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Name: Stader Volger
Age: 36
Archetype: Soldier/Operative
Gender: Male
Appearance: A man of pale complexion and a short buzz cut favored by those who spend their days in vacuum suits. He stands an unremarkable 6 foot even with a lean frame that favors that of a swimmers build. His only distinctive features is the Imperial Army regulation mustache that offset his Arctic blue eyes. A careful eye however would notice the faint scar and slightly different coloring that signified his left arm is a replacement; regrown.
Occupation: Commander of the 89th Lancer Support Company (Callsign Onyx-9)
Affiliations: The 89th LSC currently falls under the Field Operations and Support Command of the Imperial Intelligence Bureau.


Skills and Abilities:
Snake Eater: A scalpel to the Lancer’s hammer; Volger and the troopers of Onyx-9 are experts of asymmetric warfare. Their job is to help the path of the Lancer’s be made easier whether that be the sudden disappearance of anti armor teams, powered defenses or even an unsecured hatch. Volger’s job is to gain the advantage for his side however the cost.

Every Clime: Every Lancer Support Company is competent in the same missions and qualifications. But certain subsections specialize more towards niches. The troopers of Onyx-9 are trained more towards orbital and near orbital assault. Zero gee seizures of stations and ships being their more prominent feature.


Faults and Limitations:

Red Tape: The world of Imperial Intelligence is a nonsensical over bloated mass of departments and acronyms from this unaccustomed. To those accustomed, it is a mass of checks, balances and overlapping responsibilities that leave several departments stymied at best and ineffective at worst. Volger is no exception. With his boundaries and limitations changing on the whims of whatever jurisdiction his command will have fallen under at the time.

Been There, Done That: Volger’s attitude of the empire has decayed with each drop and mission. While still professionally and publicly the upstanding IIB commander; he is personally a cynical professional who has resorted to grouping encounters into generalizations.

Biography:

Originally from a deep water mining colony on Europa; Volger saw the life awaiting him. Exploring dark underwater caves from mineral deposits; fighting hostile sea life, high pressure and cheap equipment for a shot at the next day to repeat the cycle. It was in this environment that he lost an elder brother and two younger sisters before he signed up with the Imperial Army in a bid to escape what he thought was a death sentence.

Instead he had signed up for a different kind of sentence. The Imperium had suffered an outbreak of rebellion in the Zeta Dorado system. So the mighty hammer of the Imperium assembled; ships, Lancers, tanks and legions of troopers. Amongst that assembly was Private Stader Volger. Initially a rifleman; Volger was part of the first wave of planetary shuttles a staggering six times. An unheard of feat especially given that campaign’s higher then usual casualty rate.

It was on his sixth landing of the campaign, assaulting a mining complex turned command bunker in a moon, that he distinguished himself. His unit overrun and their stragglers being picked off; Volger had triggered the rebels own scuttling charges. Taking out the majority of the rebel high command on the planet. Volger, pinned by rocks, was reported to have cut off his own pinned arm cauterized the stump with a burning hot piece of rebar and clawed his way out of a ventilation shaft with his remaining limb.

Here he caught the attention of Imperial Intelligence, and while recovering and getting his replacement limb readied, was recruited into their ranks. Months of testing and assessments found him suitable for the Lancer Support Companies. Upon his full recovery he began touring with the 722nd Lancer Support Company (Cobalt-18). An amphibious specialized unit; Volger found himself once again in the dark underwater caves of Europa. Supporting the local Lancers; the Vanguards of the Imperial Tide. Two years on Europa ended with the Vanguard liquidated as an entity; its leader executed for treason.

Volger was transferred as XO to the 41st LSC (Indigo-2). Specializing in hazardous materials; he would spend three years helping the Void Ship Unrepentant and its compliment of Imperial sponsored Lancers track down and destroy a terrorist group planning a chemical weapons attack. Success there brought glory and rewards for all involved.

With Volger’s award being his own Lancer Support Company. The 89th, a space assault unit, was in need of a commander as it was slated for attachment to the Imperial Prince’s void ship. Necessary; since the void ship’s last attachment had been transferred due to a sudden urgency for their jungle warfare skills. Volger is looking forward to his first full time command; but is hesitant given the situation.

