rpgramen
First Post
Cruising along wistfully through the star-filled blackness of space where the brief fighter confrontation had taken place, Khyber carefully keeps his E-Wing along the Assault Shuttle's port-side, engines humming in typical, unspecial fashion -- a sign of good maintanence.
When orders came down the pipe to board the unmoving Imperial cruiser, Khyber was caught a bit off-guard by his sudden inclusion of the team. Not that he minded too terribly much, mind you, but rather that the nigh middle-aged Kiffar would have preferred to know ahead of time. Udo would just have to make do without his blaster rifle; besides, being the little fish in the big pond full of bigger, more prominant fish sporting stripes, bars, and stars, you simply don't ask questions.
As the troop-laiden shuttle makes its way into the interior of the prior Imperial threat, Khyber performs another pass around the enemy ship before following suit, docking alongside the shuttle just as the Republic Marines disembarked. It was nostalgic, really. While not too terribly experienced with the act of boarding orbiting cannonades, Udo nevertheless was familiar with the shuttles, unpleasant memories of cramped confinements and the constant racket of stowed weaponry and chit-chat amongst the troops; but this was neither here nor there.
Unusually empty might be putting the sight of the hangar bay lightly, but nevertheless, it was uncharacteristically quiet for any ship its size. Droids galore, however, seemed to be the only entities milling about. The last time Khyber had seen so many droids in one sitting was that time back at the Lucky Star Casino, back during his mercenary days, but that's a story for another day.
Popping the hatch to the E-Wing and hopping down to ground level, the brutish Ensign garbed in the facially obfuscating flight suit peered about, making a second observation of the droid managerie before drawing his ever-trusty DE-10 from its holster.
"Huh. I was kind of expecting the boys in white, or at least a Case Yellow." Ensign Udo says with a grain of sarcasm, his voice slightly warped by the helmet over his face. Turning to the R7-Model Astromech idling in the E-Wing's slothold, Khyber barks out to the mechanical bucket of bolts, "Keep the engine hot just in case we need to burn sky till' we see lines, Arseven. I smell trouble."
After the other two Jedi escortees dock their ships, Khyber plods along to form up with the Force-Sensitives. Awkward introductions were never his forte', and despite the fact he'd seen the bunch aboard the Taelros on more than one occassion, it did little to quench that turbulent tossing embedded in his gut.
"Hey." greets the Kiffar bluntly after the pilots abandon their respective fighters, careful not to address the Jedi formally or by rank. Nothing says "big fat target" like an officer, thus one of the first things the Republic Military teaches its trainees. Not like the lightsabers lazily dangling by their sides werea clear giveaway or anything, after all. "I'm Udo. Orders are that I'm your... attache'." Udo states cynically through his pilot's helmet, the prospect of serving under Jedi seeming incredibly frivolous.
[sblock=Equipment Loadout]
When orders came down the pipe to board the unmoving Imperial cruiser, Khyber was caught a bit off-guard by his sudden inclusion of the team. Not that he minded too terribly much, mind you, but rather that the nigh middle-aged Kiffar would have preferred to know ahead of time. Udo would just have to make do without his blaster rifle; besides, being the little fish in the big pond full of bigger, more prominant fish sporting stripes, bars, and stars, you simply don't ask questions.
As the troop-laiden shuttle makes its way into the interior of the prior Imperial threat, Khyber performs another pass around the enemy ship before following suit, docking alongside the shuttle just as the Republic Marines disembarked. It was nostalgic, really. While not too terribly experienced with the act of boarding orbiting cannonades, Udo nevertheless was familiar with the shuttles, unpleasant memories of cramped confinements and the constant racket of stowed weaponry and chit-chat amongst the troops; but this was neither here nor there.
Unusually empty might be putting the sight of the hangar bay lightly, but nevertheless, it was uncharacteristically quiet for any ship its size. Droids galore, however, seemed to be the only entities milling about. The last time Khyber had seen so many droids in one sitting was that time back at the Lucky Star Casino, back during his mercenary days, but that's a story for another day.
Popping the hatch to the E-Wing and hopping down to ground level, the brutish Ensign garbed in the facially obfuscating flight suit peered about, making a second observation of the droid managerie before drawing his ever-trusty DE-10 from its holster.
"Huh. I was kind of expecting the boys in white, or at least a Case Yellow." Ensign Udo says with a grain of sarcasm, his voice slightly warped by the helmet over his face. Turning to the R7-Model Astromech idling in the E-Wing's slothold, Khyber barks out to the mechanical bucket of bolts, "Keep the engine hot just in case we need to burn sky till' we see lines, Arseven. I smell trouble."
After the other two Jedi escortees dock their ships, Khyber plods along to form up with the Force-Sensitives. Awkward introductions were never his forte', and despite the fact he'd seen the bunch aboard the Taelros on more than one occassion, it did little to quench that turbulent tossing embedded in his gut.
"Hey." greets the Kiffar bluntly after the pilots abandon their respective fighters, careful not to address the Jedi formally or by rank. Nothing says "big fat target" like an officer, thus one of the first things the Republic Military teaches its trainees. Not like the lightsabers lazily dangling by their sides werea clear giveaway or anything, after all. "I'm Udo. Orders are that I'm your... attache'." Udo states cynically through his pilot's helmet, the prospect of serving under Jedi seeming incredibly frivolous.
[sblock=Equipment Loadout]
- Padded Flight Suit
- Combat Gloves
- Blaster Pistol (w/ 100 Shots from Power Pack)
- Utility Belt
- Medpac
- 15sq. Liquid Cable Dispenser w/ Grappling Hook
- Aquata Breather
- Glowrod
- Hip Holster
- Short-Range Comlink
- Three-Days of Rations
- Toolkit
- Spare Power Pack
- Spare Energy Cell
- Audio Recorder w/ Headphones
- Credit Chip
- Utility Belt[/sblock]
