Board Thread:Role Plays (AU)/@comment-13427943-20170213053613/@comment-26104528-20170214220528

In a seperate hyperspace lane from the Hammer of Twilight, the highly customized Adjutant also sped towards Voss. The two crew members, all clad in the Mandolorian standard of T-Visored helmets and Beskar armor plating, sat in relative silence.

The pilot, clearly the eldest of the trio was clad in a black longcoat, pockets stuffed with ammunition and other supplies. Her armor had highlights of cyan here and there while teeth from one of her previous kills adorned her helmet, giving it a beastly appearance. Like anything of Mandolorian design, it prioritized function over form given the shortened lengths and dulled points.

In the communication officer's seat was a younger looking fellow, with gunmetal and navy blue as his choice of colors. Despite his lazy slouch, he still took his job somewhat seriously as he scrolled through the local bounties for the Outer Rim. Pirates, Slavers, Smugglers, lots of people that nobody would miss and would be at most a few sweats of a workout.

"Son, if you spend all your bait on small fish, you'll have nothing left to catch the big one." Lucina spoke up.

"Mmm-hmmm, so why not let me come along? A Seppie general's worth a lot to the Republic..." Stahlfritz replied, closing the browser and adjusting his seat.

"We've been over this. My son is not marrying a laandur woman; I want to see myself what this 'Estellia' can do."

Fortunatly well out of earshot, Estellia was busy tinkering with the HUD settings on her helmet. Like her armor, it was predominantly yellow with black tiger stripes running across it. Putting it back on, she turned out the lights in the Adjutant's workshop and manually checked each setting.

Thermoelectric, all good. The individual power conduits of the ship all had an ornage glow to them.

Holographic Vision Processing, optimal. Even in thick dust or smoke, nothing was safe.

Night-Vision, excellent. In a grayscale, the darkened room was still crystal clear. Clear enough for her to see Nomad standing nearby. A rangefinder was attached to his helmet, a kama was worn around his belt and a jetpack was attached to his back. With a quick salute, he flipped the lights back on.

"Ma'am, do you have any motion sickness medication?" he asked, standing at attention and pointing at the medbay behind her.

"Probably, your lunch sparring with your stomach?" Stella asked while unlocking the door and perusing the cabinets.

"It's Asher Ma'am. He says he's not feeling well." Nomad replied while scanning the room with his eyes. His tone showed he'd had this conversation with many people before. "You'd think a clone like him wouldn't get spacesick anymore."

"In his defence, how many clones get to go on assignment with an actual Mandolorian?" Stella replied caringly. Nomad and the rest of Swordfish Squad, having served an illustrious career on Saleucam were on the roster for being potential ARC Troopers; thier last test was a mission with the Lucina the Banshee. This wasn't the first time she'd been hired by the Republic to oversee clone training, but the first time she'd had anyone other than maybe her son accompany her on assignment.

"Well, I've got nothing." Stella shrugged. "Tell 'im to pinch the spot between your thumb and index finger, midway 'tween the webbing and wrist. It'll help a little." with that, she ascended the ladder toward her station.