Everything

[Captain Zara Drecker]

Everything

<font color=red>
Find me here
And speak to me
I want to feel you
I need to hear you
You are the light
That is leading me
To the place
Where I find peace
Again

You are the strength
That keeps me walking
You are the hope
That keeps me trusting
You are the light
To my soul
You are my purpose
Your Everything

And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this

You calm the storms
And you give me rest
You hold me in your hands
You won’t let me fall
You still my heart
And you take my breath away
Would you take me in
Take me deeper now

And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this

And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this

Cause you all I want
Your all I need
Your Everything, Everything

Your all I want
Your all I need
Your Everything, Everything

Your all I want
Your all I need
Your Everything, Everything

Your all I want
Your all I need
Everything, Everything

And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this

And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better, any better than this

And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this

Would you tell me, how could it be
Any better than this…..
</font>


For many of us, there will never be times of life and death, where snap decisions can change the course of our lives. But for others, they face them all the time. Sometimes the drop of a coin, the turn of a head is all it takes. Some men and women crumple, while other stand taller than could ever be imagined. But until we are put to the test in ways we cant imagine, we will never know what we are.

--

Captain Zara Drecker looked herself in the mirror. A woman who had a what would be politely called a hard face stared back, deep brown eyes and short military cut hair. A nose that had been broken years ago when she had been part of a raid on a smuggler vessel, mouth thin and taunt. Not a trace of makeup hid the lines of her face, no jewellery except for a singe sabre tooth earring, a marker of her family. Sh was dressed in the midnight black of the New Republic Special Forces, tunic, pants, boots, belt. There was one of the NRSF rail guns holstered on her hip, the other side had a utility pouch. On one shoulder was a rank patch, the other had a operational unit, complete with a number and the image of a snarling beast she had been told was a panther. It looked like a magnified version of Tohmahawk’s cat, all teeth and claws and was the ‘mascot’ of the Command Unit of the Special Forces. Only those who Tohmahawk considered leaders got to wear one, or as Drecker put it, the baddest of the bad assed. As she discovered, even that Gungan had some real attitude and the Ewoks…. Were almost beyond description. Tohmahawk had gathered together some of the most hard edged beings she had ever met, people much like himself. The NRSF was beginning to get the reputation of a fighting force – granted they were small so far – of outright hostility, never back down, in your face, savage and just plain merciless that hadn’t been seen in with a group in either the Old or New Republic. Arcan IV, which was becoming their new home planet, then the spectacular capture of a incursion fleet at Yavin was sealing their reputation. A group that made no excuses for it’s eliteism, a group that disregarded just about every rule if they had to. Even now, she had heard that the Senate was nervous of them.

With good reason. The NRSF was accountable to one person only, the Chief of State. Tohmahawk had been clever enough, when the NRSF was born, to make sure the political had no hold or sway over it. It had even them the range of movement like no other New Republic force. The Inner Council itself watched what they thought was a bitter mouthed tyrant building a power base for himself were bare assured with the words the Chief of State gave to his good intentions.

If they knew the truth of Tohmahawk, they would be a good deal more fearful. She herself had only been told two days ago and still she got a chill. Who could have known?

Tohmahawk, a man of quick temper, a fighter, a warrior, would be in fact a Jedi of not inconsiderable skill. And if what she had been told was even half true, maybe the most powerful living. But in hindsight, it explained the man’s compassion, his unexpected gentleness, and his thirst for justice.

She respected the man James Tohmahawk she knew. It was the Jedi Master Marcus Q’Dunn that scared her. Scared her a lot, because he was a complete unknown. Drecker always distained the Jedi as they were so up themselves about peace. Here though… here was one who knew war. Who fought. Who, without apology, carried guns and defied the Jedi Council.

Well, she was due to meet Tohmahawk / Q’Dunn in the ward room in five minutes. She glanced once more at herself in the mirror, placed her uniform cap on her head, then marched out to catch a turbolift to the bridge level.



