To stave off the lack of content for this story until I start the next chapter for it, here's content for this story.

A quick omake detailing a few someones we briefly mentioned on the last chapter… Plus two extra folks.

One of which I think y'all will like. c:

Let's go.

~O~

IN ORBIT AROUND CORUSCANT - MCS HERCULES

The halls of the Hercules were always surprisingly quiet when the ship was not in-combat or headed to a combat zone. After all, while noise was a natural byproduct of work being undertaken, the battlecruiser's recent post-battle check-up and repair had guaranteed that only superficial maintenance would be needed, guaranteeing a level of peace and tranquility aboard the vessel. And it was amidst this tranquility that Azrael Durandal calmly made his way through the corridors of his warship.

As expected, the senators had requested an interview with the Militia command, ostensibly to better know and learn about their new extra-galactic visitors, though the Captains' Council had been quick to agree it was instead most likely both a political maneuver and an attempt to gauge their capabilities, but in the end they would have to play by the book and attend this interview to keep their public relations as positive as possible. Hence why Azrael had been chosen to perform said duty.

But that was to occur only a week from now, plenty of time for the Republic members to prepare their questions, and just as much time for Azrael to ready his repertoire.

Besides… He had other affairs to take care of right now. More pressing matters, which Elyse had requested he solve as soon as possible.

And so Azrael went, calmly walking through the halls of his warship until finally he came upon his destination: a metal door fitting for a nuclear bunker, guarded by four Stalkers and two heavy turrets, and who all focused their attention onto the arriving captain, before quickly returning to face the hallway once his identity was confirmed. However, as Azrael expected, the doors remained closed to him, with the response instead being the interphone system coming to life, a calm and collected female voice echoing from the speakers. "You are early, captain."

"Yes, though I am sure that the time you were granted has been more than enough, hasn't it?" asked the captain in return, something that earned him nothing but silence. "Nevertheless, the how are your fellow escapees?"

"Stable and awake. I have just finished running the last necessary tests upon them, as per your request. They have also shown interest in listening to your offer."

"Good. Now, the door, if you may?"

"Yes, one moment."

And indeed, merely a moment later the doors groaned open, allowing Azrael to step through the archway and into the erstwhile laboratory that had once been one of the ship's brigs. Gone were many of the cells and walls, replaced instead with medical and technical equipment pilfered from both Nibelungen and the research ship that Azrael had intercepted amidst the battle. A large computer and servers had been placed in one of the emptied corners of the room, and inside one of the still-intact cells a modest living space had been set up, composed of a maintenance bench for weapons, rack for said weapons, and a repair station for Simulacrums.

But what truly mattered to Azrael were the six individuals gathered at the furthest point of the room, and while two of them stood outside facing towards the arriving captain, the remaining four sat inside their individual cubicles. And what a collection of individuals it was.

The one furthest to the left was, by all accounts, an absolutely gigantic human male. Their body was overgrown both in muscle and height, and even while sitting he was as tall as all the other present in the room. But that was as much of their physical appearance as it could be seen, for the man was covered head to toe in a suit that seemed to be made of synthetic muscle, armor plating thick enough for a mech soldier, and a gas mask-like helmet fully enclosing their head, with the only facial feature recognizable being the glowing green eyes, that were focused not on the gathered people, but instead on the large, leather-bound black book that Azrael was quick to note was an old Christian Bible. How curious…

Next was the first female of the four experiments, a young woman with eerily metallic skin covered in panel lining, fiber optic-like short white hair, electronic golden eyes and wearing civilian clothing not unlike that of a civilian aircraft pilot, sitting quietly and staring at empty space with her hands upon her laps… Well, two of them. Because if one were to pay close attention to the young woman, they would catch a glimpse of six more arms attached to a protrusion on her back, all neatly folded and unmoving.

The fact she remained as unmoving as a statue, and her expression was an uncanny mask of neutrality and serenity was only one more pointer to her doll-like appearance.

The third person was also a female, the second in fact, and unlike the woman before her was far more plain looking. She looked no older than thirty, with milky-white eyes and black hair tied into a short bun, and dressed with a metallic white suit with a scarf wrapped around her neck, and an almost fully-glass purple helmet resting by her side. Truly, compared to the previous two members of her erstwhile "party", the woman seemed completely normal… Until Azrael caught the faint glimpse of lightning and mist coating her hands whenever she flexed her fingers.

And finally the last rescued experiment, and the third female to close out the group… And certainly the strangest, yet not for the woman itself… But for her companion.

Well, it would be a half-truth to say that. The woman herself still had her own mark of strangeness. After all, human skin did not look like metal muscle weave naturally, yet that is what the woman had on most of her body, or at least on the majority of the skin that was exposed, which was actually quite a lot of it. Curiously enough, rather than a full-body suit like the other experiments, the woman was dressed with a tactical vest, a sports top and pants. As for the woman herself, bar the strange skin, her appearance was shockingly plain: short brown hair, green eyes and a butterfly-like tattoo across the top half of her surprisingly youthful face.

