Log:First Order: Distress Call Part 1

Distress Call Part 1

OOC Date: January 23, 2019
Location: Lancer Frigage Phi-5 - Sullust Sector
Participants: First Order: Hadrix Rol as GM; Artemis, Evie Leven, Arvis Locke, Drath

A distress call, issued from frigate - Phi-5, in the Sullust sector, a medical alert following a report of smuggled cargo being retrieved after the craft being pursued jettisoned it. On patrols, the Vanguard were closest - his ire drawn for such a clumsy handling of materials, the Supreme Leader ordered the craft investigated, the situation taken under control, and the commander of the craft apprehended for summary courtmartial and likely execution. Upon arrival to the ship's coordinates there was no initial response to hails and the ship was listing to port, a thrust nozzle firing. The Vanguard have been outfitted with atmospheric collars for the stormtroopers, and full rebreathers with eye covers and everything. Two shuttles have been dispatched as well, one set to connect to the aft-docking port near engineering with escort troopers (and Hadrix) while the other to goes directly to the frigate docking bay, to investigate at the source - as well as deliver medical inspection and bring Naval staff to the bridge to delegate, or assume command as neccessary.

Seated in the shuttle, rifle buttressed against the ground and held aloft between her knees, Artemis stares at the hollow eyes of her helmet cradled in her hands. She is met with nothing but the empty, ashen sheen of its darkened visor and the muted reflection of her own visage peering back at her. No revelation to be found. She draws in a deep breath. It's a greedy thing that hisses from her nose when she finally allows it to escape. Then she dons her helmet and drifts in to anonymity behind its glazed surface as she rises to her full height. Her weapon, a rifle intended for closer quarters is readied and held across her chest. "Sir," Artemis directs her voice towards Arvis given that he has the highest rank amongst those present, "On your orders."

Drath is seated in the shuttle, near the exit ramp. It's expected for the Stormtroopers to soak up bullets if whatever is on the other side of the ramp is hostile, after all! He's had his helmet on the most if not all of the trip, his rifle stood up against the side of the shuttle next to him. As soon as it sets down, he's standing up, hefting his rifle up into a ready but not quite aiming stance as he turns and gazes at the ramp of the shuttle to await its opening sequence. Glancing down, he checks the safety is off on his weapon, and that he's reloaded, before turning that helmeted gaze back up and awaiting what's to come.

Saanvi is wearing vinyl booties over her boots and ridiculous looking rubberized cover over her armor, helm on but also under a clear rubberized cover "This time we will require a cntainment area to avoid contaminating our own vehicles and limit contact with unexposed personel. Do we know what was being transported or the nature of the hazard?"

While Evie would generally prefer to be /at/ the controls of any given ship, the Kuati girl takes her duties as Squadron Leader seriously. Which means in this particular case, the closest she gets to her hands on the control stick is supervising the /actual/ pilot of the shuttle. "Remember, Kilo -- don't come in too fast on your docking manuver. The ship can probably handle it, but you'll scratch the exterior. Friendly fire scars are /not/ pretty." she tells the man, before making her way back into the cabin. She's decked out in standard Vanguard Stormtrooper armor, and appears to be all set to join the ground crew for this one. Well. As much as any operation on another ship could be called a 'ground' mission, anyways. That said, her attention's going directly towards Arvis, in hopes she hasn't missed the group's marching orders yet.

The shuttle touches down and the drop-plank hits the deck with a raucous clang, the glow of particle shields seperating the crew from whatever is in the hold shimmering a dull cerulean glitter. From the command deck Arvis' voice emits over the craft comms "Per the Supreme Leader, investigate - determine the situation and, uh, and keep me abrest of the, ah, situation. I will be on deck when I deem it, ah, neccessary." The floor of the hold is clear, with the exception of a dozen crates ranging in height from one and a half to two meters in height. All are open, and appear packed with straw that is all over the floor around them. Several bodies of First Order deck crew lay near the crates as well.

Artemis holds on to a rung for balance as the shuttle settles in with the satisfying cachunk of docking clamps followed by the ramp making contact with the freighter's deck. In the absence of any real instruction, she takes command - not by virtue of rank but by volition alone. "We're never given the full story, Medic," Artemis intones flatly, her voice gutteral and clipped over the comms. "Weapons hot. Drath's on point. Fan out and let's make sure it's safe for medical to do its thing." Without waiting for protest, Artemis levels her rifle and strides in to Drall's wake, encouraging him to headdown the ramp if he hasn't already started. With her rifle stock firmly in the crook of her shoulder levelled at the horizon line, her finger hovers over the trigger.