Nothing is ever straightforward in the Empire. Even less so when the royal family is involved.
Name: Stader Volger
Age: 36
Archetype: Soldier/Operative
Gender: Male
Appearance: A man of pale complexion and a short buzz cut favored by those who spend their days in vacuum suits. He stands an unremarkable 6 foot even with a lean frame that favors that of a swimmers build. His only distinctive features is the Imperial Army regulation mustache that offset his Arctic blue eyes. A careful eye however would notice the faint scar and slightly different coloring that signified his leg arm is a replacement; regrown
Occupation: Commander of the 89th Lancer Support Company (Callsign Onyx-9)
Affiliations: The 89th LSC currently falls under the Field Operations and Support Command of the Imperial Intelligence Bureau.


Skills and Abilities:
Snake Eater: A scalpel to the Lancer’s hammer; Volger and the troopers of Onyx-9 are experts of assume trick warfare. Their job to help the path of the Lancer’s be made easier whether that be the sudden disappearance of anti armor teams, powered defenses or even an unsecured hatch. Volger’s job is to gain the advantage for his side however the cost.

Every Clime: Every Lancer Support Company is competent in the same missions and qualifications. But certain subsections specialize more towards niches. The troopers of Onyx-9 are trained more towards orbital and near orbital assault. Zero gee seizures of stations and ships being their more prominent feature.


Faults and Limitations:

Red Tape: The world of Imperial Intelligence is a nonsensical over bloated mass of departments and acronyms from this unaccustomed. To those accustomed, it is a mass of checks, balances and overlapping responsibilities that leave several departments stymied at best and ineffective at worst. Volger is no exception. With his boundaries and limitations changing on the whims of whatever jurisdiction his command will have fallen under at the time.

Been There, Done That: Volger’s attitude of the empire has decayed with each drop and mission. While still professionally and publicly the upstanding IIB commander; he is personally a cynical professional who has resorted to grouping encounters into generalizations.

Biography:

Originally from a deep water mining colony on Europa; Volger saw the life awaiting him. Exploring dark underwater caves from mineral deposits; fighting hostile sea life, high pressure and cheap equipment for a shot at the next day to repeat the cycle. It was in this environment that he lost an elder brother and two younger sisters before he signed up with the Imperial Army in a bid to escape what he thought was a death sentence.

Instead he had signed up for a different kind of sentence. The Imperium had suffered an outbreak of rebellion in the Zeta Dorado system. So the mighty hammer of the Imperium assembled; ships, Lancers, tanks and legions of troopers. Amongst that assembly was Private Stader Volger. Initially a rifleman; Volger was part of the first wave of planetary shuttles a staggering six times. An unheard of feat especially given that campaign’s higher then usual casualty rate.

It was on his sixth landing of the campaign; assaulting a mining complex turned command bunker in a moon; that he distinguished himself. His unit overrun and their stragglers being picked off; Volger had triggered the rebels own scuttling charges. Taking out the majority of the rebel high command on the planet. Volger, pinned by rocks, was reported to have cut off his own pinned arm cauterized the stump with a burning hot piece of rebar and clawed his way out of a ventilation shaft with his remaining limb.

Here he caught the attention of Imperial Intelligence, and while recovering and getting his replacement limb readied, was recruited into their ranks. Months of testing and assessments found him suitable for the Lancer Support Companies. Upon his full recovery he began touring with the 722nd Lancer Support Company (Cobalt-18). An amphibious specialized unit; Volger found himself once again in dark underwater caves of Europa. Supporting the local Lancers; the Vanguards of the Imperial Tide. Two years on Europa ended with the Vanguard liquidated as an entity; its leader executed for treason.

Volger was transferred as XO to the 41st LSC (Indigo-2). Specializing in hazardous materials; he would spend three years helping the Void Ship [i]Unrepentant[i] and its compliment of Imperial sponsored Lancers track down and destroy a terrorist group planning a chemical weapons attack. Success there brought glory and rewards for all involved.

With Volger’s award being his how Lancer Support Company. The 89th, a space assault unit, was in need of a commander as it was slated for attachment to the Imperial Prince’s void ship. Necessary; since the void ship’s last attachment had been transferred due to a sudden urgency for their jungle warfare skills. Volger is looking forward to his first full time command; but is hesitant given the situation.