OOC: This runs from the events of Sick Cycle Carosel. This is open but please contact Lady De’ville or Darth Turbogeek first before joining and also view the song over, becuase it becomes important somewhere down the line

[Sergeant Tyle]

Sergeant Nemor Tyle squinted the Arcan IV sunlight out of his eyes, as he adjusted the brim of his hat downwards on his head, making sure he could look every single one of them squarely in the eye. Short and tall, built and thin. They were already soldiers. However, they now sought entry into the hallowed few...the NRSF.

Tyle had seen over thirty campaigns of active service in the envoy of the New Republic, fought more enemies than he had brain cells to remember, and was one of the most weathered combat veterans this side of the galaxy. He was given the esteemed honor to train the few and the proud, and took his job very seriously. He worshipped the addage "The more you sweat in peacetime, the less you bleed in war." He had seen the disasters of complacency, and the pursuit of victory kept him alert and ready at all times.

The Drill Instructor stepped up and down the ranks of soldiers arranged on the Capital building's quad. There were 124 applicants from over two dozen NR infantry divisions. Most were officers, and were ready to become something more...

...or so they thought at the moment.

Tyle set his face in rock, as he stepped down the quad slowly, his combat boots knocking on the concrete with a hollow clack.

YOU ARE ALL HERE...BECAUSE YOU HAVE DRIVE! YOU WISH TO EXCEL, AND TO SERVE YOUR NATION TO THE FULLEST OF YOUR POTENTIAL, AND RISE TO THE LEVEL OF A SUPERIOR SOLDIER!

EACH OF YOU HAVE PRIOR SERVICE IN THE NEW REPUBLIC INFANTRY, ALL WITH ACCOLADES! CORPORALS, SERGEANTS, LIEUTENANTS...EVEN CAPTAINS!

YOU ARE THE BEST THE NEW REPUBLIC INFANTRY FORCES HAS TO OFFER!!

Tyle spun on a heel, his boots clicking together as he stared daggers at the men assembled before him.

BUT SPECIAL FORCES DEMANDS MORE THAN ANY OF YOU HAVE!!! EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY....YOU ARE ONCE AGAIN THE SCUM OF THE UNIVERSE!! YOU ARE PUKES!! YOU ARE MAGGOTS!! YOU ARE GRABASTIC PILES OF STEAMING GUNGAN POODOO!!

...YOU ARE PRIVATES!!! STRIPPED OF WHATEVER PRIOR RANK OUR GOOD NATION HAS BESTOWED UPON YOU!! WHATEVER YOU HAVE SEEN, WHATEVER YOU HAVE DONE BEFORE YOU...IS SCRAGG IN MY EYES!! YOU ARE AN INFECTIOUS ASSORTMENT OF RANCID FECES CARVED INTO THE VAGUE SHAPE OF HUMANOID FRELLING BEINGS!!

FOR THE NEXT FOUR MONTHS, I WILL PERSONALLY MAKE IT MY OBLIGATION TO KICK YOUR WORTHLESS ASSES!! YOU THINK WE NEED YOU???!!! YOU SLOPE-HEADED NEANDERTHALS AREN'T EVEN SUITABLE FOR BAYONET FODDER!! YOU WILL BLEED, YOU WILL BREAK, YOU WILL CRY...MANY OF YOU WILL CRY FOR MOMMA!!

GO AHEAD!!!!! I KNOW YOU WILL!!!

I AM YOUR MOMMA NOW!!! AND FOR THE NEXT QUARTER OF A YEAR, YOU WILL SUCKLE BATTERY ACID FROM MY TITS AND I WILL SPANK YOUR ASS WITH RAZOR BLADES!!

DOOO YOOOUUU GET ME????!!!!!

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya jumped down from the Chevette's boarding ramp before it had fully extended, ducking around a blast of steam from the vents, and hefting her bag over her shoulders. Looking around the underground hangar at the Castle of Bast, she noticed that one of the ships was missing from when she had been there last.

She made her way through the dark corridors to her small room. She was considered a project of Darth Turbogeek's by the other residents here on Vjun, and they largely left her alone. Arya had no doubt that she was watched every second of every day of her time on the planet. Jeseth Cloak, the Dark Jedi who had allowed his apprentice, Turbogeek, to pick her up, had pressed her into service. She was teaching Turbogeek how to fight hand to hand combat, as the clone could barely find his shoes to tie them by himself. Jeseth was often busy and off planet, and when he wasn't teaching Turbogeek himself, Arya found that the apprentice had many questions for her.

