SWSE: Sons of the Empire: Prologue

[Sarone]

The thud of boots hitting the ground. The hiss of hydrolics and the thud of the gate being lowered. Outside, darkness reigns except for the stars and moon above. As one, the various humanoids, roughly forty in total, stand up and exit the hover transport, slowly making their way down the aisle towards the exit.

Stepping onto the packed ground, the sight of a various Imperial personel and Stormtroopers stand at various distances, some with blaster rifles at a low ready, others with holstered blaster pistols, but all eyeing the various beings, measuring and weighing them.

Once the last humanoid is off the vehicle, it slowly moves out of the way. One of the Imperial Army Personel starts directing the group into formation of four ranks, each rank having ten humanoids. Guiding them before a raised dais, the uniformed soldier directs them to face the beings on it.

"Recruits, welcome to Camp Purgatory," a hard edged human says as he eyes each of the recruits, his hands on the rail before him, thlight from one of the overhead lights catching his captain's rank. "By now, some of you are reconsidering your choices, especially the ones that brought you Moff Brikton's offer. I assure you, here you have a fighting chance, unless you enjoy being someone's cell mate. I assure you, you won't be disappointed."

Hands behind his back, the human straightens up and turns to another human male, dressed in a gray Imperial Moff uniform, and offers him a salute. "Sir, recruits have been assembled," the Captain says as he takes a step back when the Moff returns the salute.

Stepping forward, the Moff looks at each, his trimmed mustache framing his mouth, though the trio of claw marks and the patch of his left eye indicate he isn't some Core bred politician. "Recruits, ladies and gentlemen," he says in clipped tones, "though Imperial justice would see some of you imprisoned, enslaved, or executed, this program is to provide those with a will to succeed a chance to serve the Empire. Not as a warning to others or as slave fodder, but in a more meaningful experience. I offer you this chance, this last chance, to fight for the Empire, to stop the anarchy caused by those who would gladly see others fall and die for their own benefit. But you will need to train for it, to embrace it when it comes to."

Taking a step back, the captain immediately salutes when the Moff raises his hand. "Captain, you have thier files. Get these beings in shape and trained starting tomorrow." Turning, the Moff goes off the dais, where four troopers, two trandoshans in various garb, and a protocol droid meet up and head out with towards a raised building.

"Recruits, tomorrow we start orientation and issuing of gear. Tonight, get some rest, if you can." Looking over at a group of Imperials standing nearby, the captain nods at them and leaves.

As one, the four Imperials descend upon the recruits, scowls on their face as they head up to each line.

*****

In the rear rank, Corran Highwater, Arrol Gent, Vo Dusk, Dyn Rymal, Derrek San, and Anton Carzek stand in the middle, with a large darkskinned humanoid and a weequay to their right and a human and a nikto stand to their left.

At the head of the rank, an Imperial marched over to them. "This rank, with me. Move it, scum," the man yells, looking up at the darkskinned alien.

Staring, the alien smiles, revealing a row of fangs as his eyes turned red as he speaks, his voice coming out deep and dark, as though from the bowels of the ground. "I only join to escape an execution, little man. Why should I fear you?"

Staring up, the man smirks a little. "Pup, I do not fear you. You will obey me or I'll make you obey me, got it."

Smiling, the alien starts to laugh, only to have it cut short...

(OOC: I need a perception test from everyone)

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Anton Perception (1d20+6)[19]

(SITREP: The PC are in between a dashade and a weequay (the dashade is the one standing up to the instructor) to the right and another human and a nikto ot the left. The Imperial Instructor is in front addressing the group and the Dashade)

[MintyNinja]

Dyn keeps his mouth shut through the entirety of the scene. He looked close enough to human for it to not stand out too much, but any semblance of siding with the Dashade would end badly for him. He simply watched as everything unfolded.

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Perception is an 18

[Batpope Scott]

Corran shakes his head at the alien's ignorance and thinks rather insulting things about this being's intelligence. There are worse fates then death, Di'kut

[Thundercracker]

Vo Dusk

The dark-skinned human kept his mouth shut. He knew there was a time to resist, and a time to simply play along, and this was definitely the latter. The punishment for the dashade should be interesting. Informative, if nothing else.

[HopeHubris]

Huh, I thought the Dashade were extinct, though, if he keeps acting like that, I get the feeling they will be soon, Arrol muses to himself, trying to keep himself from smirking

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Royal Blue is completely different to Blue

[Sarone]

Beat DC 15:

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When the Dashade took his eyes off the Instructor, the Instructor punches the alien in the gut, kick him in the shin, jabbed him in the throat, slaps the sides of the aliens head and brings his knee into the alien's face.

Beat DC 25

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Clearly an expert, if not seasoned hand to hand fighter. The Instructor jabs the alien in the diaphragm, causing the alien to lurch forward. The kick to the shin is at the knee, causing the alien's leg to give out and bring the dashade lower.