As soon as the ramp of the shuttle begins to open, Drath raises his rifle, not necessarily to aim, but just to keep it in a ready position. <<Roger that.>> he confirms over his helmet comms, the Stormtrooper tentatively taking steps down the ramp to gaze out into the hangar the group finds themselves in. His rifle is raised, head scanning the hangar as he takes slow steps out into it, then turns to aim at the bodies around the hangar. <<Multiple bodies identified. /Something/ happened.>> he reports, even as he leads the others out of the shuttle.

Saanvi looks around "None of you are prepped for exposure." She reaches down and grabs the handle of a steel chest with wheels with Haz Mat Station decals on it. She straitens then and has her free hand on hr blaster.

Evie's more than willing to fall into a secondary role behind Artemis -- she may technically be the next in command with Arvis... uh... occupied with things, but she recognizes that her strengths lie in the void with blaster attached to ship rather than blaster shot /on/ a ship. <<Orders confirmed.>> she replies, removing her blaster from it's holster and taking a two-handed grip as she marches forward and at an angle, eyes scanning around. Trying to prepare herself for everything and anything. Saanvi's comment, however? Gets a brief look from a helmeted head. <<...right. We'll be extra careful, then.>> she adds, loosing one hand to tap her helmet. A subtle reminder of the injury worsened the last time out.

<<Do make sure that you, uh, take a blood sample from one of the fallen. For posterity,>> Arvis comms to the team. A chromium hand taps a button on the control panel of the shuttle, causing the holo display to flip between different views of the mission at-hand (read: the soldiers' helmet-mounted cameras)

Not one to get his hands dirty when it can be avoided, Arvis leans back in his seat, propping his head up on a hand. <<Oh. And if, uh...if any one of you gets contaminated; it's like best that we put them down there and then. I'm not too keen on...uh...getting infected myself.>>

It is completely silent in the cargo bay, other than the idling humm of the shuttle engines repulsor lifts, ready to flare a quick take-off if needed. A small light pulses on the main forward hatchway, indicating the locking mechanism is jammed open.

Artemis flanks Drath as she would any other trooper: slightly askew to keep her sightlines clear while still ensuring that her squadmate is adequately covered as if she were an automated turret tethered to his steps. Both men's comments are ignored, responded to with only a gentle sigh and an exagerated blink that is lost behind the cover of her visor. Quickening her pace, she taps Drath's shoulder and points with two fingers towards one of the corpses. It's seemingly unique in that the individual's eyes are still half open, marred by a crispy substance of origin unknown to her. <<Keep your hands to yourselves. Let Medical do its job.>> Artemis reminds the team as she presses forward to the body she indicated. <<Potentially chemical or biological weapons in the crates.>>

Drath had been a bit preoccupied with the entire area, and as such glances over to where Artemis points with a slight bob of his helmet in that direction. Turning, he stalks that ways, leading the others across the hangar to the abnormal corpse, where he steps around to the other side of it and scans towards the jammed open door while the Medical folks do their examination. <<Agreed.>> he responds to Artemis' suggestion of letting Medical handle it, perhaps a little /too/ eagerly after heaving Locke's last set of orders. <<We'll cover you.>> he notes, as he moves his helmet slightly towards Saanvi.

From afar, Artemis (AR-1015) will keep half an eye on the door.

Saanvi moves forward and moves to investigate the crates and their contents, identifying each label on the crate and then checking the contents of the crate in a methodical manner. She shines a light rather than shoving her hand in and looking. A booted foot shifts the straw when needed.

<<Commander Oakfell will love to hear about the faith you place in her medical staff, Commander Locke.>> Evie quips back, letting medical, indeed, do her thing and making her way towards one of the control panels nearby. <<I'll see if I can get the computers to give me a little insight on this one.>> she adds, using her free hand to tap a few buttons on the panel... ...but what she gets isn't very informative at all. Not to their current mission, anyways. Well. Except... <<Looks like the officers on this ship spent a bit too much time enjoying their... ahem... 'free time'.>>

<> Arvis muses into his handheld comlink. <<And Commander Oakfell just loves to hear from me in general. Maybe she'll be on board for a complete wipe of our military and the installation of clone soldiers. I hear they're, uh, easier to maintain,>> the older man muses from his chair, watching as the interior lighting bounces off of his hand.

