A Barabel’s instincts told him to hunt, and perhaps, that was why he found himself surrounded by a mass of people he had little interest in, as far as they were concerned anyway. His people were a brave bunch, ones who did not find solace in the bowels of cowardice. Yes, that had to be the reason they rarely speaking Barabel was here. Trained to become a Jedi, he thought that when war approached he would be allowed to bring Honor to his family, to his clan. Yet, when the Mandalorian war began, the Jedi began to take a backstage route - sitting out of a War that was not their own. Secretly, or more perhaps he did not oft speak in Basic, Adinraen loathed the Jedi, and all that they stood for. He would not quit them, for that was not his path. When a place in the Mercy Corps arose, he was eager to join the Ranks, eager to join a war that was not his own. Yes, yes, that was the reason he was here to fight a war that would surely bring his clan a prestige never before matched by another of his race, or surely, he would die in combat trying.
He reflected for a moment and cursed, in his mind, Master Voly for so easily denying the chance to be here, deep down he could not hate the man. The rest, they were getting ready for war, and he could sense it - he could feel the tension rising as it always had before a hunt. He started reminiscence back to a time where, where, he had been the hunter - hunting in the blazing heat of day and returning home before the vicious storms poured. He looked around, and then down towards the planet they would be stealthily entering and engaging. For a moment, Adinraen took time to reflect on his team and the young Padawan he had taken under his wing. He would only speak to the creature in Basic, however, everyone else was treated to body language. Eeth would be coming on his particular objective with him, one that had been codenamed NEXU. According to the people, that mission was one based on a heavily guarded room and disabling a core. Adinraen didn’t much care for the core, but the boys assigned to the objective with him were going to need his muscle to break through the guarded room.
When Adinraen pulled himself from the state of mind he was in, he ushered himself to one of the available pods - it would drop him where he needed to be; on the ground and amidst a long line of people who just yearned to be hunted. In the pod, there were a bunch of lights and fancy technical stuff that he had never cared about. It confused him and luckily he had to rely on a computer to get him safely to the ground. He would never fully trust the thing, for that was not the way, but getting to and from planets required to use of these technological behemoths. Adinraen, himself, was fitted with some gizmo’s that would allow him to communicate with not only his squad, but with the other squads if need be.
Obviously, this was not the final frontier, people had been spanning through this giant ocean of blackness. He didn’t care about the blackness, he cared about what was there for him to hunt down, to kill, to bring his family what they needed. His pod, which he had been told basically was double-layered, rocketed towards the ground at speeds he could not begin to comprehend. At the appropriate place he heard the computer click, and the over layer peel off.
Shit, he did not like this.
He had begun to parasail, something that he wished he would never have to do. What had he signed up for exactly? He landed with a quiet thud, allowing the computer to take its course and land him in the general vicinity of where he was supposed to be. Based off the communication links, he had eyes watching their position from Grif and his fire team, Arrak, there were patrols moving in opposite directions. He stationed himself near Vermeijer, and someone named Pol - there was a Teta spoken of.
“Reinforce or push.”
Said the man he was stationed near. Adinraen threw a physical sign towards Eeth, telling him to stay close - until the right time and then find a place to provide ground level fire until things were clear enough for them to advance. The Zabrak was good at moving fast, and that would be to his benefit, as well as the groups.
Adinraen opened his maw, speaking in his own language, uncaring that he could not be understood. Perhaps he would attempt to teach the boy if he survived. He grabbed his double bladed knives and prepared to move forward with the advance. He was not on point for this one due to his lack of wanting to speak in basic. It didn’t bother him, he was already in ‘hunt’ mode. All he needed was a command, an order, a signal. He spoke again, which would likely translate to “Hurry” if anyone could understand him. He clutched both knives, and titled his head, it was time for him to hunt down every guard.