Not the least of which had to do with whipped cream and brothels. She rolled her eyes, and tossed her black duffel bag onto her bed. There was a slight scuffle in the room next door, and she opened the door between the two rooms. The way the rooms were set up, she was located in the small servant quarters off of the main suite, which Turbogeek occupied.

Arya poked her head around the door, and saw Turb sitting on the edge of his bed, scuffling his feet on the ground. Frell, looks depressed. She edged back out of the doorway, but he looked up at her.

"Arya? You're back?" He sounded depressed too.

She stepped into his room and nodded. "Yeah, just got in a few minutes ago. Should have heard the Wing of the Raven landing."

He shrugged. "The castle is so big." Arya was trying to get out of having to ask him what was wrong, but he abruptly changed subjects. "Gem is gone now. When you dropped me off... I didn't get to say goodbye."

Arya sighed and sat down beside him on the edge of the bed. The small girl had been a distraction for them both before Arcan IV, full of life and yet so quiet. Living here would do that to you. "I'm sure she'll be back soon. I wouldn't get too worked up over it, okay?" She socked him in the shoulder. "Be tough! Remember Arcan IV?"

He sighed, and then perked up. "Yes. Are you going to answer my question then?"

"Erm...not yet. I still have to think about it." Arya looked around. "To tell the truth, I'm not here for long. I have to settle a debt with my former employer. Before you picked me up, I had dropped a load of spice meant for his pocketbook. Frelling businessmen scum... Anyway, if I don't pay him off, I won't be safe even here on Vjun."

He thought about that for a minute. "Was he the one who threw you out the window?"

Arya opened her mouth, and then closed it. "No. I have other enemies as well." Although now I don't know who is my enemy anymore. She had just flown in from Yavin, after getting her shields refitted due to an unfortunate accident caused after she had just bought an updated shielding system with part of her credits earned from Hunter.

In her bag was a new piece of equipment she had brought back from the bar she had stopped in while waiting for the refit to be completed. Brand new and shiny black, a military issue rail gun, a newer model than the ones that Hunter himself wore, lay wrapped up in her clothing.

"So you're leaving again then?" He sounded forlorn.

"Yep. Frelling trade conference going on on Trogan in a week. My debt collector will be there. He has some legit business that covers for his spice operation." After all, trade consisted of many levels. The smuggling and the slaving was only a dirty underlayer that people didn't see. They would be there, along with the trade giants: The Cizerack Pride, the New Republic, the Bothawui, and Malastre to name a few.

She sighed, laying back on his bed, and closing her eyes. She was tired. Turb poked her. "Well, looks like Jeseth is going to be giving me more lessons while you're gone anyway. So, wanna talk about whipped cream?"

Arya peeked through her dark lashes at him. "Okay. But I'm sleepy. What did you want to know?"

In all honesty, she didn't think Trogan knew what was going to hit them. Trade conferences were always rife with incidents. And the Cizeracks didn't use whipped cream.

[Captain Zara Drecker]

Drecker’s lift stopped at the level that housed the command room that Tohmahawk used. As she got out, she noticed the level of activity was more than usual – understandable as Defender needed al lot of work to bring back into true working order after the Ion Tube misfire. It was also ran so much experimental technology that it’s unreliability was understandable too. It was, she reflected, a bloody wonder the damn thing ran at all. Who was the maniac that supported the construction of this monster?

But she was it’s Captain. Honestly, the man who put her in that position was even madder. What she had seen of him however, sanity was one of his strong points and knew exactly what he was doing.

She nodded as some crewers saluted as she walked past. Tohmahawk’s office wasn’t far from the lifts and it didn’t take long to get there. She got to the plain steel doors, pressed the silver alert button. A small chime could be heard, followed by a snarling, growling voice a second later.

“Yes?” it snapped

“Captain Drecker Sir, you wanted to see me?”

The doors opened slowly, allowing her to enter. She stepped through into the ante room, where there was a guard post. She handed her id over as the doors closed behind her. Three men, at least one she suspected was a Jedi. They didn’t say anything as her id was checked, but they did salute when it came through as clear. Even for one of his confidants, security was tight. Drecker had seen some of the standalone systems the NRSF was now running, with it’s own levels of computers and communications. The fact was, they could exist outside of the Republic and if the operation of Hworwang came off, they would be supply self sufficient, food wise.

