Log:In the Army Now
In the Army Now
OOC Date: January 10, 2016
Location: Resistance Base, D'Qar
Participants: Sesti Gath, Gaarurra, Atlan E'ron, Oriana, Ambrosia Greystorm
Conference Room - Resistance Base, D'Qar This room is setup in a School Room style. One enters at the back of the room to find eight rows of tables that have chairs pushed under them. An aisle leads up the center of the tables to the front of the conference room where a podium rests. Behind the podium is a dark holo-graphic board where images relating to the topic at hand are displayed. The room has windows along the wall opposite to the side of the room's door. The windows show out onto the grassy plains of the military base's grounds, occasionally military personnel walk past on the path that is just outside.
Moving to the front of the room, Amber stops 2 inches short of plowing into the podium. She deactivates the datapad and tosses it unceremoniously over her shoulder onto said podium before leaning an elbow back on the corner. Her eyes watch the door. Waiting.
As the Major had walked past her and summoned her along Oriana had said her farewell to Gerratt and turned tail and came in. Her steps are light and fluid, that background of grace and poise always with her. Upon entering there is a salute and a curt not to Ambrosia. "Major." Moving to sit she brings one leg over the other and rests a hand on her knee, the one holding the pen. It taps against her knee idly. "You look well healed up, Major, glad to hear it." She passes the woman a smile.
With her hulking shadow of a fuzzball at her shoulder, Sesti enters and finds two seats along the back so that Gaarurra won't be blocking anyone's view. She shows a little pallor in the pale brown skin between the dark tattoo lines. Her hand raises to form the zabrak salute of respect to a superior officer, and then she sits, waiting quietly.
Atlan E'ron makes his way into the briefing room and heading towards the seats to sit down as the Major gets ready to start the debriefing. His ears twitch a bit as he hears some of the others arriving and whatnot but he tries to keep his focus on the old human female in front of the podium.
"Daggers." Ambrosia returns the eye contact and verbal greeting with a single nod on acknowledgement. There's little in her posture that bears resemblance to the dirty, whisky-guzzling salt who haunted the streets of Nar Shaddaa not so long ago. Her jacket's fairly well pressed, boots polished to a shine, and mane neat and tidy. "Consider yourselves blooded now, as a unit. The General and I had a moment to talk things over, discuss the results of our first mission together and it falls upon my shoulder to say on her behalf that..." taking breath or two, she lets the /tiniest/ hint of pleasure thaw the expression on her face. "We did well. Praise-worthy, in fact, so consider this your pat on the back from the woman who's led our people from the beginning."
Gaarurra has recovered from the sniper shot to his arm luckily though he looks about he others here that make up Dagger Squad it’s an odd thing to find himself here but feeling like your making a difference and sticking with those you trust is important. Pete sits beside him for the moment while he listens looking to Sesti and back to Ambrosia. "Thank you ma'am." he comments the droid translating his words perhaps more for the others comfort than hers this time.
Having no idea what to expect that pen taps against her knee faster and faster. As the others entered she would love over her shoulder, pass them each a smile with a bit of a salute in greeting and then look forward again, big brown eyes fixing on the Major as she speaks. Leaning back a bit more into the chair her chin lifts, waiting for the brunt of it until.. well, it's praise and that grin cracks all the wider. She follows suit with what the Wookiee says. "Yes, thank you Major. Glad we made people proud."
Atlan E'ron nods a bit as he listens to the debrief, "Thank you ma'am." He stays seated and listens for now though he's waiting for the other shoe to drop because there's always another shoe.
Sesti sits straight in her chair at attention, listening but not betraying any nerves as Amber speaks. A little ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth when they are congratulated, and she gives a nod of acknowledgement of their congratulations. She lets the otehrs do the talking, though, and remains silent.
"Don't thank me yet," warns the Major softly, brows raising to let a wordless question linger about for deciphering. Clearing her throat, she walks around the podium and reactivates her datapad to browse a few things before continuing. "As you've surely gleaned from my message, I've been assigned the role of your mentor, leader, and am ultimately responsible for all that may happen to you from this point on, during your service to the Resistance." There's that shoe. Drop, drop. "This does not make me your mother, fortunately. Like your mother, I will be hovering in one form or another over each and every one of your. Even if it's just in here," she taps at her left temple. "But that 'hovering' does not come with such mothering boons as hugs and coddles. Copy?"
Having not had a mother for some time, well, Oriana accepts that with a nod, use to the feeling. She would continue to tap the pen against her knee, tilts her head a bit. "Copy." Says the woman with understanding.
The talk pep and warning get through indeed "Crystal copy ma'am." Gaarurra says he will nod to Oriana as he spots her a tug at his lips though he's back soon to paying attention to the task at hand learning more about this resistance and how he will actively take part.
At the mention of not thanking her, yet, Sesti's lips curve almost into a smirk, as if she might have been expecting something of that nature. She folds her hands together on her lap, and gives another nod. "Copy," she replies firmly.
Atlan E'ron nods a bit, "Copy that ma'am." A pause, "So what's the next step?"