It's a lot of straw, like, a lot. An uncomfortable amount of straw it seems. There is a muffled series of... private sounds coming from the panel Evie is working at, quickly silenced by her - at least hopefully. While Drath's attempts to take a blood sample are less than... successful. Silence continues to reign, unless people stop using their comms.

Slow, steady, patient. The hiss of Artemis' rebreather is the chronometer to which seconds are measured slipping away as the trooper waits for those with less combatatively oriented skillsets do their jobs. Then instinctually, her ears twitch. The feline-like gesture zeros her attention in to the forward hall beyond the stuck open latch. <<Potential contact.>> Artemis alerts the rest of the party, immediately falling back to find whatever cover is available to give her a half decent arc on the opening. <<Dee-Ell, focus forward. Eee-Vee, keep an eye on medical. Make sure she's nice and cozy while she keeps doing what she's doing.>> Settling in, Artemis adopts a crouched position with one knee perched to provide a point against which to balance her rifle. With a flick, her weapon comes to life and throbs with a crimson glow: plasma eager to find itself directed with lethal intent.

Drath at least /tries/ to take a blood sample, balancing his rifle as he removes a small flask from a compartment at the back of his belt, only to drop the damn thing on the floor. "Kriff." he mutters softly into his helmet, kneeling down for a moment so he can pick the thing back up. Hopefully Saanvi has gotten the sample by then. <<Holo-porn?>> he asks in response to Evie's statement, a clear tone of amusement to his voice as he stands back up fully and slips that vial back into his belt. Upon hearing Artemis however, it's like a switch flips, as the man takes a few long strides forward to take whatever cover is nearby. Crouching, he rests one armored knee on the durasteel floor, and raises his blaster rifle towards the jammed open door of the hangar bay. His safety was already off, however his weapon is held levely as he awaits any potential conflict coming from around the opening. <<Dee-Ell, in position.>> he chirps over the comms. Perhaps it's best that it's so silent, it's a bit harder to hear them in here.

Saanvi seems to find nothing in the straw <<Looks as if the contents were taken.>> She moves then to draw blood, collecting blood samples and then a quick visual inspection <<Crusted lesions around the eyes, mucus membranes, and drainage from ears suggests severe respiratory distress consistent with a pathogen rather than chemical agents. Any exposed survivors will need to be quarantined.>>

<<Roger that.>> comes Evie's response. One finger moving to tap the 'mute' button on the panel -- yes, she's letting the thing play, just silently for the moment -- before she shuffles her way towards Saanvi, positioning herself between the medic and any oncoming danger. She's not afraid to play human shield when it's a needed role... but this shield shoots back, too. <<Eee-Vee, in position.>>

<<Noted. Carry on,>> is Arvis's response to Saanvi's comm. The Kuat-native sits up a little straighter in his chair and crosses one long leg over the other. His dark eyes fix on the screen.

Artemis's warning is enough time to keep the investigation team from being caught unawares when the hatchway is pulled open, grinding slightly as it switches to 'manual'. A oddly fingered, a pair of yellow scaled hands appearing, and then a reptillian face appears. Just over two meters talls, red eyes glaring into the hold. The sight of the Order landing shuttle, and the troopers behind cover catch it off guard, and rattling hissing growl escaping its mouth as the alien goes for a chunky octogonal device at its hip. Dropping into a shooters posture the alien points the device at those closest to the hatch, that being Evie and Saanvi, the other hand scrambling for a commlink on its' belt.

Identification is a critical part of the job. The idea that Vanguard troopers, or troopers in general shoot first and ask questions later a remnant of Resistance propoganda that is not helped by the fact that force is often selected as the path of least resistance between that and hard won diplomacy. Her matte-blue eyes devour details within the frame of a heartbeat: scales, comm, unknown weapon, a species well known for its employment as mercenaries. Its fate is sealed. <<Weapons free.>> Artemis calls as she takes the first shot. A sharp intake of breath. Diaphragm tightened. Weapon sighted. A rhythmic squeeze of the trigger like the thousands of others she's taken in the training rooms of First Order installations. The shot is near flawless as it rages out of her weapon's muzzle with a phoenix's fury, careening towards the arm reaching for the comm. Crunchy, acrid flesh is left behind like so much fried gizka in a Tatooine diner. <<Huh. Cease fire.>> Artemis muses over the comms. <<DeeEll, forward. Let's see if we can get something useful out of it.>>

Looking down at where it's other arm was, the Trandoshan blinks, blinks again, and pole-axes over, eyes wide, mouth open hissing hystericially as it hits the deck, legs kicking ineffectually

Drath flips the mode toggle on his Sonn-Blas F-11D Blaster Rifle - 12290, switching it to Stun mode.

