Selection Time

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jkelley
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Full Name: Justin Kelley
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Joined: Fri Nov 30, 2007 12:08 am

Selection Time

Sun Jan 07, 2018 2:36 am

Looking around, the different members assembled could see an array of uniforms and civvies present. Every armed branch of the New Republic, and a few non-combat uniformed services, was present. Even the species present by most accounts didn't have a clear over representation present. Looking closer at those in military uniforms, it appeared even the ranks encompassed a wide spread, with nearly all the enlisted present up to junior NCOs and even a few low ranking officers.

"GROUP, ATTEN-HUT!" Came the yell from the front of those assembled.

As everyone scrambled to come to attention, another voice with the distinct accent of a Mon Calamari called out, "At ease." Striding past the group and making his was to the front was what appeared to be a middle-aged Mon Calamari in a pristine Naval uniform, the rank of Commander easily visible on the collar.

Turning, the commander surveyed the group assembled, hands clasped behind his back. "You represent the finest and brightest the New Republic has to offer. We have the pleasure of having some of the most decorated and skilled operators within their chosen field assembled together in this room. I am Commander Mxaiborn Ghou, commanding officer of this facility. I want to be the first to welcome you to JARSID. You have each accepted an invitation for one of the most fact-paced intensive training known to this universe. In spite of my aforementioned accolades for those assembled, many of you will not see this training through to completion. However, those that do will become members of an operational group that exceeds that of any other branch in the Republic. When solar flares close installations for fear of radioactive exposure, you will view that as an opportunity to work unnoticed." A Barabel standing among the NCOs behind the commander smiles slightly at the mention of radiation. The commander continues, not noticing, "When stars threaten to go supernova and whole systems are starting to be evacuated, you still go out for that last data file. And the list goes on."

The commander stopped while some of those gathered looked around at each other and up to the line of instructors at the front of the room. All wore military uniforms. Two were from the New Republic Army, a human and a Barabel. One wore navy dress, a Twi'lek. Another human was from SpecOps. The last was a Quarren from the Starfighter Corps. Some wore small smirks, others stood impassively, but all had their gaze intently locked on the group before them.

"Now, is there anything I need address for those assembled?" From the middle of the group, a hand shot up.

"Sir, I see that all facets of the military are present but I don't understand how that all works together for this unit."

"Due to the special nature of this team, and the small units utilized, we need the premier within each field represented to ensure the successful completion of your mission. Whether it is combat operator providing close support and defense, mechanics or demolitions for sensitive materials, pilots and medics, etc." He paused for a moment. "The wide range of missions that JARSID operator will encounter require a vast and broad skill set."

Looking up over the group, the Mon Cal smiled. "This class will also get the benefit of a special instructor that has agreed to return to the New Republic uniformed services. This instructor's has flown combat operations against the Death Star III, some of the most confirmed enemy dogfight kills, and an uncountable number of combat rescue flights. I give you retired Force General M'Chelle Chadez." The commander motions to the back of the room, where a petite human female stands at parade rest. "General Chadez, is there anything you would like to add?"

The woman shakes her head negative, her features remaining blank.

"Very well. I have spoken to the highly specialized nature of this particular detachment. I have spoken of the highly qualified nature of its candidates. You can understand the rigors of the training you will face ahead. There is nothing else I need say about the special nature of the JARSID program. I now give you over to my Command Master Chief, Vorn R'usk Al'kur."

"GROUP, ATTEN-HUT!" Came the yell again from the front of those assembled. This time everyone could see it came from the human in the army uniform.

The Mon Calamari commander gave a quick salute to someone else behind the group before turning and walking out. As he did so, those present noticed a shadow moving towards the front of the room. The gray alien was small, not even topping 1.4 meters, but he was unmistakable. He was a Noghri.

Standing quietly, the Noghri spent a moment peering at each individual present. Once he had thoroughly scanned the entire room, he finally spoke. His voice was quiet, but it carried an air of authority that spoke of countless experience. "Omnes alios esse sui. The motto, Old Jedi...it roughly means all life is valuable. Looking at this excuse of life in front of me, I think it might be time to change that motto. Never have I seen such a pathetic excuse for life assembled in such a big group. Now I always like to check to see if there is one among you that thinks you can knock me on my ass." He paused a second, scanning back over the crowd. "No," The Noghri finished. "I didn't think so. The next 20 weeks will determine if my staff can mold you in to a successful JARSID operator or not."