How Tohmahawk had achieved this level of setup, right under the galaxy’s nose, was mind boggling. And the amazing thing was, only a handful really knew. The Inner Council didn’t. The NR military didn’t, despite the fact the NRSF was skimming off the best there was. The Jedi Council didn’t know even – and there were rumoured to be Jedi joining the NRSF ranks. The audacity was getting more and more astounding with each passing day.

Her musings were broken by the doors in front of her opening. She nodded to the guards, before entering the room ahead.

It was fairly large, with spot globes along the wall. The walls were clad in redwood panelling, there was a few plants. On one wall was a command display, right now switched off. In the centre of the room was a beautifully built 30 seat conference table, with central holoprojector and individual terminals. At the back of the room, there was another desk, steel and wood, huge. There was two chairs on one side, and a single one with back to the wall. Behind that was a hung picture of a pod racer, Under was a mounted sword. And seated in the chair was Tohmahawk, at this point head down, tapping on a datapad.

“… so your saying that what we got from Ithor will be adequate?”

“Yes General, it will” said one of the two beings facing the General across his desk”

“Good. Dismissed” His voice had it’s usual tone of barely contained anger when talking to anyone. Scorpion had described Tohmahawk as a despot and she was somewhat forced to agree. Publically anyway. His eyes were covered with the eyeshades he habitually wore and she was convinced if these data pushers could be killed with his stare they would. He continued to look in their direction until the far doors were sealed, at which point Tohmahawk took off his shades, stood up and with a very broad smile, welcomed drecker

“Zara! How are you today?”

The speed which the public tyrant turned to private, friendly and caring man was amazing. She still struggled to come to grips with it. “Very well General…”

“Please. Outside, that is well to call me that. In here, it’s Marcus to you. Please, take a seat”

She did so, feeling highly uncomfortable. She was acutely aware that the Jedi Master could strip her mind clean of all secrets and there was not a thing she could do about it.

His gaze, which was now calculating was somewhat more frightening than the hostile one he would normally have. It meant he was probing with his Jedi powers, or so she thought. No wonder the Jedi had this aura of ethereal beings, to sit face to face with one was something she was not comfortable with in the slightest. It very much was like having God grant you an audience. Even in this day and age, she believed there was a God. The big question was, where did these Jedi fit in with those beliefs?

“Tea Zara?”

She broke of her thoughts “Ahh… yes? Although, wouldn’t you know if I did or didn’t anyway?” Ahhh @#%$. She wished she didn’t say that now, when she saw the rather hurt look on his face.

“Zara, I wouldn’t do that to you. I have no worries about picking the mind of an enemy – or indeed one of those” She didn’t understand the word he next used “….that sit in the Senate. I draw the line at allies and NRSF staff. Fact is, I haven’t done anything like that for 2 years” He got up, with some difficulty she noted. The leg that got stabbed mustn’t be healing as well as it could have – “and I’m not going to start now”

“Permission to be honest Sir?”

“Sure, go ahead” he said, fiddling with the dispenser

“I’ld rather have not been told you’re a Jedi James. It’s not something I feel comfortable with” She deliberately said the name she knew him as – the General.

He didn’t reply until he placed as silver cup in front of her and sat down again. “I’m not very comfortable with it either”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll be candid with you. Being a Jedi isn’t mind tricks and other bantha poodoo. It’s a difficult and torturous path and one that’s caused me a great deal of personal loss. If you gave me the choice between Q’Dunn and Tohmahawk, I’ll take Major General Marcus Q’Dunn anyday. No Jedi, just pure military. But I cant do that, so….. “ He shrugged.

“You stay Tohmahawk. At least in public. Yes?”

“Yes. But for those I trust, I’m whom I really am. That list stretches to exactly 10 beings. Not even the Jedi Council in full knows and I’ll be damned if I’ll tell them. I’ll be Tohmahawk until there is no more choices left and then I’ll be Q’Dunn”

“What if someone untrustworthy finds out? What then?”