Nothing is ever straightforward in the Empire. Even less so when the royal family is involved.
I'm in
John


“If you all wish to rest,” Fihlyn said at last, her voice gentle but steady, “I should be able to manage the vessel until we reach the jump point.” She offered a faint smile, an invitation rather than an order. It’s not like they had anything like a chain of command at this point, anyway. “You have done more than enough for one day.”


John gave a sigh as he looked at the display. ETA, flight path and the systems all looked green. Then he looked down at his self. Gore still covered his front and none of it was his.

A sigh then as he stood and glanced around the bridge. Finally focusing on Fihlyn.

"Alright, I'm going to go wash off what's left of my friends and see if they have anything in my size. I'll be back in time for the jump." He made to leave but stopped; looking in askance to Velia. Where's the nearest cabin that had someone preferably near my size?"
John


John could admit that he wasn’t thinking clearly as of late. The situation they had found themselves in was dangerous in so many varying ways. Tensions were obviously high.

He just didn’t expect the comm officer to crack slightly. His eye brow raising as Velia composed herself at the end of her spiel. Adopting her previous tone.

"I'm not the Captain. The Captain is dead. I'm the Comms Officer... BUT, we need to get everyone who isn't essential to the running of the ship into cryosleep so that we don't run out of supplies. I have no idea how long we're going to be up here before we get any more food. It would be terribly droll if we survived getting eaten by bugs only to starve to death on the ship. We'll also need to do a sweep for bugs onboard. Because if they build a colony in here without us noticing until its too late, we're also all dead."


“Alright then… Let’s not announce we have no Captain yet right away then.” John’s mind was thinking the wheels turning. “Make an announcement for cryo on Captain’s orders; keep the bridge sealed for the Metacer threat. And we keep everything locked down till we have all the civvies on ice and the ship swept…

He paused. A frown on his face.

“Do we have any trigger pullers or space ape types on board? Or did they all get left behind?”

The pilot looked around the bridge. Taking in the various ‘crew’ that had filled up the needed seats. If the rest of the ship looked like this; there was going to be a lot of double duty in this cruise.
John


"We don't have a destination, Mister Lockman," Vitiafa answered with a sniffle from her own claimed chair in the bridge. "I suppose that's a conversation to have once we have gained our new bearings. I can't imagine Miss Larci was thinking this far ahead when she brought us aboard."


John felt his frustrations began to boil through. Perhaps not righteous or reasonable but he was still buzzed, covered in blood that wasn’t his and definite feeling the multiple adrenaline dumps he had endured today. His tone was somewhat bitter as he scrolled through the unfamiliar menus for a some kind of navigation chart.

“So maybe someone can figure where we have to go. Then we can head that way so we don’t have to wait in orbit for years and get thawed out by some inept salvage crew.”

Velia cut in then. Their comm officer who had given them the keys to the kingdom so to speak.

"Roll a dice and head for one," she concluded.


“Roll a dice…” John’s helmet was off so the bridge could see the disbelieving look on his face. Staring at Velia before it morphed to spiteful acceptance. “Fine I’ll just set out last functioning starship in a random jump point and hope me and her…” A nod at Filhyn’s direction. “… can handle this beast. Why not?”

He was still looking at Velia as he stabbed at a random option on the nav chart. Selecting a jump point at random; the suggested course, approach angle and speed bow displayed for the bridge. A soft green overlay saying the nav computer found the selected option within its capabilities.

“There, heading is locked in. Two and a half hours to jump point. Anything else Captain?”
Aden


Aden might not have not been able to find out the fate of his friends and comrades at the moment. But Zoe’s admission that there would be a least somewhere did at least give him a measure of hope.

Then Zoe’s next chosen topic struck him.

“Guard important people me…. Me?” An actual laugh. His dark eyes meeting hers with mirth in his. “Can you imagine me guarding a general? Or royalty?”

He took a breath. Leaning over the distance between them.

“Why? Do you head up the Honor Guard or something of that sort.” He took another drag of his cigarette and gave a friendly wiggle of the cigarette. “Father work in the court and have the king’s ear?”

