Log:In the General's Secret Service

In the General's Secret Service

OOC Date: January 2, 2016
Location: Finalizer
Participants: General Hux, Duke

The summons intercepted and overrode the original orders to report to the CO of Delta Squad of Company Beta in the First Division. "DK-4077, report to General Hux in the captain's ready room on the bridge." Control's voice rarely betrays emotion, but surprise bleeds through her crisp tones. The way through to the bridge involves several check-ins and confirmations, but once designation is confirmed, the way is clear, despite a lack of officer code cylinders. A man in a slate gray uniform codes you in to the bridge and unlocks the ready room.

Within is a redhead who can't be much more than thirty years old, yet is in command of this entire vessel, sitting in a captain's chair with multiple terminals open before him.. "DK-4077," he says, without looking up. "Remove your helmet." Then he looks up, calculating blue eyes examining the face revealed.

Whether it's the march to his execution or a simple meeting with a higher-up, DK-4077 makes the same purposeful strides. The young soldier makes his way through the bridge and moves on his way to stand in front of the commander of the vessel.

"General," is snapped as he stands at attention, only breaking as he's commanded to remove his helmet. Beneath the sleek white piece of equipment is a stern-looking face that has seen its fair share of bruises and beatings but doesn't seem to have suffered for them. Holding the helmet beneath his arm, he simply stands; waiting to be instructed further by the General.

Hux's eyes half-close as he scans the other man's features clinically. "Your assigned specialty is Intelligence. Do you know why? What do you believe your superiors saw in you, to commend you to Intelligence?" He leans back for a moment, though his back remains ramrod straight, just tilted slightly back. "What do you see in yourself?"

Despite his undying commitmitment to the Order and almost jingoistic manner of conduct, 4077 knows the time and place for such behavior. This is not the time. Duke's tone soften and takes on a more sinister, thoughtful sound as he responds, "Because I can minupulate, General. I can use people and get what I want from them."

"A valuable skill. Your combat aptitude, judged across all your simulations, is 86%." Hux confirms his memory with a glance at the second terminal. "DK-4077, you will be serving the First Order in a different capacity than your fellows. When I require it, you will undertake special missions. Covert actions, interrogations, escorts. Some actions must remain deniable, and a single knife can sometimes achieve more than thousands of soldiers." Hux raises a ginger eyebrow. "So get used to being without your helmet and armor. But you will still be a part of Delta squad, when not on special assignment. You must become a master of the art of the quick-change," he says, lip curling up, "-in more ways than the physical."

"Understood, sir. Thank you, sir," DK-4077 responds, although there was a flicker of hesitation at the mention of being removed of his helmet and armor, it is gone now. "A hammer won't do when a scalpel is required," he muses, a hint of amusement curling at his lip.

"You do understand." It is Hux's turn to look amused, steepling his fingers and eyeing the stormtrooper with a hint of pride. He taps his screen, and a holo appears above the desk: an outline of a supplemental training regimen. Civilian Life, Infiltration, and Urban Survival are but a few of the titles that flicker past, each with an accompanying introductory video. Hux is scrolling through them too quickly to catch much, but he lets it come to rest back on Civilian Life. A generic man wanders through a city. "What may be most difficult is maintaining the appearance of an undisciplined life-" The man on the video buys food from a vendor's stall, sits on the edge of a monument, and eats. "-while retaining the mindset of a soldier of the First Order. Fortunately, you should have time to practice in the simulators before you need to be deployed."

"Never forget who you are: DK-4077, a soldier of the First Order, who fights to end galactic chaos. It's easy now, in your armor," Hux notes. "It will be more difficult in the field."

A pause. "Do you have any questions?" It doesn't sound like a dismissal.

"I will never forget who allowed me these opportunities, General," 4077 responds, pride in his voice. His blue eyes sparkle as he watches the holo, a confusion dancing behind them that they do not betray. At the General's question, he offers, "When will my training begin, General? And will an identity be crafted for me or will that duty fall to me?"

"It will begin as soon as you next enter the simulator," Hux says with a small smile. "You will have to balance your infantry training and special operations training. You have very little time this next month." The General doesn't seem put out at all by the assignment eating up his recruit's recreation. "You will craft an initial identity with the help of the Intelligence section. It will be your thin cover. Whenever you don't have another role, that's who you'll be."

DK-4077 doesn't seem to be bothered by it, either, as he simply nods in understanding, "I'm very much looking forward to it, sir." As Hux continues to describe his forthcoming responsibilities, the young solider can nearly be seen swelling with pride, to the point where a thin ghost of a smile cracks his lips and he says, "Thank you for this opportunity, General. Your confidence has not been misplaced."

"I trust you will prove yourself, DK-4077." General Hux raises his pointer finger. "Tell no one of your missions. You are on temporary detached duty with me. No more than that. In every other particular, you are to serve as one of Delta Squad's intelligence specialists."

"Put your helmet back on," the redhead says, watching the process.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," DK-4077 responds, raising his hands to slip the helmet back on over his head where it seals with a satisfying hiss. Having done that, the soldiers returns to standing at attention, "Anything further, General?"

"No. Dismissed." Hux's cold stare follows DK-4077 all the way out of the room. Only when the door hisses shut behind him does he return his attention to his terminals and datapad, fingers flicking rapidly across the inputs, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.