This thread will be used as slice-of-life plot for Battle Team Devil’s Shroud, with the sub-objective of constructing their base on Aeotheran for May 2016 and the proceeding month(s). Please keep it to a single thread so as not to flood the Discourse.
One month after Operation: Firestorm
Above the jungle
Southeast Continent, Aeotheran
“We couldn’t have gone to the Gilded Archipelago. Nooo, it has to be in the middle of the mother-frackin’ jungle, they said. It’s Devil’s Shroud, not Devil’s Resort, they said.” Qyreia shifted in the pilot seat of the shuttle, her comfort disturbed by her frustration. “The hell is a ‘Myrmidon’ anyway? I’m gonna have a long talk with whoever got this plan started.”
It had been a recent revelation in the aftermath of the incursions against Naga Sadow by the Dominion that there was much consolidation to be done down the ladder of sub-units. Up until this point, Qyreia had largely lived out of the Temple of Sorrow on Sepros, with the occasional trip to the Gilded Archipelago either for business or, even more infrequently, to relax. Now, in order to alleviate the relative homelessness of her Battle Team, the mercenary had dug up the old Myrmidon resettlement project and taken to finishing the work that had been started. What she hadn’t really factored for was the utter isolation from the rest of the planet that the location afforded.
Looking at a map of Aeotheran, Myrmidon was originally posted on eastern edge of the large southeastern continent, nestled deep into the thick jungle and butted up against a small mountain range that ran north to south. The Battle Team Leader had been given full reign in organizing the base of operations, which would inevitably be a full-time task in addition to her normal duties.
Just one more thing to tear her away from more enjoyable pursuits, like her Gray Jedi girlfriend or recently-Knighted Pantoran apprentice. Add city planning to the list of skills on my resumé. They don’t pay me enough for this Sithspit.
The Zeltron’s attitude was particularly agitated because of the timing. Rather than face a deal of downtime after the operations against the Dominion, and the follow-up wargames by the House leadership, she was working on this grandiose task. This despite her complete lack in knowing how to build a city, much less populate it; her blaster was already prepped in the event of copulation jokes.
A break in the jungle on the horizon and a soft beeping from her terminal told Qyreia that she was nearing her destination. She was unsure of what to expect, considering that Myrmidon was supposed to have been built under the “shroud of Aeotheran,” a call-out to the Battle Team’s namesake.
“Probably some backwater that makes Anchorhead on Tattooine look big by comparison,” she grumbled before switching to her communication unit. “Myrmidon Control, this is Qyreia Arronen. Requesting permission to land.” No response followed. “Control tower, you awake there? I need to know I’m not gonna crash into something here.”
Still no response was given, prompting the mercenary’s hand to instinctively grab for her blaster. Quietude meant that someone was probably dead, and the former smuggler was well aware that she was coming into this place alone, without backup, and without many people knowing where she even was. Make a quick pass, see what’s going on, and go from there, she thought as the treetops broke away to reveal the settlement below.
Or, what should have been a settlement.
Nestled into the dirt patch that made up the clearing were an amalgam of structures haphazardly placed, some of which looked like prefabs that hadn’t even left their delivery frames. Where there should have been a starport, only a large swathe of grass stood, the only clue to its use being the array of depressions in the foliage from landing gear and thrusters. A scattering of people came out to watch the shuttle flying above them, but none appeared armed or hostile. Lacking any options other than going back to the Summit, Qyreia landed the ship in the field even as a handful of the locals approached at a light jog.
“Are you the officer we were told was coming?” a human female leading the pack said as the merc came down the ramp from the ship.
“Dunno. I couldn’t even get a traffic controller on the horn, so I didn’t think you had communication with the outside world.”
“We’re settlers, Zeltron, not podunk moisture farmers or chronic revelers.”
The latter comparison made the former Black Guard’s teeth grind and her hands tighten into fists, but the expressions of the others that had accompanied the woman made Qyreia rethink throttling the human outright. “So,” she half-growled, “I was told there was a settlement here. Why’s there just a bunch of half-done pre-fabs set up?”
“Maybe we should take a walk,” the woman said, almost kindly but not without an edge. “It’s not just that they’re half-done.”
Out of curiosity, the Zeltron followed her on a tour of what little there was of Myrmidon. The woman was named Rhess - a middle-aged spacer who had come to Aeotheran to settle down when she heard about Myrmidon, only to see the project fall flat. Rhess was taller than Qyreia by at least a head, rather muscular for a former spacer, and touted a ponytail of thick blonde hair. She was pretty, if a little gruff for the mercenary’s tastes.
What truly caught Qyreia’s attention, however, was the dilapidated state of the place that was supposed to be the Battle Team’s base of operations. Things were just as Rhess had suggested. Not only were a mere handful of building fully up and operating, but many on the fringes of the settlement were being reclaimed by the jungle flora. The population itself had only developed enough of the infrastructure to be self-sustaining: aeroponic farms supplemented small exterior gardens for food, parts were salvaged from the unused materials, and the people otherwise lived very relaxed lives. A utopia by most standards, but not what the Battle Team Leader needed.
“Rhess,” the Zeltron said tiredly after the tour was over, “I don’t really understand what’s been going on 'til now, but come tomorrow, I’m gonna start getting this place sorted. In the meantime: got a bed for me to lay my head on?”
“We do,” the human said, almost as though pleased with herself. Qyreia was escorted to a relatively centrally-located pre-fab home - small, but not as cramped as a ship - in which there were all the basic amenities: bedroom, refresher, a small living room, and a small kitchen. As soon as they parted with a quick “goodnight,” Qyreia flopped onto her bed after only taking off her boots, and quickly fell asleep. This would be a long project; hopefully the rest of the Battle Team was faring better than her.