“Ha. Who’ll believe it?”

He had a point. She had problems believing it and it had been laid before her. “One more question. When did you replace Tohmahawk and why?”

“James was one of my friends Zara. He died saving my life, before I became Jedi. On that mission, I took his ID to take revenge on his killers. Afterwards, I sliced the records slightly so Tohmahawk became me. He was a good man, I hoped I’ve done him justice”

“You know what type of court-martial you would get if the brass found out?”

“Find out what? The records show that Tohmahawk is me. I’ve been through, there’s not a trace of evidence left. No one but I saw James die and I was his only friend. He was an Intelligence officer, an undercover one. Because of security, records were sparse to begin with. He died because we got sold out to the Imperials. A sniper got him.” She saw him sigh. “He was a brother to me”

Interesting. She didn’t quite know what to make of this however. “Well….”

“However it happened, as far as anyone is concerned, I’m Tohmahawk. Just because I was born Marcus Q’Dunn means little. It’s not what your title is, it’s your actions that define you. And I believe I earned what I am”

That you have, Drecker granted mentally

[Pierce Tondry]

' Many think the Tattooine Krayt Dragon is a dangerous hunt, but I fear the poisonous Sand Scorpions of the planet hella more. You get more fame when you kill a Krayt Dragon, but Scorpion hunting gets you more money.'
-- an unnamed Tattooine poacher

In the cargo bay of Intelligence's captured Star Destroyer, Pierce Tondry oversaw loading operations with his personal unit, Tau Team.

He held a datapad in his hands, and he ticked off a list of things that had been done. The list was not limited to cargo supplies, but of finished tasks. Another mission was in the works, but it could not be started until the final tasks from Operation Mudcrawler were done.

Which they seemed mostly to be. Final Mudcrawler debriefings had finished three days ago, and Pierce's final report had been submitted yesterday. All that was left was for Ysanne Isard herself to close and classify the related files.

Pierce's newest concern was actually a good one. Delta Division training camps had provided a new batch of inductees, so in addition to the experienced lot of shooters he'd been working with before, he now had the start of the next generation SpecOps warrior. What they lacked was battle experience, and he'd proposed an infiltration mission to two of Tau Team's members as training.

So far, one of them was disagreeing in every sense of the word. "It's nice to have good personnel," he murmured.

"Do we really have to babysit the greenies?"

"They're fully qualified in everything, Nick," Pierce replied, not looking up. His fingers ticked another item off the list. "From HAHO jumps to basic underwater demolitions to improvising explosives."

"You know training quals ain't gonna cut it," Nick Weimar, also known as Hemline of Tau Team, groaned. "They gotta want battle experience."

Pierce's eyes looked over the datapad's edge, seeking Weimar's concerned face. "This latest batch did their qualifications in record time. They want it bad."

"Don't worry about it, Hemline," Lucious "Magic Fingers" Vadgrin put in. "Our mission isn't going to be all that bad. I was green once."

"Yeah, and I remember making a mess out of you everytime I talked about women."

Vadgrin's expression flushed slightly, but stayed the same. "Ain't no thing but a chicken wing," he rattled the phrase off easily. "You don't see me being shy in the sack now, do you?"

"I don't see you in the sack, period," Weimar grunted.

"Ladies," Pierce broke in. "Whatever the two of you like to do together at night, you're on my time now. Get your bedsheets untied or I'll be giving your ass a smack."

Weimar burst out laughing and Vadgrin's face reddened an extra shade. "I love it when you talk dirty to me, boss," Hemline clapped Pierce on the shoulder. "Alright, Fingers and I'll teach the Winkens, Blinkens, and Nods that they're cannon fodder until they survive an actual op."

"Good," Pierce added, adding a tick to his list and setting it on a nearby cargo box. "Because I'll be doing the same thing."

This caught Weimar off guard. "Meaning?"

Pierce gazed at the cargo being loaded. "Meaning we have a newly refitted VicStar III. I think I can do a few things with it and train the greenies at the same time."

"That's what I like about you, boss," Weimar gave Pierce another slap on the back. "Always leading from the front."

Pierce picked his datapad up with a gloved hand and buried his face in his list again. "Your op's on Trogan," he said. "And your unit arrives at 0700. Get moving."

