Dispatch
(#76995165)
Scavenger Company Dispatch Operator
Familiar
Undergrowth Shovelsnout
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Earth.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
29.59 m
Wingspan
19.7 m
Weight
7994.67 kg
Genetics
Clay
Metallic
Metallic
Terracotta
Alloy
Alloy
Beige
Opal
Opal
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Lineage
Biography
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"Dispatch" ScavCo Dispatch Officer |
   
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"Welles, report." Like most dragons, Dispatch liked his job. He wasn't cut out for mercenary work like most of his coworkers, and that was fine with him; hearing about the aftermath of a good job was about as close to the action as he wanted to be. And that was great for him! There were few things he liked more than hearing a good story. So, when Command assigned him to a Jackal going into Nevada of all places, he knew he was in for a good story. If she would bother to respond. Eyes narrowed at his console, he swirled his coffee a few times before huffing, pressing the receiver again to speak. "I know you can hear me. Come on." He'd worked with this one before, thinking about it. Nora Welles. A Raven once, but promoted to Jackal some years back and refusing to lose a bad habit of getting too engrossed in prep work to actually pick up her godsdamned radio. He was about to press again before the dragon on the other end spoke. "Yeah, I heard you," Nora drawled over the line, the rustling of bags and containers filtering through, "nothin' to report Dispatch, transmat was fine. I'm in the pipe already, finishing final prep before infiltration." Finally. He took a moment to glance over the checklist beside him, the last few things he would have to go over before letting the merc loose on her assignment and make his initial report. "Good. Had any time to scout the surroundings?" This was a tricky part for him. He didn't have a clue what she was heading into, had almost nothing to work on. Reaching to lift the checklist on the clipboard, Dispatch scowled at the sheet under it. Hardly a page, and it was every little detail on Nevada he could dredge up on ScavCo's database. What wasn't classified at least. He liked to give the mercs under his purview a lot more to work with if he could help it. "I'm workin' on it. Read over your little brochure during the wait, though." His nose wrinkled indignantly at the jab. "Dossier," the Imperial grumbled over the line over the lip of his coffee mug, glaring harder at the paper. It was barely that, admittedly. "Whatever. Not too much in there that I needed, but I 'preciate the thought." Rolling his eyes, he moved to scan over the document one more time, trailing a claw over it. Nora was right, even if he didn't admit it. Though he did stop his perusal at one interesting paragraph. "I would have thought the...management issues would have changed the situation," he spoke offhandedly, reading the section more thoroughly. This was interesting...and a fairly recent development, all things considered. Nora's last jaunt into Nevada had been some time ago as far as he had been aware. "Nothin' I have to worry about. 'sides, they won't even know I'm here 'til it's too late if it goes well," the click of a cold case punctuated the mercenary's matter-of-fact speech, "management ain't the change I'm worried about anyways." Huh. He blinked, narrowed his eyes a little bit. She sounded like she'd already known, but if that didn't concern her, then... "...then what are you worried about?" "Sun ain't right. Didn't look like that the last time I was here. Don't look like that anywhere else. If I had to guess it means trouble ahead." The sun? What did she mean it didn't look right? Even more questions were welling up in his throat, but he bit them back. No. Not right now. By the sounds of straps and velcro on the other end, Nora was about ready. So instead, Dispatch blew out a sigh and pressed the receiver again. "You know why we gave you this job." "I'm the only dragon you got that's come out of this hellhole alive," her laugh crackled back at him, "and I'm the only one who will. Don't you worry Dispatch. It's just a smash 'n grab, I don't intend on dyin' here. Welles out." "You'd best not. Dispatch out." With that final farewell, the imperial leaned back in his seat with a sigh, cupping his coffee and staring back at the dossier with a narrowed gaze. It felt wrong, almost, to send a mercenary off with so little to go on. But, the more he thought about it, Nora was the one who knew everything in this situation and he was the dragon who was in the dark this time. Dispatch shook his head, taking a sip before turning to his computer and typing away. He'd just have to take her reports and hope the place made some damn sense by the end of it. |
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