The kick to throat causes an instinctual grab to the airway due to a compression of it, while the slaps to to the ears causes immediate disorientation. Using the leverage, the Instructor drives his knee up into the dashade's face, causing blood to spew freely. A human would have been killed in the last maneuver, though the Dashade clearly is still alive though disoriented.

Happening quicker than teh rest could see, the dashade is lying on the ground, unconscious but alive, blood freeling going down his face as the Instructor stands over him. Looking up, the Instructor eyes each of the recruits. "Any one else wants to give me trouble," the Instructor states to no one in particular, before turning over to a group off to the side. "MEDIC!"

Quickly, a pair of medics come over with a medic droid, putting the alien on it's stretcher and doping the alien up. Meanwhile. the recruits are marched to a prefabricated hutt, large enough twelve humandoids to live in side with a small locker at each side. Towards the back is a shower bay and two latrines.

"Listen up," the Instructor says as he motions for a pale, white haired human to comeover, having the recruit take various packages, each with a name on it. "My name is Instructor Parsdem, I am your squad's instructor for the forseeable future. As you can tell, I am not one to be trifled with. I don't give damn if you think you can outshoot, outrun, or outwrestle me. I will fight back."

Letting his words sink in, Instructor Parsdem let's the recruit pass out the packages, containing a stetchable jumpsuit top and bottom, boots, running footwear, hygiene products, towel, a small prepackaged meal of what looks like some kind of meat byproduct in red sauce. "Those who are non human," Instructor Parsdem says as he eyes the bald pale humanoid, the recruit who passed out the packages, the nikto and weequay, "and need special product or dietary concerns should let me know over the next few days. Until then, shut up, listen well, and maybe you won't suffer what happens to your Dashade friend. Lights out in twenty minutes, you have to be up in six hours. You will have an hour to get ready in the jumpsuits and running shoes, then we'll start with orientation."

Turning, Instructor Parsdem heads out the door, letting it slide shut. Quickly, the weequay, nikto, and human all head to one set of bunks. A quickly glance indicates some kind of marking on the side of their necks and faces.

(OOC: Knowledge: Galactic Lore (can be made untrained) rolls requested.)

Opening it up, the pale, white haired recruit looks at the others. "Well, that was interesting," he says as he looks at the others. "My name is Anton. What are yours?"

[MintyNinja]

"Rymal. Dyn Rymal," the Umbaran responds to the one that spoke. He opens his package and sits on one of the bunks. Between bites of the meat-like substance he tries to remember where that insignia looked so familiar from.

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Galactic Lore: (1d20+2)[3]

[Batpope Scott]

Anton, huh? My name's Corran. I guess we're all gonna be in the rough together.

Corran smiles as he drops himself onto one of the bunks lackadaisically and puts his hands behind his head.

[HopeHubris]

"Is this even food?" Arrol sighs, poking at the 'meal' before introducing himself, "Arrol Gent, smuggler ordinaire"

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Galactic Lore: (1d20+13)[17]

[Thundercracker]

Vo Dusk

What a troupe of characters...

"Vo Dusk," the bald, dark-haired man said, "I didn't do it."

[Batpope Scott]

Corran sits up and crosses his legs as he eyes Vo curiously. Didn't uh... do what now?

[Thundercracker]

Vo Dusk

"Whatever it was they said I did to get landed here, of course," Vo replied.

[HopeHubris]

"Yes, because there was a delightful orientation ceremony where everyone was introduced, they had cookies, it was nice." Arrol mocks, "Did they say you were a murderer? You look like a murderer"

[Batpope Scott]

Heh. O' course, vod. I'm sure we're all innocent and the empire is trumping up docking violations. Corran grins and shakes his head before grabbing some food.

[MintyNinja]

"We have less than twenty before lights out," Dyn chimes in. "Don't matter who didn't do what to get here, we're all here now." He finishes the cheap meal and puts away the rest of his new belongings. "You guys think we'll actually need an hour to get dressed in the morning?"

[Thundercracker]

Vo Dusk

"I'm just figuring that's what they said about you Gent, that you're a smuggler extraordinaire," Vo Dusk replied.

"And no, I told you, I didn't do it," he said again, this time with a smirk.

[Batpope Scott]

An hour to get dressed? Nah, don't buy it. It's probably rootin' weeds to see who's willing to actually take that much time to get out in the action.

Corran stops for a mouthful of food.

Likely rooting for another reason to grind us into the dirt.

[HopeHubris]

"I was planning on getting some extra sleep, but now that you mention it..." Arrol says, finally deigning to try a bite of the 'food', but no more

[Batpope Scott]

"Yeah, that's why I'm going to make sure I'm rested before we wake up tomorrow. That instructor is going to have too many reasons to mess with us as it is."

Corran packs his new belongings away and finishes his meal before laying down and attempting to get comfortable.

I wonder what nasty business I'm going to deal with here...

[MintyNinja]

"In that case, I'm also turning in for the night," Dyn says as he lies down and closes his eyes. Six hours. It will have to be enough. Tomorrow: Orientation. Maybe I can snag a Datapad and... no. It wouldn't end well if I get caught.