Ambrosia eyes Sesti knowingly. "Good." A terse nod. "This new relationship between you and I also dictates I will be overseeing your training. Sometimes from afar through other specialists, sometimes directly. I believe we'll get to know each other quite well, by the time we embark on our next assignment. I will also be assisting with the basic training of new Army recruits outside our little team. Given that there is a blend of backgrounds, skills, and experiences in this room, I'll be meeting with you individually to discuss your origins, your personal goals," she makes a bit of a face on that note, "and your reasons for pledging alliance to the Resistance. If I like what I hear, if what I hear is genuine, I'll be so kind as to tell you mine, in turn. Apart from this heart-to-heart, I will be sending you - as a unit - for assessment. This will test your adeptness with ranged weapons, melee, and hand-to-hand combat, as well as any specialized skills listed in your...file." Squinting at her screen, she holds it at a distance, nods, and then waves the pad about for emphasis. Guess there's a file on there.
It all makes sense, Oriana finds herself giving another nod, understanding full well what she is talking about. As the pen taps on her knee she'd lean forward slightly and narrow her eyes some looking at the datapad she has in hand, seeing whose it is.
Atlan E'ron hrms a bit, "So when's this testing going to start?" His ear twists towards Oriana and the tapping of her pen, "Nervous much?" He asks looking over at the young boom boom human woman.
Sesti frowns a little at the mention of the discussion to come, but she remains still, her eyes shifting slightly to follow the others reactions, and then back to the Major at the front of the room when Atlan asks his question.
Gaarurra listens to the talk about a test and conversations "Of course, hopefully we will meet standards." He looks over to Sesti and than Oriana each and back. The Wookiee doesn’t have much to ponder in these meetings but he does wonder of course.
"This week," Ambrosia answers Atlan, drumming some gnawed fingernails against her hip. A brief smile gets tossed to the Wookiee. "I'm sure you'll all do fine. For now, I'm dismissing this team with a bit of homework. A little reading material that I'm transferring now," more squinting and pad tapping, "to your data pads. Basic information, covering names, synopsis of battles, and a general timeline of the history leading up to the need for this new rebellion - the Resistance. There're some people who'll undoubtedly come up in conversation now and again, legends of old, that you ought to be familiar with. If you already are, great! Read it again. I want you to enter into this line of work with a true appreciation for the sacrifices made and the reasons they were made. Its best you understand on as deep a level as you can, who -what- it is that you are fighting for. Who and what you will likely one day die for. Don't let my longevity fool you. Most of my old team keeled over long before the ripe 'old' age of 56. At the very least, you can expect..."
She keys a few commands into the pad and the large holo screen behind her comes to life. It's her - as viewed through the outer shell of clothed skin. Surgical-grade plastisteel patchworks her skull, sternum, there's artificial joints - left knee, right shoulder - artificial left index finger, and a complete cochlear implant on both sides. Her jaw is speckled with tiny bolts, anchoring some dental 'upgrades' beneath grafted gums. For the keener, anatomically-adept eye, there's also a kidney missing (nano filter in its place) and bowel may be a bit rearranged. "...this to happen." She smiles, looking over her shoulder at the display. It's a trip down thirty years of memory lane. "Now. Anyone having second thoughts?"
Tilting back a bit in her chair Oriana turns her head to look at Atlan and knits her brows together. What's he talking about? Looking down to her knee slowly it's then that she realizes that she had indeed been tapping her pen against it this entire time. Clicking her tongue a bit she gives those around her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, force of habit didn't realize I was doing it. And no, not nervous." With a sudden crooked smile she says this to the cat and looks forward again the pen no longer tapped against her knee she pushes it into her hand with a few taps of her thumb on the cap so the idle habit doesn't continue.
Regarding the Major again as the speech goes on she'd sit there quietly, then look to the screen. Yeah it makes her heart stop of a second, the harsh realities of their job, but there is purpose in it. Saying nothing it's only the slight lift of her chin that says she isn't going anywhere any time soon.
Critical purple eyes go to the holo, with professional detachment, Sesti gives a little shake to her head. "I would have used the series four aech gee twenty-two eye for the shoulder," she murmurs in aside to Gaarurra. "And that knee is still looking pretty darn good, if I do say so myself."
Atlan E'ron shakes his head as he looks over the holo, "No questions ma'am."
Gaarurra side looks to Sesti a bit of a look passing between them though the Major gets his focus "No second thoughts as of yet. I will protect my friends, and those I am able to." He seems to stand firm on his belief here at least not that he doesn't fear that future but it’s the now he'll worry about
"In that case - this meeting's over. I'd like to reiterate that General Organa - and myself - were impressed by your performances in field. It isn't easy functioning as 'one' when your team is composed of new faces, but we pulled it off. Over the course of this week, I hope to get to know each of you a bit better, and know you'll familiarize among yourselves plenty both in training and sampling the goods that rec lounge has to offer. Just don't sample too much. You'll be given plenty to ache about without suffering a hangover." Major Greystorm kills the holo feed and tucks her data pad back into her jacket. "Dismissed."
With the meeting over Oriana would put her hands on the arms of the chair and push to stand. One arm lifts to give a salute. 'Thank you, Major." The woman would say with a curt nod and small smile, and then proceed to leave.
Atlan E'ron stands and makes his way out of the conference room now that the briefing's finished.
Sesti rises with the others, and after another Zabrak salute, she turns to Gaarurra, waiting for him to make room for her to move out. "Well, then. Not too bad, right?" she says to the Wookiee.