Pacing back and forth and front of the group, the Chief continued. "I like to get the housekeeping out there on the first day so everyone is on the same page. All exercises are graded on a 'go, no-go' scale. You get a no-go, you are gone. You fail here, and you get sent home. You get out there and you fail, people die. You make it through this course, and you will be called to serve in some of the most extreme, inhospitable circumstances around. To simulate that, your training will be extreme and inhospitable. If at any time you can't handle this training, that is perfectly fine by me. You come up, you ring out, you sign your NRDF 263-b DOR and you're back to three hots and a cot." Rubbing his hands together, the Noghri smiled sinisterly. "Now, you might have 20 weeks to prove me wrong about who you really are, but Day 1 I am always right. Let's see who isn't up to snuff. Chief Evaswacre, find me a quitter."

The Twi'lek moves forward, "You will have 5 minutes to find your bunk, store your gear and be back out here for your first PT test. Fall out!"

Vorn R'usk Al'kur and M'Chelle Chadez walk back towards the NCO unit, joined by a few of the other instructors. The Twi'lek, the SpecOps human, and the Quarren remain out in the assembly area.

OOC: This is an opportunity for anyone interested to get to know each other while I work with them on character approval to get everything going.
Here is a list of the staff:

Code: Select all

Rank	                                Grade	Branch	        Name	                Species
Command Master Chief	E-9	        NR Navy	        Vorn R'usk Al'kur	Noghri
Master Sergeant	                E-8	        NR Army	Lessly Staph	        Human
Chief Petty Officer	        E-7	        NR Navy	        Evaswacre	        Twi'lek
Staff Sergeant	                E-6	        NR SpecOps	Hansa Turff	        Human
Staff Sergeant	                E-6	        NR Army	Yek Tesok	        Barabel
Technical Sergeant	        E-6	        NR SFC	        Forurl Gondi	        Quarren
Force General (ret)	        O-11	NR SFC	        M'Chelle Chadez	Human
Commander	                        O-5	        NR Navy	        Mxaiborn Ghou	Mon Calamari
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Matt Nolan
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: Selection Time

Sat Jan 20, 2018 11:10 pm

Kallan had felt the tension rise in the room as the Commander's speech progressed. Even the hardened veterans in the group weren't immune. It was an irrepressible reaction to the situation they had put themselves in. Most of this crowd had either been through this somewhere else, or had done the research. The cadre would exhaust the candidates; inadequate food, less sleep, constant assessments without feedback and continual exertion both metal and physical to keep them off balance.

Any actual training would probably come after the initial weeding out was done, so for the moment, Kallan's mission was to hang tough and not draw any extra attention. It would come though, no doubt. Every candidate would have their turn but the less heat he drew, the better he would fare. At least that's what the Specs he had been working with told him when he had volunteered for this program.

There was an almost imperceptible pause after the Twi'Lek spoke, then a scramble as the candidates broke formation and scurried to comply. Even the composed veterans got caught in the surge, dragged along by the rush to follow orders. What might have been a disciplined move with purpose quickly devolved into a near melee as some candidates sprinted to be first and the rest rushed not to be last.

Kallan dumped his duffle and pack on a bunk and made a fast change into PT gear. He considered trying to set his gear up in some type of inspection order, but decided that whatever the candidates did would be wrong anyway and seeing as they'd been to told to find their bunks, and none of them were named or designated, it was probably just one more mind flip the candidates would have to deal with. He set his duffle on the foot of the bunk and stashed the pack underneath. At least it looked neater than some, with gear and clothing strewn over a couple of nearby bunks sure to draw extra attention from the cadre.

Heading back out to the assembly point at a jog, Kallan felt the surge of adrenaline in his gut and chest. This was it, the beginning. Where it would lead remained to be seen.
jkelley
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Full Name: Justin Kelley
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Re: Selection Time

Sun Jan 21, 2018 8:38 pm

The candidates returned to the assembly area quickly. Chief Petty Officer Evaswacre stood in front, the other two NCOs off to each side a little way. Once everyone had come to some semblance of a formation, he called out. "Too slow. If you are going to be successful part of this team, you will learn to understand that every deadline you're given by brass is usually about twice as much time as you actually have to perform. You're first lesson, the galaxy doesn't care what your orders are, where you're going, or how critical the objective is." He paced up and down the line, his gaze settling on Kallan a moment longer than the others. His lekku gave a noticeable twitch before he turned away. "Sergeant Gondi, let's trim the weeds."