Drath holds his weapon steady as that Trandoshan comes around the corner, only to have Artemis' blaster bolt zoom across the reflective surface of his helmet to remove the Merc's hand slash arm as it reaches for its comm. Keeping his eyes trained forward, he waits for a split second to ensure there weren't any others coming behind it. <<Roger.>> he responds, pushing to his feet and keeping his weapon trained on the injured creature as he rapidly closes the space between him and it. Swiping his right hand upwards, he swaps the weapon into stun mode, approaching and keeping it aimed down at it as he circles to the side and speaks through the outer speakers of his helmet. "Freeze!" he declares, the modulated almost robotic voice escaping him as he keeps his finger on the trigger. "Stop that thrashing or we'll open fire."

Saanvi quickly moves to secure several samples from each of the corpses and gets a few swabs of the crusty lesions and swabs of the mucus from each corpse as well. She leaves the others to the dull bsuiness of murder and mayhem while she gets all the glory of identifying bodily secretions.

<<I get the feeling it isn't alone... but it's nice of them to give us a present like this one.>> Evie adds, before a smile touches her lips under the helmet. The smile of terrible, terrible ideas yet to come. Then, she's moving to try and seize the commlink from the wounded Trandoshan's belt. <<I'll keep ears on their comms, see if I can at least get a number for you,>> Since she doesn't /understand/ Dosh. <<...and I've got a little surprise planned for if we /do/ run into more of them.>> A glance back to the panel she activated earlier. Oh, those poor, poor Trandoshans.

"Eat... Puudue..." the Dosh snarls, eyes squeezing shut as it fights to go still, hissing and mewling pathetically as it points its stump arm up into the air. The chunky little octogon on the deck a half meter away, and Evie has the commlink, which is now blinking to indicating that someone is trying to call. In the hall behind, more bodies can be seen on the floor, though some of these have blaster wounds in them.

From afar, Evie Leven (11) will wait for confirmed contact. XD Long distance to Evie Leven: Hadrix laughs "Wanted to make sure in case you had to motor"

<<Medic.>> Artemis intones as she rises to her feet and lowers the muzzle of her weapon towards the floor. <<Make sure he's inside. We may need something to settle his nerves if we're going to get anything vaguely useful out of him after encouraging him to answer that call.>> She bridges the gap between herself and the Trandoshan at an efficient pace. Even so, it affords her the opportunity to examine the different set pieces available: comm, Trandoshan, weapon, porn. The weapon requires further scrutiny to figure out what's going on. Her own weapon is shouldered as she reaches down to carefully take the pistol-gripped cannister in to her hands mindful of any obvious triggering mechanism. <<Command, can we get some intel one what I'm holding.>> Artemis requests as she holds the weapon in her hands directly in front of the visor. Like a gameshow model, she turns it slowly on her fingertips, providing as good a view as she can manage without being behind the monitor herself.>>

After a brief glance into the hallway he'd found himself partially in, Drath reaches down and shoves his armored fingers into the joint between the Doshes shoulder and the armor he wears, gripping the material tightly as he drags the newly crippled Merc back out of the hall and into the hangar. Just in case. <<Bodies in the hallway, looks like a firefight occurred.>> he chirps over the comms. Once he's in, he'll stand back up and bring his rifle back to bear, toggling the kill switch on the side as he steps forward towards the door and sinks back down to one knee. Raising the rifle to point down the hallway, he keeps an eye out while the others with more training than himself within the hangar analyze the situation.

Saanvi seats all the samples into foam compartments designed for this purpose and snaps the steel case shut and then stows it in her pack. She moves towards the Trandoshan at a trot and kneels to get a good grip in which to haul him inside before rummaging in her bag for a sedative that might be effective on a Trandoshan. Finding nothing she ahhs and instead finds the pain management kit and riffles through that for a solution. <<I am unfamiliar with Trandoshans but I doubt barbiturates will work. Am I to administer it or wait? What should I do with this Comm?>>

<<One moment,>> Arvis responds, turning in his chair to face a different console. A string of commands are clicked in. But old-man style. One button at a time with a single finger.

