Terrans

Lancer [Mechs, Magic, and Intrigue]

Commander Stader Volger

CO 89th LSC (Onyx-9)

The gentle thrum of the shuttle reverberated through his boots. A familial sensation as Volger checked the TacLink and found the Lance for the most part assembled.

Onyx-9 Actual to Lance. Proceeding to objective.

The shuttle’s accelerated in response. Assuming their own formation amidst whichever one the Lance threw up around the craft. Volger watched the embarked troopers of his shuttle; swaying in their restraints to the gentle motions. Harnesses and mag locks resisting the g-forces for the most part. A sea of emotionless visors locked-

A sudden jerk as the shuttles hastily decelerated. Volger’s contemplation apparently having carried him through the transit.

“Approaching debris field.” The pilot came over the internal comm. “Stand by EV.”

Volger’s shuttle was the last to arrive the rest of the unit having already begun to disperse. Blue dots bouncing among the sensor scattering wreckage of battle.

The loadmaster at the rear of the bay flipped a switch. The soft red glow of the bay switched to a harsher orange tint. The trooper’s stood; mag boots holding them to the deck.

The loadmaster, satisfied, dropped the rear ramp. Stars replaced the grey ramp as the latter whine opened silently in the vacuum. The orange glare turned to harsh green. The troopers moved in seeming tandem. Rows lifting away and jetting towards the opening; puffs of maneuvering harnesses and the occasional thruster pack as the platoon on the shuttle made their way to-

A light so bright his visor polarized in reflex. Alarms flared on his HUD even as the ship beneath him skewed. Casualty markers on the edge of his vision. His comm flaring to life on Onyx-9’s TacLink. Platoon leaders and Lt. Diaz flooding the channel in the frantic professionalism of troopers in contact.

”Contact!!!”

“Launcher’s down. Anyone see if Actual made it out?”

“Shooters in the debris field.”

“Second platoon clear that wreckage.”

Volger shook his head. The bay in front of him was a visage. A man sized hole was punched through the troop bay’s right side. The remains of four troopers drifted near the breach. Twice that number were in various states of distress. Bright yellow med sealant visible on their punctured armor from their med systems. A surviving medic floated between them.

Beyond, the bay door was still open. Past the dead loadmaster was the distant strobes of muzzle flashes and the thermal blooms of plasma and laser weapons. Volger jabbed his quick release; snatching a floating PDW from an unfeeling grip. His weapon lost in the blast.

His TacLink’s suddenly blared red as Diaz pushed an image from a helmet cam. His blood running cold even as his company fought though the ambush. A stomper disappeared in a spray of gas as the newest threat made their danger apparent.

Onyx-9 Actual to Lance. Hostiles have three mech’s in the debris field. I need them gone.

Empire of the Clouds

Aden

Aden had been looking at Zoe. Trying to puzzle her out. The slight contradictions. Her oddly specific knowledge, that was also lacking in some basic aspects. Mannerisms that-

The sharp report of a rifle reverberated through the air. Close enough that Aden recognized that it had come from the air ship.

He stood rapidly; his forgotten smoke falling to the deck in a spray of hot ash and smoke. Leather whispering as his pistol suddenly appeared in his hand.

Free hand shooting out on instinct grabbing Zoe’s wrist and pulling her roughly behind him. Eyes searching in line with the pistol sights. Wounded arm protesting slightly behind the encroaching rush of adrenaline.

“Stay here. Lock the door.” He went to leave the room. Following what he believed had been the gunshot. Pistol bobbing with his increased breathing. No signs of anyone assaulting the airship. Nor did the city outside the portholes appear to be under siege. The corridors lay-

The cargo hold door was open. The faint scuff of boot on metal the only wound following in the gunshot’s wake.

Aden laid a cautious boot into the hold. Pistol leveled as he scanned the row of crates.

“Inburian Army. Everyone freeze!!!!” Not the best line but the other option was indiscriminately firing into the bay at vague shadows.

@Dyelli Beybi @InfamousGuy101

Lancer [Mechs, Magic, and Intrigue]

Commander Stader Volger

Leader 89th LSC (Onyx-9)
The Indomitus

The armor of Imperial Lancer Support Companies was a polychromatic blend; capable of adopting countless of preprogrammed patterns and colors for the vast worlds of the Imperium. Today, Volger and his company wore the striped gray and black of space assault. Geometric stripes and mottled shapes of dark and slightly darker color’s that were designed to blend with the vacuum of space or the exterior hull of a ship.

So it was this color that the troopers of Onyx-9 rushed around their area of the ship. The embarked trooper area wasn’t as glamorous or spacious as the Lancer Bay. Same for their facilities and quarters. But it was no less busy and its equipment just as maintained.

Volger having already donned his armor sans helmet watched the preparations from a catwalk.

Most of the troopers were finishing their preparations; strapping into their assault frames. Exterior mounted exo-suits that hooked into hard points on their armor; zero-gee equipment, survival tanks and boosters already attached in preparation for the assault. Pouches stuffed with ammo, equipment and the much hated zero-gravity sustenance paste.

Some troopers however had no assault frames or even armor. They wore the standard vacuum proof undersuit and a small vest with a chest rigged pistol and knife. These troopers stepped towards what looked like miniature Lancer gantries; here nine foot tall giants awaited their pilots. The “stompers” were the middle gap between infantry and Lancer. Looking like a headless man with weapons affixed to his arms; the stomper’s pilot sat safely ensconced within the layers of armor that could shrug off small arms fire like a summer’s rain. Against Lancers and armor however, stompers died fast.

But within the confines of the Venture; they would be a nice force multiplier.

“Commander Volger. Platoons are standing by for embark.” Lieutenant Diaz reported. Her voice coming in over the command channel clear.

Volger gave a look over his troops one more time. The milling have stopped by now. Orderly ranks of men and woman now lined the embarkation bay. Mirrored visors hid expressions that were probably too young. Rifles held in assured grips as others lugged disassembled heavy weapons or breaching equipment.

Maybe someone else would have given a rousing speech. A final warning. Voters instead to let the silence linger.

Then he keyed the ear piece.

“Onyx-9, embark and prep for launch.”

Then the bay dissolved to ordered chaos as hundreds of pairs of boots stomped to their shuttles.

******

The troop commander’s seat on a MSV-36 Chariot assault shuttle was definitely a degree more padded than the standard trooper’s seat.

Volger found humor with the fact that such a small feature had been added. It was with a bemused smile that he toggled open the Lancer comm channel.

“Onyx-9 Actual to Lance; we are launched and standing by for escort.”

Lancer [Mechs, Magic, and Intrigue]

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.

Lancer [Mechs, Magic, and Intrigue]

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.

Lancer [mechs, magic, and intrigue]

I'm in

Paradise Lost

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.”

@Bentus

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?"

Paradise Lost

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."

@Dyelli Beybi

“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.

Paradise Lost

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."

@Bingelly

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.

@Dyelli Beybi

“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?”

Empire of the Clouds

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