[HopeHubris]

Throwing away his barely touched meal, Arrol settle in to sleep as well
"Winkee mikiyuna" Arrol says in his best imitation of a Hutt

[Sarone]

(OOC @ Batpope Scott and Hope Hubris)

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The tattoos on the various human, nikto, and weequay are gang tats identifying that they are with one of the supporter gangs of Black Sun, though from different systems and sectors. Which ones will require more research and such.

"Can't blame you there. I'm accused of supplying weapons to the Rebellion, though I made sure my paperwork was in order as well as the other guy," Anton says as he grabs a bunk above Dyn. "Not my problem that he had other side business. And not my problem the customer went and gotten himself killed before they could interrogate him."

Staring up at the ceiling, Anton sighs. "Those were nice rifles, though. Generation 3 Clone Trooper Rifles with upgraded barrels for Felucia that were made just before the War ended."

After a few minutes, the light went out, plunging the room in darkness except for the light outside.

*****

"I SWEAR TO THE EMPEROR HIMSELF YOU ARE THE LAZIEST BUNCH OF RECRUITS! GET UP NOW AND GET YOUR SHOWERS. MOVE IT! MOVE IT NOW!"

Coming like a lightning bolt, the Instructor yells breach the door before his first foot step. The various recruits start getting out of the bunks, rushing to take a shower.

OOC:

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Perception tests, please.

[MintyNinja]

Rested but still tired, Dyn hops out of his bunk on shaky feet. He says nothing as he makes his way to the showers.

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Perception: (1d20+8)[13]

[Batpope Scott]

Corran smiles, weary as he is, as he hustles into place.

Good to know some things never change.

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Perception check (1d20+5)[22]

[Thundercracker]

Vo Dusk

What a pain, I was having a really good dream too. It's better than Kessel, its better than Kessel...

Vo Dusk wearily stumbled from bed in the general direction of the showers.

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perception: (1d20+7)[21]

[Sarone]

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Anton Perception (1d20+6)[23]

@ BatPope, Thunder, Hope

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Risking a glance outside, you notice that it is still early, though you can also hear the other instructors yelling at the other recruits. Rough estimate indicates about 5 and half hours of sleep.

"What are you smiling at, Smiley," asks the Instructor when he notices Corran's smile. "Get moving before I give you something to frown about."

Perhaps due to the weariness of the other recruits or something else, the en managed to get showered, shaved, and dressed in forty minutes, with the Instructor chewing out any one not moving quickly enough. As each recruit heads outside, they see the Dashade standing there, his face bandaged up a bit more.

Once outside, the Instructor takes the recruits to a large prefab building, the smell of recent construction hitting the recruits. A few troopers stand outside, eyeing each recruit, while a small quartermaster clerk gives each recruit a print out.

A quick glance indicates it is a list of equipment; uniforms, writing utensils, datapads, and additonal equipment.

"What kind of equipment we'll be getting," Anton whispers to Corran.

"Bookworm, the kind of equipment you get is the equipment the Empire gives you." The Instructor marches by, taking the squad over to the various quartermasters, starting with various rucks and then haing the recruits fill thir pack up. Once each recruit had their equipment, the Instructor marches them out to another prefab building.

Like the previous building, fresh welds and new construction pervaded the air, but unlike the previous building this had multiple diases with sensors on them. Once inside, the Instructor had the recruits strip down to undergarments, letting the techs guide the recruits to the diases. Standing on each, the sensors built into the dias measured the recruits, before giving the series of numbers and letters to a tech who proceeded to get a set of armor for the recruits.

"Recruits, pay attention," the Instructor says, standing off to the side in a set of armor. From the looks of it, it a modified, weiged version of padded armor. This armor weighs as much as stormtrooper armor, giving you a chance to get a feel for this armor as well as what you can and can not do with it. Be mindful, though, this armor is property of the Empire and that you will treat it with respect. Am I clear?"

[MintyNinja]

"Clear as crystal, sir," Dyn says tonelessly from his position. He was still reviewing the list of equipment in his mind and all the possible uses of that datapad. Armor didn't appeal to him all that much, far to bulky for someone so thin as himself.

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OOC: So do we have a list of equipment or are you going to wait till we're armed before then? Also, "writing utensils" opens a tricky door. I don't know if you've noticed, but the Star Wars Universe has absolutely no paper in it. So these writing utensils would have to be like pre-made markings to plant on walls or something.

[Batpope Scott]

Corran keeps a smirk after being given a new nickname for the morning and chirps his Yes, sir. before getting a new hustle.



Corran looks over the "armor" with a look of disapproval. Thinking to himself, That's not going to stop a rock, much less a blaster. Not sure what I'm expecting of training gear though.

When the instructor asks if he's understood Corran knows that it'd be best to respond. Yes, Sir.

[Thundercracker]

Vo Dusk

Wonderful...

"yes sir," he said. He wasn't exactly sure what he was saying yes to, it was still too early.

Hope they don't send us on some suicide mission...

[HopeHubris]

"Yes sir" Arrol says as he thinks to himself, Keepuna, this karking armour is awkward