[General Tohmahawk]

“Well anyway…. I didn’t bring you up here to boast or wank on. We have a go from Ackbar”

He saw her face twist with surprise “They did? But they surely didn’t agree to your terms…”

“Every word Zara. The Inner Council wanted a full invasion. Ackbar and Madine agreed that would be stupid with that Titan Star Destroyer in orbit at Chad III. We simply don’t have the fire power to deal with that thing yet. Dodonna has a plan to deal with the Titan soon enough, but it’s not ready. Thence, the Republic is going to stir the pot and begin the set up. We’re the best equipped for what is planned”

“And what’s that Sir?”

Tohmahawk got up and crossed to the flat screen. He punched a few codes and a planetary system came up. “Kashyyyk. Home of the Wookiees, presently occupied by The Sith Order. Not hugely defended, but still a difficult task for conventional forces. Occupation will be made difficult by the Cyber Wookiees the TSO had engineered as their slaves. A good number of free Wookiees exist and they are prepared to help, according to Intelligence gathered by Jedi Knight Akabbrim. We arrive with the NRSF / Herensa fleet, backstopped by the Arcan IV fleet and the 3rd Fleet. We have 250 ships at our disposal and Crix Madine. It’s a 5 hour hit n fade. I will be leading the ground attack, which will hit as much as possible and get out. Then we will run like mynocks with our tails on fire. Now, Defender will arrive first, bring it shields up and plow it’s way through any minefields…”

“Ack. I don’t like the sounds of that Sir”

“Well, they wont be expecting the fact you have a planetary shield at your disposal, yes? Mines wont be affecting Defender. Just fly straight in and use the shields to push them clear. Any explode will do nothing, not against a shield that can withstand a entire fleet. Argus will follow. Now…. There is shield generators here… and here. Normally they would present a problem for a fleet, but we will be circumventing that, thanks to your idea. Argus will then go rearguard, allowing Defender and the rest of the fleet to duel with the ground weapons. With no shield cover, they wont last long. The rest of the expedition will then disembark for a full ground assault – we will be using modified…. “ He looked at a note he had “Spew boxes that the Cizerack are lending us. Drop ships that will get to the surface fast. We hit the ground and then rip in. Three hours later, we get out and bolt for it, leaving as little identification as we can and damaging their ability to transmit and record at the same time. As far as TSO will know, nothing happened until we are well and truly gone. The NR of course will deny any involvement and as we are basically unknown, it might even be believeable.”

“So, the NRSF is doing the Republic’s dirty work” sighed Drecker

“Yeah, you can put it like that. Fun, eh? We get to try out more of our new toys too. And that nasty little surprise we will be leaving behind”

Drecker winced. “I don’t like the idea of that Sir”

“Noted. I don’t really either, except that it is supposed to be strictly used against a fleet. I don’t like the idea of it being used anywhere a civilian population. We may be fighters, but we don’t kill or harm innocents, ever. The fact is, I believe this could be a dangerous escalation of hostilies and I would be against it, except for the fact TSO is a ripe target and our own strength is growing in secret, beyond anything anyone realises. I agree with Dodonna that we are nearly ready to push TSO out of the Outer Rim by ourselves, let alone what the Republic now has. The Council has pressured the Chief of State for action, now they are going to get something beyond what they ever expected”

[Jyanis Scorpion]

"I am General Jyanis Quias Iquis'corp'ioninj. You will refer me as either 'General' or 'handsome blue man'."

He kept his face serious as he spoke to the men and women lined up before him. Roughly ninety of them. They had already passed their special forces training and had to complete standard testings annually in order to keep their positions.

"In my eyes you suck ticks off a bantha's back. Hell if I know why I'm here. I suppose it's logical to think I just might be able to get you to use the damn equipment properly."

Scorpion smirked at the group, "But we'll have to see."

The large alien strolled casually off to the side, clad in a black New Republic general's uniform. As he reached the edge he spun around on his heels to face the set of targets, durasteel plates surrounded by sensor grid emplacements.

"READY ARMS!"