Another drag of the cigarette.

“But I guess I would do anything to help the war effort. If guarding some snobby noble or officer in the rear is how they want me to help; then I’ll do it.” He waggled his wounded arm. “Besides less chance of catching bullets I guess; right.”

He paused, shaking the ashes in the tray of Zoe's now abandoned cigarette.

"I'm sure the Empire will last a week. Three weeks at the least." A sad smile on his face. "Long enough for my next assignment. Whether that be the meat grinder or guarding some stuck up member of the royalty... No offense to present company of course."

@Dyelli Beybi
Aden


Aden for all of his troubles, experiences and brashness of youth; looked sheepish as he flicked a bit of ash into a tray.

“Ah well… I got drunk in a bar.” He motioned at the brandy. Taking another puff of his cigarette before continuing. “My family are traders. I was in Inbur to learn the ropes so to speak. Get a handle of the family business. Out ship was docked and I snuck off for some unchaperoned shore leave. I went to the more unsavory side of town. My accent stood out. Someone took offense to it. I took offense to their offense.”

He shrugged. A slight amused smile as he tapped a cheek.

“Inburian boy had a hell of a right hook. Too bad for him my uppercut was better.”

Another puff of his cigarette.

“Spent a night in the drink tank. Woke up to them hauling me to court. Thought I was a different drunkard; a habitual fighter. One constable though gave me a choice. Said I could join the army and the charges would all be dropped.”

Aden pulled out his lighter again. The battered unit lighter with the 46th Alpine’s insignia on one side. The Inburian standard on the other. A slight smile on his face.

“I took it. At the time it seemed to good to be true. A new life away from my familial obligations. A pardon from crimes that I was being accused of. Adventure and glory….”

The smile died at the last part.

“I don’t regret joining up. Serving your country. Fine men. Good brothers and friends. Just wish I wasn’t here seeing the world burn in front of me. Don’t even know who’s…”

A few beats of silence as Aden’s face turned from mournful to thoughtful.

“Say you don’t think that they would publish a list of casualties right? From the front? Like an obituary…. It would be in a newspaper right??!! Or a pamphlet.”

He seemed to be getting excited. Not for the morbidity of the subject but rather the possibility, the hope, that someone he knew was still out there. Or at the very least not confirmed dead.

Not matter how slim.

@Dyelli Beybi
Aden


Aden lit his own cigarette at her approval; relishing the different acrid burn while pulling out another for the brunette seated near him. An odd amount of contradictions and inconsistencies that Aden puzzled to piece together. She had obviously come from a well-off family; her knowledge reflected it. Encyclopedic and yet lacking in some of the mundane. Reveling in the ability to experience that which she had been denied.

Aden had gone through a similar phase.

"That's another thing a young lady is not supposed to do!" her dark eyes sparkled in amusement, "Why not!... but you'll have to show me how it works."


Aden gave her the cigarette, adjusting her fingers to mirror his. A flick of his battered lighter and her's was lit; the ember's smoldering. Aden gave an exaggerated inhale, the end of his flaring orange before dying down. An exhale sent the smoke to curl into the air.

He waited for Zoe to mimic it; anticipating an exact mimicry. And the result it would bring.

All the while his own dark eyes pondering over the mystery at the moment that was a Miss Zoe Spyrou.
Aden


"I know a few words" Aden said, a slight grimace on his face. It turned out liquor still didn't agree with him anymore then it had on the night of his enlistment. He resolved to find an ale but for now politely followed Zoe's lead with his significantly smaller dollop. "They are however not conducive to polite company. Never took to foreign languages; no matter how much my tutor's tried. "

He made for another sip but the burn still residing in his throat made him set the glass back on the table. Though Zoe's declaration caused him to raise an eyebrow.

"And why would a refined lady want to enjoy the likes of brandy?"

He busied himself with removing a fresh cigarette; sticking it between his lips and going to light it when manners caught up to him. The private looked over at his companion in askance. Lighter frozen in motion, open but not yet lit, his gaze looking sheepish.

"Would the lady care if I smoke.....Or perhaps you wish for one as well?" The last part came only because Zoe appeared to be indulging in new things. Well that and he had some cigarettes to spare at the moment.
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