Wayward Soldiers

[Regulus Starborn]

The padded nerf-leather chair squeaked under Regulus Starbon's weight as he sat down. It wasn't that he was a heavy man. He'd been in a better shape of course, back in the day, but he was lean for his age. It was the chair. Command had decided that senior officers within the Alliance Military should have offices and the Colonel had been lucky enough to be assigned one on Dac. They'd given him a desk, which he barely sat behind, and a computer, which he didn't know how to use. Someone had even taken the time to frame a picture of Wesk company and hang it on his wall. Mercifully, it was behind his desk, where he wouldn't be faced with the constant reminder of his marines ugly mugs on the rare occasion that he had to make use of the damn office.

Today, at least, he was anticipating a short meeting. A new recruit had been recommended for Wesk and as the company, along with the rest of the 1st Regiment SpaceOps, were under Starborn's command, he had the final yay or nay on any additions. And so, he sat behind the desk that was his but whose drawers he had never open, wearing a dress uniform that had been starched one too many times, and waited.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville walked down the hall towards Colonel Starborn's office, wearing a non-descript Alliance uniform with no rank pips or insignia. While she'd been on a few missions, no one seemed to know exactly where she would fit best. Working with Intel had been interesting, and a mission with SpecForce had also been successful. Still, while she was able to participate (and more than willing), she had not done much, as of late.

And now Starborn wanted to talk to her.

Lilaena rapped her knuckles lightly on the door frame, and poked her head inside. "Lilaena De'Ville to see you as requested, Colonel."

[Regulus Starborn]

The Colonel – unable to shake the tradition that it was good and proper to stand when a lady entered the room, even if said lady was in fatigues and stretching the definition of the word lady – got to his feet. “De'Ville.” He nodded, and pointed to the chair opposite his own, not waiting for Lilaena to sit before he sank back into his own creaking leather cushion. Small dark eyes peered out at De'Ville from beneath thick dark brows.

“So. You want to join the Forces.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"That is the idea," she said, sitting down carefully. The office looked bare, and had a certain... smell. It smelled unused. This was a man who preferred to be out in the field.

Lilaena did not lean back in the chair, sitting straight with her hands on her knees. "I have worked with the Rebellion before, as a sort of... independent contractor. I want to go full time."

[Regulus Starborn]

Starborn noted her posture: straight-backed, no slouching. Eye contact too. Again, he nodded his silent approval.

“That's all good and well, but the Forces don't take just anybody. Especially not the Fighting Fifth. Tell me about yourself, De'Ville. What's your background?”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Raised from childhood to be a fighting machine, sir, by a crazed Jedi.

"I am well versed in hand-to-hand combat, I've already proved myself on the firing range here in my off time," which has been plentiful, "and I have been trained in several martial arts.

"I've been fighting as best I could for years, sir." Lilaena hesitated, although what she was about to say was pretty much public record - if you could get a hold of the proper documents. "I was responsible for the destruction of a Xucphra Corporation bacta refinery on Thyferra about eight years ago, as well as other 'incidents.'"

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I don't mind getting my hands dirty for the cause. The cause being the ultimate destruction of the Empire."

[Regulus Starborn]

The dossier on De'Ville was slim, not containing much more than the details she'd touched on herself. Like so many newcomers to SpecForce, she had taken the opportunity to discuss her background to share one thing: a history of violence. The men and women of SpecForce didn't just want to dismantle the Empire, they wanted to decimate it. Often, they were runaways from worlds under tyrannical Imperial occupation. De'Ville did have the look of a runaway about her, but ultimately it didn't matter where she had come from. It was where she was going that interested the Colonel.

“Where do you see yourself fitting into the Forces? Urban combat, heavy weapons, infiltration? The marines?” This last option made Starborn crack half a grin. “You've got skill, but what's your speciality?”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Infiltration behind enemy lines and into secure facilities," she replied promptly. She was familiar with heavy weapons, but they weren't really a specialty. "But I am happy to serve the Alliance as you see fit, Colonel, even with a squad of marines."

A smile traced her lips at the thought of what she could do with the backing and intel of the Rebellion and a squad of her own.

[Regulus Starborn]

Though the sentiment behind it was unknown to him, Starborn shared the woman's smile. “Well, we might have a use for you yet. My speciality – when command still let me suit up – was ship-to-ship combat. The finest marines the Alliance has to offer, boarding and overwhelming enemy vessels. Letting nothing stand in our way.”

It was clear from his tone and the way the Colonel's chest rose that he looked back on his time with the 1st Regiment SpaceOps fondly. He sat forward then, forearms resting against his desk as he fixed De'Ville with narrowed eyes.

“It just so happens that we've got need of an extra body for an upcoming assault. The boys in Intel say there's an Imperial recon line travelling too close for comfort near a base of ours, and commands asked me to together a taskforce capable of giving the Imps fright enough to send them running. You in?”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She nodded without hesitation. "Yes sir!"