However, she was not the only one occupying the retrofitted cell. Because sitting beside the woman, carrying enough armor plating on it to make it easily mistaken for a mech and eyeing the environment as well as a trained spotter, was the largest Prowler Azrael had ever seen in his life, with black leathery hide and dark-blue markings instead of the species' more common yellow ones. That the woman was calmly stroking its mane plates only added to the curiousness of the situation.

And of course, standing amidst them all were two others Azrael knew very well. One was one of the Pilots that had served the longest aboard his ship, and a very much well-known character on the 5th Fleet: Samuel Scirocco, the Militia's "Violent Whirlwind". The other was another rescuee from Nibelungen… One that the Militia had placed a substantial bounty onto, and yet had been allowed aboard the Hercules by Azrael himself.

"Ah, the head chief himself is here," called out Samuel with a smile, giving a mock salute to his commanding officer before nodding towards the four rescued experiments. "Heads up, fellas, our boss has joined us."

"Indeed he has," replied the armored man in a heavy southern drawl as he set down his Bible and rose to his full height, taking a few steps closer to the energy shield door to his cell-room. "Our hosts have already told us of your offer, and while I am inclined to accept it… Well, I ain't the only one that was taken from that little hole in the ground back on Nibelungen."

"What he's saying is, why should we trust you to treat us better than the IMC," quickly interjected the girl in the white armor. "We've been stuck in this hold for days, and now you come asking for us to go back to fighting the IMC just like that?"

Hearing those words, Azrael couldn't help but chuckle, something that earned a narrowed gaze from the woman and a slight crackle of lightning from her hands, but that he was quick to correct with a wave of his hand. "I understand your reluctance, miss, and I am here to assuage your concerns regarding your situations. But of course, before I begin, I would very much like to know your names."

"We don't have names," spoke up the white-haired woman, her arms unfolding not a moment later and flexing themselves into so many angles. "The IMC took them away when they gave us our gifts, as a price for being reborn better than before… All we have are our titles, the codenames given to our projects."

"Then they shall suffice for now."

"… Very well… Then I will take the epithet of Legion."

With her answer given, Azrael turned back to the armored man, who gave him an amused look from beneath his helmet before giving a shrug. "'Spose there's no harm in it… Lab coats called me Beowulf, so you can call me that."

That only left the last two women, and the first that Azrael turned to was the one in white armor, who kept her glare leveled directly at him, before finally relaxing her posture and anger towards the ex-IMC captain. "… Wraith. They called me Wraith. That's all I know."

Before the last one could answer however, Samuel snapped his fingers toward her while giving a side-glance to his commanding officer. "She won't have words for you, boss. Our new egghead here said the girl's vocal chords were all busted up, so the IMC folks called her Whisper. Most she can manage is hums and what-not."

Unfortunately, said "egg-head" did not seem to take kindly to the nickname given to her, with the simulacrum's response to it being to press her sword against Samuel's throat, who remained completely non-plussed as he stared at the sharpened edge before giving a side-glance towards her. "Too far?"

"That you considered this comment to be even remotely acceptable reveals much about you," droned the simulacrum in a low, deceptively serene tone, before calmly withdrawing the sword and returning her attention to Azrael. "Since you are now here, I will leave to you to lead negotiations."

"I see the commander has authorized your leave, in the end?" asked Azrael with a smile, but the simulacrum did not stop on her step as she paced towards the door, followed not long after by Samuel, who stopped only to pick up his own sheathed sword that had been resting on a wall off to the side.

"Commander Elyse will be performing a tour of the Jedi Temple, and has allowed me to join her, provided of course that I remain under her, and lieutenant Scirocco's watch throughout… And that you authorize my leave, of course."

"A fair set of terms indeed. Very well then, you have my authorization to leave the ship."

"Thank you, captain Durandal."

"The honor is all mine, Ash. I look forward to our partnership."

And with that, she and Samuel were gone, leaving Azrael alone with the four test subjects who continued to stare at the masked man standing across from them. After a short pause, Azrael removed his mask and placed it atop one of the tables nearby, before walking over to each cell and opening them one by one, allowing the four rescuees to step out and approach him.

"Now… What questions have you for me?"

For a while, none of them spoke up. That is, until Legion stepped forth and raised one of her many hands, her expression still just as placid and neutral as it had been from the moment Azrael had walked into the room. "I believe the most pertinent question at this moment, captain… Is where do we find ourselves?"

The smile that came over Azrael's face heralded the next three hours that he remained aboard inside the room. But once he left, it was with a report for Elyse: The Beast Unit had been formed.

Unbeknownst to any, however, the meeting had held one more spectator… And just as quickly as they had arrived, this intruder vanished back into the datastreams of the Hercules, safely hidden away from prying eyes, and biding their time for first contact.

~O~

Oh look, also not Call of Soul content.

It's been… Surprisingly hard to write for it.

Still, in better news? Theater school ended, so now I have a month or so of vacation, so more free time! Yay!

Now, explaining this: I actually planned it to be on the next chapter, but decided to make it an omake/side-chapter so we could focus more on the other ten gazillion Militia characters we have to meet, plus politics.

Also, to the folks on SB, I could use a hand rewriting the ending of the last chapter.

… Now hopefully, HOPEFULLY I can write for Call of Soul. Seriously, I can't be this shit at it…