The Quarren moved to the front. "You all might have been expecting a PT test, some running, some jumping, other craptastic calisthenics." Whatever the Quarren's face was doing, it was apparently what passed for a smile. "We have something a little different in mind." It was then that Kallan noticed Sergeant Turff making his way back, dragging a large hose behind him. Sergeant Gondi continued. "It was mentioned you will be called to serve in extreme environments, so your training will be like-wise." Sergeant Turff flipped the hose on, drenching everyone assembled. The pressure was intense, sending small involuntary shocks through those present. Finally, the torrential downpour ceased.

"Let's go for a run." The three NCOs turned and started off down an old dusty path. Each was likewise soaked, same as the candidates. The main difference was, each of the three still stood tall and Kallan was unable to notice a single shock or shiver from them. The pace was break neck fast, but it wasn't a light shuffle either. Once the group started down the path, foliage quickly blocked the assembly area from view, and the sunlight. The temperature dropped suddenly, and small puffs of breathe could be seen as each member took a breath. The pace didn't slow, and everyone was able to keep up, despite the cold seeping into every pore.

After what Kallan guessed was an hour, a small opening appeared. Inside it there were a six troop transports. Chief Al'kur, Sergeant Staph, Sergeant Tesok, and General Chadez each stood in the opening. Sergeant Gondi called out, "Group halt. Everyone will count off by sixes, starting here." He pointed to a corner of the group. As the group counted off, Sergeant Gondi grabbed a small duffel bag from the Master Chief.

"All those that counted off as group 1 will assembly on Chief Al'kur. Group 2 on Sergeant Staph, Group 3 on Petty Officer Evaswacre, Group 4 will be with Sergeant Turff, Group 5 on Sergeant Tesok, and Group 6 on General Chadez." Sergeant Gondi gave a half salute, half wave off to Chief Al'kur before jumping into a landspeeder that was tucked between the transports. The landspeeder took off, while each of the designated group leaders moved to the transport entrances.

Kallan happened to count off to Group 6. M'Chelle dumped her duffel bag out, revealing a number of canteens. She started kicking them in the direction of the disorderly group making its way over to her. "Each of you will grab a canteen and store it on your personage. You will board the transport, but you will not sit down and you will maintain a half meter spacing between each of you." She hopped into the transport and moved to the front. As the group followed her in, a blast of cold air swarmed over them. It was quickly apparent these weren't troop transports, but cold storage transports. "Now, everyone will empty the contents of their canteen over their head." She called out. As Kallan opened the canteen, he realized that it wasn't filled with water, but what appeared to be some type of alcohol. There was the small victory that Kallan had managed to work himself mostly dry during the run. The downside was that alcohol had a lower freezing point than water and would actually make them feel colder than they really were. Kallan estimated that hypothermia would start in less than 4 or 5 minutes. Loss of consciousness would only be a few minutes behind that. The group all lurched backwards as the transport started to move off.
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Matt Nolan
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Re: Selection Time

Mon Jan 22, 2018 8:27 am

...At least motor co-ordination hasn't gone yet... thought Kallan as the transport rocked into motion. He and the other candidates were able to maintain was able to their stances without too much difficulty, although that would get harder as the effects of the cold took hold.

The instructions had been specific, but not exhaustive. As long as something wasn't expressly out of bounds, Kallan considered it fair game. Stay half a metre apart, don't sit.

...OK then...

Kallan's plan was to stay standing until he felt on the verge of stage two hypothermia, then crouch and wrap his arms around his legs and try to indulge his core as much as possible. As long as he was not fitting or closer than 50cm, he was complying. There had been no mention of no co-operating, so if one of the other candidates was looking like keeling over, he would give what help he could while still complying. Other than that, he'd just have to gut it out as long as possible.

This could be a "see who doesn't like it and drops out" test, "see who lasts the longest" or anything in between. Kallan considered playing the training game seeing as this was in fact, a training environment, but rejected that almost straight away. This was too important to try gaming the cadre, to give them what they were looking for in each scenario. Besides, he'd probably get it wrong anyway. He would be better off just reacting how he normally would, and hope he was what they were looking for.