Smacking his lips, Arvis leans in to read the display. <<It's Corporate Sector. Apparently, it's a dispenser. Probably used in...setting the pathogen loose. Do be a dear and bring it along with you.>>

The dosh writhes and hisses, eyes squeezing shut as it hisses and looks between its various captors. It says nothing for the time being though, content to take deep breaths and sink into shock. The comm continues to blink, blinkity blink. There is a sound down the hallway, of a turbolift hatchway opening. Drath doesn't see the hatch opening, but the sound of it is enough to get him to look in the correct direction to see that noone has exited yet, but its' open.

Artemis scrutinizes the weapon herself as it turns in her grasp. Lingering ideas flit through her mind like phantasms pulling memories from experience gained through academic means and exposure over her military career. Unfortunately, just like the spirits of the dead around her, nothing concrete manages to coalesce. Here's Arvis to the rescue. <<Copy, Command.>> Artemis acknowledges and stops holding the weapon aloft on its flesh and bone pedestal. Instead, she marches over to the Trandoshan and extends the cannister to Saanvi for safe-keeping. <<Hold on to this for me.>> She's not inclined to get in to a firefight with this nonsense in a pocket. On to business as she motions to get the comm from Evie. Artemis flanks the Trandoshan's shock-addled form and presses the muzzle of her rifle somewhere in the alien's crotch area before reaching down to backhand the lizard-being with the full brunt of the gauntleted hand. "I do not know much about Trandoshan biology either but we all seem to be built in much the same way," Artemis suggests coolly through her vocoder. "I need you to answer that call before you take a nap and answer it nicely." The trooper twists her rifle, wordlessly communicating her intent.

There's two directions to a hallway, after all, and as such Drath may not have been facing the correct direction at any given moment! But he hears movement behind him, and so he turns his rifle to bear in the direction of the opening turbolift. He watches in silence, his breath held, until he finally exhales oh so slowly and speaks over his comms. <<Turbolift on the right just opened. No visual contact just yet.>> he virtually whispers, his breathing steady and his voice low to ensure none of it is heard outside of that plastoid enclosure he calls a helmet.

Saanvi starts with stabilizing the subject, staunching blood and adding half the dose she'd prepared to keep him from flatlining between the effects of the meds and the bloodloss. She states "Answer it and I can make you more comfortable, yeah?" She is at present too preoccupied trying to keep the trandoshan alert enough to answer the call while plying him with drugs to make him more amenable to the task.

The dosh, groggy at first and then suddenly more alert, nods at Artemis as he looks to the comm, reaching out with his remaining arm for the comm, snarling and hissing as he answers the call. It's polite sounding horrific monster lizard alien hisses and grabbles, cut in with "I don't care if you were taking a hubagja shavit! You're supposed to go check out engineering!" issuing from the handset more trandoshan sounds. The hatchway Drath watch remains open, and a humanoid figure in a combat helmet drifts partly in view, a blaster held loosely, his body language suddenly emphasizing boredom over alertness. The dosh looks back to the troopers as he hisses and snarls again, before the handset emits; "Just go check on it, their not answering their comms."

Artemis glances up when Drath makes the presence of another interloper known. The timetable continues to get more harried but at least this one is being cooperative. She rewards the compliant Trandoshan with a releasing of his reproductive organs from the angry end of her rifle, stepping over the fallen alien to shore up Drath's six after snatching away the comm. <<EnnVii, knock out the alien and secure it for transport. If you can't, just shoot him.>> Artemis states flatly. <<DeeEll and I will need your support.>> With that, she readies her weapon once more and falls in to the other side of the portal between the dock and hallway. <<Hard and fast>> Artemis instructs Drath, nodding curtly in his direction. The helmet hides her dilated pupils and even breaths.

Thankfully, Drath is left handed, and as such this position favors him. On top of that, he's hidden himself, and the merc approaching doesn't seem to have noticed him just yet. Exactly as he'd planned! <<Roger.>> he confirms, standing from his voer and taking aim as he sends a blaster bolt down the hallway towards the Dirty Human! (TM) Unfortunately, the sight of a Stormtrooper causes the man to duck back around the corner in a surprised and effective display of reflexes, as the blaster bolt goes sailing by and slams into the turbolift at the end of the hall.

Saanvi takes the com from the Trandoshan, unintimidatd by the snarls but a bit misty-eyed over th Trando-stank. As she promised the rest of the dose is administered and she does a quick job of staunching the bloodflow and stablizing him. This done gloves are peeled off and replaced and she pushes herself to her feet with a toss of a shoulder to resling her backpack.