The first thirty soldiers lifted their railguns up from their hips. Each was given a single training clip of ten rounds, the ammunition encoded with the troopers name, rank, and serial number. When each round passed through the sensor grid it was recorded on the computer and the soldier was given points for accuracy.

"TAKE AIM!"

The troopers raised their railguns to shoulder height and pinned them back firmly, curling their fingers around the triggers.

"FIRE!"

A slew of bullets filled the air and numbers began listing across the computer viewscreen beside each of the thirty troopers.

The last shell clinked across the permacrete and the soldiers holstered their weapons.

"Step aside maggots! Next group get up here! I don't have all day!"

[Captain Tyle]

Tyle continued to pace around the group of soldiers, coming to a stop at a man in wire-frame glasses.

WHAT'S YOUR NAME, PRIVATE???

Soldier: S-s-s...

ARE YOU SURE, SCUMBAG???!!! YOU DON'T SOUND TERRIBLY ASSURED OF YOURSELF, DO YOU???!!! NO...YOU'RE NAME IS PRIVATE PORKY!!! BA-DEE-BA-DEE-BA-DEE-THAT'S AAALL, YOU PUKE!!! YOU'RE ON PT EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!!! TWENTY LAPS AROUND THE STOCKADE!!! MAYBE YOU CAN REMEMBER YOUR NAME AFTER THAT!!!

Tyle chased after the man until he started running. He kept hawk eyes on the soldier until he rounded the corner of the quad and couldn't be seen again. His eyes turned to another soldier who had a mustache.

PRIVATE...WHAT IS THIS???!!!

Tyle grabbed the man by the mustache, yanking down and causing him to wince.

Soldier: AAGH!! Sir..its my mustache, sir!

THAT IS A NEGATIVE, PRIVATE!!! BECAUSE I DISTINCTLY REMEMBER NRSF POLICY ON FACIAL HAIR!! SO...IT COULDN'T BE A MUSTACHE, COULD IT???!!! NO!! THERE MUST BE A MORE...RATIONAL EXPLANATION!! YOU'VE BEEN UNFING A WOOKIEE, HAVEN'T YOU???!!!

Soldier: Sir..I...

THAT IS NEITHER AN AFFIRMATIVE NOR A NEGATIVE!! I'D LIKE TO THINK, FOR YOUR SAKE, THAT YOU'VE BEEN SHAGGING CARPET!! I HOPE YOU'RE NOT TRYING TO TELL ME THATS NOT TRUE!!

Soldier: Sir...I...

SAY IT!!!

Soldier: Sir, I had sex with a Wookiee, Sir!!

I MAY HAVE BEEN BORN AT NIGHT, BUT NOT LAST NIGHT, PRIVATE FUZZY!!

Soldier: Sir, she was good, sir! She nibbled my ear, sir!

Laughter started to grow, but was quickly extinguished by Tyle's fiery gaze. He turned back to the soldier.

DID YOU GET FLEAS, PRIVATE FUZZY???!!!

Soldier: Sir, no sir!

YOU'RE GONNA WISH YOU HAD EM, YOU PUKE!!! I'M GONNA DIG IN YOUR GIRLY ASS DEEPER THAN A DAGOBAH TICK IF YOU DON'T SHAPE UP, FUZZY!! RUN TO THE BARRACKS!! PROCURE A RAZOR!! REMOVE THOSE PUBIC HAIRS FROM YOUR UPPER LIP!! WHEN YOU FINISH, I WANT YOU TO RUN WITH PRIVATE PORKY, AND I WANT YOU TO LAP HIS STUTTERING ASS!! YOU ARE LUCKY IT WASN'T A MUSTACHE, PRIVATE FUZZY...ELSE I WOULD TEAR THOSE MONKEY-KISSIN LIPS OFF YOUR FACE AND CRAM EM DOWN YOUR BRITCHES, SO YOU COULD KISS YOUR SORRY ASS GOODBYE!!

NOW MOOOOVE!!!!

Tyle chased the soldier halfway to the barracks before turning back, and regrouping with the rest of his recruits.

THE REST OF YOU PUKES, PROCURE YOUR RIFLES FROM THE ARMORY, AND REPORT TO THE FIRING RANGE AT 1300 HOURS!! YOU HAVE SEVEN MINUTES!! MOVE OUT!!