Kallan knew that movement was unlikely to generate enough heat to offset the cold environment and all the candidates should have enough energy reserves to recover once they were removed, depending what stage the General let them reach. He was on the look out for symptoms. If they reached the point where they stopped shivering, the candidates would probably need heat packs and hot drinks to recover fully. And he couldn't see that happening.

Slow onset HT usually crept up on the patient without them noticing the symptoms but this had been dropped on them fast, so the changes would be apparent for someone looking. Kallan kept his eyes on the other candidates and the General as well as himself for the lack of shaking and co-ordination/responsiveness that meant they were getting worse.
jkelley
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Re: Selection Time

Tue Jan 23, 2018 1:31 am

The cold swept over each of the group members, the shivering shaking each individual intensely. A few members saw Kallan drop down and mirrored his movement, trying to salvage whatever warmth they could from each other. M'Chelle was likewise shivering, but her icy glare had little to do with the temperature as her gaze settled on Kallan's crouched body. Her body language gave little away though, and ultimately he was unsure if that was her normal gaze or something else. The shivering between everyone present was almost enough distraction, but he could see the former general's hand moving in a slow rhythm. She was counting.

"Every opportunity is one to learn. I'm not here to just cull the herd, but I also want to provide as many experiences as possible that will have real world benefits to each of you, especially with the tasks you will face." Her body shook almost uncontrollably, but her voice was clear enough for everyone. "You won't always end up on tropical beaches, white sand shifting between your toes...or whatever your idea of paradise might be. You might be tasked one day to face the most inhospitable weather imaginable, and who among you will have the mental fortitude to push through while your body starts to fail you? Putting you in those situations now will provide the opportunity for each of you to self reflect and decide if you have the fortitude to see the mission through to completion."

M'Chelle's fingers stopped their tapping and her stance shifted slightly. Almost on cue the transport abruptly stopped. Those crouched kept their balance by throwing their hands down. Kallan realized he couldn't feel the thin sheet of frost that had appeared along the floor. Those standing slid forward, most able to keep their balance. One unfortunate human near the front lost his balance and slid forward before coming to a rough stop as the general's boot came down hard on his shoulder. "I'll push you each as far as I can, but while you're a 'sixer' here with me, the go/no-go will come from each of you. Now enough of this sith accursed cold. Get out of here and form up outside."

Those nearest the back pushed the doors open and everyone stumbled out, their bodies moving sluggish as if some damned undead from the holoflicks. Everyone seemed in order, enough to Kallan at least, but they needed to warm up soon. Worse, the sun had already started its decent and nightfall would be upon them soon. "We have about 2 standard hours before twilight. You've just came upon a wrecked freighter's debris. While pulling the wounded crew, the hyperdrive reactor vented, covering you each in flammable coolant. Your pickup unexpectedly had to bug out to lay down some false leads after the appearance of some Imperials also searching for the freighter. You don't know when they'll be back." She gestures towards the center of the clearing. "We've got a couple medkits, some basic knives, and that's about it for this exercise. I'm the wounded crew, who is incapacitated. Complete the mission," She says, pointing to herself, "and get everyone back."

[There are 4 medkits and 4 combat knives. The medkits each have a medpack, a fireproof thermal blanket, some generic 'gray' protein, a few ounces of water, and some adrenaline.]
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Matt Nolan
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Re: Selection Time

Wed Jan 24, 2018 10:46 pm

It was good to be out of the freezing transport, and no-one seemed to be seriously affected by the snap-freeze.

...Now I know what a Tauntaun feels like... Kallan thought ruefully as the General poured out her brief for the next exercise.

Glancing around at the other candidates, Kallan looked to see if anyone was going to step up. He waited for two breaths, then spoke. He wasn't sure about how a group of motivated high achievers like this would take to not always being the one in charge. In theory they were all experienced and smart enough to know that teamwork trumped egos, but it remained to be seen. Taking a steadying breath, Kallan grabbed the reins and stared handing out tasks.

Pointing at the candidate who had slipped just before they got out of the transport, he said, “You are now the quartermaster. You are responsible for our gear: issuing, use, who has what.” He looked around at the rest of the group and picked out two more.

“One, Two. You are the medical detail. Wrap the injured crew in one of the blankets, stay with and monitor her condition.”