Letting Drath lead, Artemis takes the low road as he favors the high and falls in to a prone position. Legs spread for balance against the impending recoil from her weapon, the barrel of her rifle is pointed askew the frame of the portal in to the hallway in a textbook firing position. She squeezes the trigger. Hot gas discharges through the ventilation perforating the side of her weapon's barrel as Artemis seeks the same target as her squadmate. Another bolt shrieks with short-lived indignation as it tears through the air and strikes metal conduit behind her intended target. In a ridiculous twist of fate, the plasma fragments and ricochets back at a queer angle, striking the scummy looking human in the rump. Artemis can't help but allow her lips to curl at the edges in a wry smile.

The trandoshan submits for being put under, not in any way able to fight back. He's alive, and the shock, and meds, have him not realizing that life is not going to get much better once he is in custody. "Yeah! I know I almost got shot!" a human voice calls out, there is a rumble, and then Artemis's shot rings out, and then the man calls out "BEEN SHOT!" there is a laugh, like an animal sound, "GET THEM YOU OAF!" The human leans around the hatchway door, opening fire on Drath as a huge walking carpet lumbers out, a wookiee of all things. Big, hairy, and stanky as pulls the trigger on its crossbow.

The human's blaster bolt tears into Drath's thigh, filling the hallway with the smell of burning flesh and plastoid, and causing the man to hiss into his helmet in pain as he drops to one knee in the hallway. He nearly stumbles completely, if not for bracing himself on the wall on his way down. Despite all this, he keeps his weapon trained, and returns fire on the human with a cry of anger, hitting the man in the chest and sending him back in a heap as he calls out into his helmet comms. <<Medic!>>

Saanvi was just heading in the general direction of the commotion. Where there is action there is need for her to ply her trade! At the call she picks up the pace. Long legs lope with her medic's bag in one hand and blaster in the other as she makes way for her patient!

Artemis' reflexes kick in as the bowcaster is levelled at her person. Adrenal glands fire, muscle coils, and with a memory of its own the trooper's booted foot propels her out of view in a trundling half roll that ends with a sweep of her leg. She shimmies in to the side of the door's frame breathing hard with the burst of exertion. A glance is spared for Drath and his injury but she does not voice anything even remotely resembling concern. Artemis tilts her weapon as she whirls back out of cover. A couple shots left: the pack's vertical slits glow crimson or betray their discharged state in dull grey. She continues to embody the hunt with efficacious accuracy, clipping the Wookie in one of his fur-laden arms.

With a wild wailing yowl, the wookiee sees its' companion flop back like a sack of chadra tuber-balls. Arms and legs akimbo as his last breath rattles out. Infuriated in true wookiee fashion the monstrous alien turns and attempts to fire, only to have its arm caught on fire and flesh vaporized in a crater along the bicep. Howling, the creature charges, right arm flopping, left arm balling into a massive fist aimed for Artemis's face - to potentially catastrophic effect!

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Drath whirls his rifle around as the wookie charges down the hallway. Unfortunately for him, this rapid movement exacerbates his wound, and his stumbles a bit as he causes his shot to go wide and slam into the durasteel plating of the wall of the hallway. Slumping over against the wall, he at least keeps his blaster up as he prepares to fire again while simultaneously making his wound readily available for the approaching medic. Though, and he cringes at the hit the wookie delivers, AR may need a medic about as much as he does at this point.

Saanvi holsters her weapon and quickly does an assessment, out come the clamps and then the sterile bacta foam to seal up the wound to stauch the bleeding before doing a scan to check for internal injuries or bleeding, "Any trouble breathing, Trooper?" she asks of Drath.

The Wookiee's fist collides in to Artemis' plate armored helmet like a cast iron pan, scrambling her brain as if it were a carton of eggs against the plastoid inner shell. Then she learns how to fly. Gravity, it seems, is not the master in a large, furry humanoid's domain. Screeching to a halt, the female trooper's clutch on her weapon still intact, she raises it haphazardly with one arm and pulls the trigger. The recoil's aggressive, flinging the weapon out of her hand, but the Wookiee fares far worse. A shot to the gut rips through fur and makes its entrails an amalgam of pinkish-hued goo. <<I'm going to be sick.>> Artemis complains over the comms before she haphazardly rolls and just barely manages to lift her helmet to wretch on the floor.