only exit high above her head. Turning on her radio she heard the scattered phrase "104.9 Alpha. - - - port side airlock ". She flicked her comm to the proper setting and chimed in. "This is Scya reportin' in from what used to be the training room. I ain't hurt but I'm going to need a hand gettin' out. Did I just hear Per-Ja? You're bad luck old man!"