Drano's squad

Drano looked over his ‘squad’ surprised that he was being allowed to be in charge of something. Maybe the new CO hadn’t read everybody’s records yet. Or maybe he just didn’t have any other Sergeants to select.

It didn’t matter; he’d still do his job. He quickly gave instructins to his squad. “Mephisto since the demons are probably your pets you stick with them. I want you up front.” The shifter could always summon more demons if they got wasted.

“Lotus, you’re our eyes in the sky. You see something of interest direct us to them. If something light you up get low and back to us.”

Not knowing the capabilities of the new borg and the newly arrived jet black D-Bee Drano wanted them close, at least until he know what they were capable of. If they were lucky they'd still be alive by the end of the week. If not they'd be like all of the other replacements that rotated into Pluto Company and had gotten wasted.“You two are with me. What are each of your specialties?” It was obvious that Drano’s Glitter Boy stood a good chance of taking out a CS tank platoon by itself.... In addition to the boom gun it had a few more additions. On the left shoulder was a ten shot mini-missile launcher. Each hand had retractable vibro claws, on the right hip was a CS CTT-P40 PBC rifle in large holster, and on the left hip was a storage box.

Over the radio he got a hold of Silvermasque. “You wanna take the north-east or south-east patrol route?”

Mephisto and the two demons eventually made their way over to Drano and their new squad.

"Not a problem. The big one can turn invisible, and will be for most of the patrol I think. Are you wanting us to go on foot, or should I bring the hover-skiff?"

Deumos towered over Mephisto, and most of the others... He didn't like being called a pet, but didn't speak up. He watches the others as they arrive, just staring, and probably day-dreaming of ripping everyone to pieces and bathing in their blood...

Kresil hopped and skipped along next to Deumos and Mephisto as they approach. The thoughts of killing Coalition soldiers in the near future danced in his head.

   "Gotcha sarge." Lotus replies as she walks over to her new squad.  The majestic gryphon she purchased in Tolkeen moves behind her, although its avian head is next to her own.  The creature seems to always keep an eye on its new caretaker, instinctively following Lotus' lead.  "Hey, you think they'll give you your old job back if you get enough of us back alive?" Lotus inquires bluntly.
   She puts her helmet on as a matter of getting ready to leave before mounting the saddle on the gryphon.  The animal actually seemed to lower its body to the ground to make it easier for her to climb up.  Either it is more intelligent than any other gryphon or Lotus is giving it telepathic commands... maybe both.

     Dusk collected his gear and mount and followed the human shifter, running an appraising eye over the man's demons.  Trying to remember if he'd seen similar before, where they were from and what might be expected of them, but if so it had been a long time back.

     His own transport was originally from offworld as well.  Resembling a cross between a cat and a dragon, it had a fishlike tail and a demon's face.  Calm eyes spaced wide on its skull focused on each of the nearest humanoids in turn.  Having developed a rapport with the animal Dusk could read its moods and was sure that at the moment the demonrunner would happily have tried to gulp a whole fire team of tired Tolkeenites down its blunt muzzle, if he'd let it.  Fortunately his magic kept it in check.  Trotting alongside and just as alien was his familiar Raze.  The beast stood as tall at the shoulder as a grown dwarf and overlapping plates like samurai armor covered every bit of it but eyes and teeth.

     The silhouette gave an expressive shrug and a bit of a head bobble, smiling as if amused and embarrassed at the idea of anything so quaint as a specialty.  Or having to brag for himself.  He looked down his chest at the strap of his rifle the belt of his sword the articulated toes of his black alienhide boots before answering with deep voice and many hand movements.  "I hide.  I shoot, cut, cast the magic.  Walk the Rifts."  In his offworld accent it sounded like 'Reefs'.  He began pulling at a length of chunky hematite beads wrapped around his left arm.  "Talk to the things, the ones from Outside."  His shifted his pupilless gaze towards Mephisto's servants and added significantly, "Usually not like them.  Spirits."

Dusk sniffed modestly and leaned back in the saddle.  "Some other things.  I was in Jahwaq Shin" he finished, as if that explained everything.

Turns out Drano didn't wear a big hat. Or any hat, really. It was starting to climb Perkins' nerves, how off-centered everything was compared to Kingsdale - 'course, Kingsdale was a big ol' mixing pot, where as Tolkeen was all about the mystic arts. He'd just been gone too long. Those glowing optics shift aside to watch the two demons, 'specially considering Perkins' own background - but it turns out the man in charge wanted him on a short leash.

If Perkins could grimace, he would. Rather, his thumping steps punctuate each grating word that echoes out of his speaker like talking through an empty metal barrel.

"Demon Heads, 'riginally. Special corps outta Kingsdale." He begins, reaching up to pluck that cigar from between his clamped jaw. Ammo chains and cables swing slowly as he moves, the hilt of a rather massive weapon - something of a combination between a six foot fat claymore and a wicked saw - poking vertically up opposite a few protrusions on the other 'shoulderblade'. "Killed demons good. Got a few surprises built-in for it. But guns, missiles, and ol' Smilin' Jack there work just as well on skull-boys as it does on flesh eaters." He rumbles. Glowing optics sliding aside again to their own 'pet demons'.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:09, Tue 24 Apr 2012.

“Sure bring the skiff.” There was no sense in denying the Shifter the use of his newly acquired vehicle. “If I stick the local guide with you can you make sure they don’t eat him?” It would be pretty shitty to report back to Major Karno and Lt Nuitari that the local guide got eaten by a ‘friendly’ demon.


“I pretty much have my old job back as a squad leader. I just get paid less Lotus.” Drano then addressed the black skinned D-bee. Most of what he said he didn’t understand, much less what the fuck a Jahwaq Shin was or did. “Ok so you can use magic. Cool. You got  name or should I just come up with something?” The guy was defiantly not from Earth nor was his mount. “Can that whatever it’s called fly? If so you and Lotus can take turns being up in the air.”


Of those assigned to him the borg was the most similar to Drano. No magic, no psionics and a shit load of guns. Probably good at killing CS grunts. “You stick with me. I might need some anti-infantry support, and it might help if I knew what to call you over the radio too.”

---

Once every had their assignments Drano waited for the local guide, who hopefully had these maps Silvermasque was talking about over the radio.

"I am called Dusk.  Sadly, Ketch'channon here", bending forward to pat the demonrunner between its spiked shoulderblades, "ees confined to the grond.  She is quite rapid, but if stealth is required can be left behind."

He nudged his mount forward and leaned in to speak privately to the squad leader.  "Maester Mephisto and I, overlap in significahnt areas.  Perhaps one man of metal plus one of magic would complement?  Anytrail, I go summon now before we get further from the ley."

"SAMAS missiles too." States the big borg, flicking a thumb up over the shoulder opposite the chain-sword. Where the large obstruction is waiting to swing up and over. "Loaded up on fraggers, with a few plasma in the hole." He pats the carrying case behind his hip. "Don't like keepin' 'em tubed 'till I'm damn well good and ready." He shifts his jaw for a moment, the sound of metal squealing as the flat planes of his 'teeth' brush against each other.

"Smoke's good 'nuff. Perkins, if you gotta." He answers to the question about name, clamping back down on the cigar. Air intake whines up to speed, causing the tip to glow. Glowing optics shift aside, towards the rest of the 'troupe', as a rumbling grunt is released.

"Damn mixed corps, eh? No tellin' where they'll be best at." There's a reverberating chuckle, but the metal skull isn't capable of smiling any more than it's capable of blinking.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:45, Wed 25 Apr 2012.