“Who here can show me a Pathfinder badge? Good. I want you running a clearing patrol of the immediate area, perimeter no further than you can run back here in two minutes. See and hear them before you are heard or seen. And I need to know if there is a water source we can use. You’ll have twenty minutes.”

“The rest of us will split into fours and work on a stretcher for the casualty in case we have to bug out, and shelters. I want a volunteer to figure out how to get comms with our back-up as well.”

Kallan knew his plan wasn’t the greatest, but it didn’t have to be. A less than perfect plan was better than none at all and it would probably get adjusted as time went on, if it went on. What he was trying to do was give people a task to do, and an activity to get warm.

Providing they could shake off the chills before night fell, the group could make it through rotating the blankets around and sharing body heat if necessary. Water was a more pressing concern but they needed to deal with one tripwire at a time.

“Is anyone unclear? Good, get moving.”
jkelley
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Re: Selection Time

Thu Jan 25, 2018 1:45 am

The designated quartermaster passed one of the blankets to the two medics before M'Chelle took it from them and wrapper herself. Her steely gaze settled on Kallan once again as he continued issuing orders. It wasn't clear if the members of the group were following the commands given out of an assumed leadership hierarchy or simply the benefit of actively doing something. Two members took off to scout the perimeter, leaving eight team members including Kallan. The two teams set about finding materials that could easily work for either a shelter or a stretcher. A quick affirmative came from comms that everything was working fine.

In response to the comment, the general started. "The plan is roughly 4-6 hours until pickup can circle back to gather the team. Things could change however. Transport will attempt to make communication when possible, but is otherwise advocating radio silence in case communications are being monitored." M'Chelle said. Time crept by, and for the hasty work being performed, Kallan was happy. The foliage and nearby materials wouldn't stop a storm, but they would suffice for temporary quarters if they needed to get through the night. By best estimates the twenty minutes came and went without the return of the two candidates that were scouting a perimeter, but it largely went unnoticed initially as everyone was caught up in completing the tasks assigned to them. The work had done its part and though the team wasn't comfortably warm by any means, body temperature was no longer an immediate threat. Still, depending on how long they could be out here left it still a threat on the horizon.

It was one of the two assigned medics that first brought it to the group's attention. "The scouts haven't returned. It's been a half hour at least." There was about another 45 minutes until the light started to fade, with perhaps a half hour of any kind of sunlight before night fell. "I think we need to take advantage of what light we have left and organize a group to go find them. Four of us go out with the same plan to return in 20 minutes, the other seven can start work on the shelters." He finished, looking to Kallan as if for affirmation of the plan. Listening, Kallan turned towards the general, unsure if he had just seen the hints of a smile flash across her face. When he finally got a clear glimpse though, she had raised her eyebrows slightly, as if she too was interested to see how the impromptu team leader was going to respond.

The shelters still needed to be assembled, but there was enough material gathered. It appeared the plan was for an assortment of lean-tos, and the added benefit would be they could quickly be converted to a ad-hoc stretcher if they needed to move quickly. The three remaining blankets would serve as the windward side of the shelter and body heat would be the primary warmth for those sleeping. But two troops were missing and this was unfamiliar territory. Neither had taken a knife with them on the search, so the quartermaster still had all four.
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Matt Nolan
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Re: Selection Time

Thu Jan 25, 2018 3:54 am

Kallan thought for a moment, weighing the options. The scouts could just be taking their time, being thorough. They might be lying low to avoid compromise, or they could injured, dead or captured. There were too many question marks and not enough information to make a clear decision on what to do. Except that doing nothing didn't improve their situation.

"Sound off if you have Infantry experience," Kallan asked, partially to choose the most capable to mount the second patrol, and partially to give himself time to plan. When he had the three most qualified members identified, he outlined the plan.

"Mission stays the same: safely extract the freighter crew. I will take the patrol to locate the scouts." Kallan indicated the outspoken member of the medic crew as he continued.

"You are now in charge of the camp. Maintain medical on the crew and continue to set up the shelters. Maintain comms silence unless hard compromised, in which case you call for immediate extract. If the pickup notifies of early departure, acknowledge and maintain the camp until they are two minutes out. If all members of "Six" are not back before that time, give an audible two minute signal we can hear and prepare to extract. When the pick up arrives, You will extract, regardless of whether we are back."

Kallan turned to the three patrol members and gave them a short briefing as well.

