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Getting Ready for the Show |
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One year before the Battle of Yavin (34:4:31) on the planet Brentaal (Imperial Garrison base). |
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The sound of boots against the hard durasteel floor fill the air momentarily as the last leg of a trip that has seen travel from Corulus to Brentaal finally ends. Michael Raven, upon being summoned, entered the office of Major Tong, the storm commando officer he had been sent to brief on the prisoner captured by his forces mere hours ago. His uniform crisp, his right hand snapped up in a salute just under the brim of his cap, his body coming to erect attention to the Major. His eyes instantly affixed upon Tong's, the two piercing crystal blue eyes impassive, "Line Captain Michael Raven reporting as ordered, sir." Tong blinked from behind his desk, the scent of burning tobacco raising high into the air, even as his dead eyes tracked up, his scarred face seemingly pulled into a near permanent glare, and his mood souring further by the salute. He did not bother to return it, "So you are. So commence with your briefing." Michael lowered the salute, allowing his arm to come to rest at his side. He suppressed a natural instinct to quirk an eyebrow at the response of the major, opting instead to continue undaunted. "At approximately zero nine-hundred hours local time, a flight of Rebel craft consisting of three X-wing class starfighters was reported assaulting an unescorted transport in the vicinity of Corulag space. The Nebulon-B Tempest was the first vessel on scene, wherein her starfighters were able to destroy one of the X-wing starfighters. The pilot of the X-wing was found free-floating in space; having ejected... Commander Del-Malykk of the Tempest was able to secure the Rebel pilot onboard. Unfortunately the X-wing's flight recorder data was lost; along with any information on its point of origin, but the pilot was secured ... alive," he said in a swift, calculating manner, keeping directly to the point. Tong did not seem like one to skirt an issue. Tong did not blink throughout the briefing, only took a breath of smoke from his cigarollo. He did not need to be told where his unit fell into this situation, "And seeing as how you are standing in my office, I guess that the prisoner has been secured in the holding cells and is awaiting interrogation so that our illustrious fleet can find the rebel base and destroy it. Is that correct, Line Captain?" Michael nodded slightly, a single dip of his head, "That is correct, he was secured before my arrival here. Whatever personal attachments and clothing he had on were also secured and separated from the pilot to assure he did not have any ... unwelcome surprises planned." "I don't suppose he was scanned by a medical technician for suicide devices and such," Tong did not have high hopes for the effectiveness of these people, and it showed. But having an enemy pilot was a step in the right direction. Michael paused for a moment, before nodding again, having had the pilot thoroughly checked before being brought here. "No such devices were discovered. The team onboard the Tempest that processed the rebel were quite ... exacting and complete in their examination of him before securing him in a holding cell. Fortunately there were no problems once the prisoner was secured," he said, still having a mental note in his mind of the reported fervor in which the rebel had resisted at first. "Then I guess you've done your job. I'm sure your missing your purified air, crisp uniforms, and over all boring day. So if you don't mind, I have work to do," Tong's words were curt, almost a growl towards the man. Michael could not help but allow a slight smirk to cross his face. Boring days were nary a cause of concern, when things went right, he allowed Tong to keep busy. He allowed the thought to go a bit more, the subtle smirk remaining for another few moments before his face goes completely impassive again. "Of course, sir," he added, almost as an aside. With a respectful nod, seeing as how the salute was obviously a bit ... much, he turned and walks toward the exit to Tong's office. Upon exiting and walking off, he could not help but allow the grin to return to his face. |
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