"We follow up the first patrol's trail. Two pairs, bounding overwatch. One knife per pair, low and slow. We locate the scouts and assess what we've got. If we get bumped by the opposition, we break contact away from the camp and re-assess when we're clear. Quartermaster, I want two knives and a medkit, keep everything else ready to move. If there are no questions, we move out."

Kallan planned to take the medkit himself and split the knives between his pair and the other in what he was think of now as the the recovery patrol. It was a risk going out himself, but everything was a risk that needed to be balanced. Barring outright assault the camp was in reasonable order and he was probably better placed with the patrol than sitting on his hands in camp. Satisfied with what he had done, Kallan prepared to move out with the patrol.
jkelley
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Full Name: Justin Kelley
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Re: Selection Time

Thu Jan 25, 2018 6:10 pm

Everything started into motion. Those staying behind went about setting up the camp while Kallan and his three recoverists set off to find the missing personnel. The trail wasn't difficult to pickup, and after about 15 minutes Kallan could hear the sound of muffled voices. Peaking out from behind cover, he could see the two initial scouts tied down to the ground, gags stuffed into their mouths. It appeared they were trying to work the gags out of their mouths. No one else was visible, although various vermin crawlers had made their way out to the two scouts. None had started in on them yet, it seemed they were intelligent enough to wait until the troopers had fatigued more.

It was then that they heard a loud explosion from the direction of the camp. Turning, the recovery team saw a brightness that rivaled solar noon, but much closer to the ground. The comlink immediately buzzed, and Kallan's earpiece chimed in his ear, "Contact, hostiles assaul..." The transmission cut off mid sentence. The group was too far to hear anything else, and whatever cause the massive brightness faded after a few seconds.

The tethered scouts seemed in decent health, but upon closer examination, both have suffered minor head trauma. Both appear to have lost consciousness from a blunt trauma head wound and had superficial lacerations in varying spots from head to toe. Neither had any apparent serious injuries, but both wouldn't be at the top of their game for a while. The other recovery team quickly scouted the surrounding area before coming back to Kallan and his partner. "All clear." One said, just loud enough for Kallan to hear him. Both set about releasing the troopers and removing the gags.

The first trooper released looked around warily. "We didn't see them, or even how many 'them' they are." He rubbed the knot on his forehead gently. I saw Glick there take a shot to the head from a club, but I didn't have enough time to even identify the attacker before I got this." He finished pointing to his goose-egg. "They were on us less than a few minutes before we exited the clearing at the camp. They were good."

"A couple minutes..." Kallan's partner whispered. "They were waiting for us to leave. They were watching us all along." He shook his head.

[Both the scouts are wounded once from the head injuries. The cuts on their bodies have already scabbed over and don't present any immediate risk. They will need a good clean when able though.]
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Matt Nolan
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Re: Selection Time

Mon Jan 29, 2018 7:16 am

Turning to his partner for a moment, Kallan shot him a quick ironic smile. "Yeah, well if we wanted fair play we should have joined Security Force." He turned back to the newly freed scouts and picked the one that hadn't spoken on the grounds he was suffering more from the blow to head than his buddy.

"Glick? You're getting patched up. Sit down while I have a look where you blocked that club with your skull." Kallan looked at the second scout with that not-quite apologising apologetic tone medics have and said to him "Only one medpac, you'll have to tough it out. Try getting a sitrep off the camp or our pick up to take your mind off the pain"

Treating Glick gave Kallan a little time to consider the situation. The camp was compromised, situation not known, including the injured crew. Waiting here wasn't going to achieve anything, and unless the pickup was bringing the cavalry with them right now they would have to push on as best they could. The remainder of the team needed information though, and that meant not getting caught.

"Ok, I want a slow patrol back towards camp, coming in at three o'clock to where we left. Let's not give the kriffers the satisfaction of taking us down easy. We know their sneaky, so let's either bump them first or slip by. In pairs: two forward, one in depth, V formation. Stay in a position to support your patrol buddy. And don't forget this," Kallan paused to make sure the other five candidates had given their full attention before he continued.

"We might be the only six, "Sixers" left, but we are still in this fight. Mission is the same: safely extract the injured crew. We close recon the camp, find out what we've got." He looked directly at each of the candidates for a moment, then wrapped it up.

"Let's go slap this Gundark"

Actions-
First Aid on Glick using the medpac to heal him.

Sneak during the patrol back to camp.

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