[Zara Drecker]

“Noted. I don’t really either, except that it is supposed to be strictly used against a fleet. I don’t like the idea of it being used anywhere a civilian population. We may be fighters, but we don’t kill or harm innocents, ever. The fact is, I believe this could be a dangerous escalation of hostilies and I would be against it, except for the fact TSO is a ripe target and our own strength is growing in secret, beyond anything anyone realises. I agree with Dodonna that we are nearly ready to push TSO out of the Outer Rim by ourselves, let alone what the Republic now has. The Council has pressured the Chief of State for action, now they are going to get something beyond what they ever expected”

She nodded, listening to Tohmahawk’s words. “Agreed Sir, but the Defender will not be at full operational efficiency, the Ion Tube is going to take about 3 months to repair and we still have a lot of systems that are yet not functioning as they should be. We need more dock time”

“Which is why your going to turn Defender over to a skeleton crew after Kashyyyk and send it back to Base 5 for overhaul. We have a new set of techs augmenting the existing crews there who will be directed to fine tune and repair everything. Your to take command of Argus I, bringing it to Trogan.”

“What about Lord Scorpion sir?”

“Jyanis is going on a few personal errands after Kashyyyk. He informed me last night”

She nodded. “That will be fine. I presume you’re not expecting enough resistance at Kashyyyk to need full repair?”

“No. We only need the primary shield and the Ion Cannon. More tea, Zara?”

She nodded and as he moved to the dispenser again, she began to mull over the battle plans in her head. So far, she hadn’t seen anything that made her concerned, the ideas she had been shown were all valid, well thought out and more to the point, simple. For a man with the past of Tohmahawk, she was expecting some incredibly convoluted scheme and in a way it was a relief to see that what he had approved of was straightforward. In her view, less room for a screw up.

[Arya Ravenwing]

The Wing of the Raven sat in the hanger at Bast Castle, silent except for the curses coming out of it near its landing struts. Several hull panels lay on the permacrete floor, and a hydrospanner fell down and clattered to the ground, accompanied by a string of curses in Twi'leki. Inside the opening underneath the Chevette, Arya straightened, banging her head on the top side of the opening. "Frelling pissant shiiip!"

Her boots poked out from the ship, and she dropped lightly to the ground, rubbing her forehead, and bending down to pick up the hydrospanner. She was attempting to fix a targeting problem with the aft gun, to stop it from firing to the right of its targets. Unfortuntely, whoever had designed the installation of the gun array, had placed its components in a hard to reach place, and it wasn't accesible from the inside of the ship. She wiped her hands on her coveralls, which were dirty, unzipped to the waist and the arms were tied around her hips. Her white tank was also decorated with greasy stains from liquids in the systems.

Arya had gotten used to the targeting problem a long time ago...still, would be nice to get it fixed before Trogan. She stood up from picking up the hydrospanner and knocked her head on the landing strut. "Krasst!" Her mind's eye was dark today. She closed her eyes, bringing her third eye open to the world.

She saw the hanger as it was, and the opening above her in the Chevette. The wires and circuits she had been working with were clear to her, although her problem was still unclear. The smell of electronics assailed her nostrils and she sniffed. Arya opened her eyes, sighed, and clambered back up into the ship.

[Jyanis Scorpion]

"Lock 'n' load!"

Another group was sent to him, and by this time it was getting repetitive. Scorpion was just leaned over to the side, his arm propped up against the makeshift desk made out of crates.

More shells clinked against the pavement, and he just watched the numbers fly up on the screen in boredom.

"Second Lieutenant Wesyly reporting, sir. General?"

"Hold on I'm busy making myself blind."

"Sir, I have a message from General Tohmahawk."

"Alright."

Scorpion turned around to face the junior officer and raised himself to his full height.

"Sir, the general wishes to meet with you aboard the Defender."

The officer stood at attention as Jyanis looked at the permacrete in thought.

"You know anything about guns, Wesyly?"

The young man kind of frowned, "Not really, sir."

The alien man just shrugged and started to walk away, "You're qualified. Just stare."

[DarthHERA]

Hera picked at the deep-fied morsels of "garachi" nestled on a bed of wild rice on the earthenware plate. Finally she was having something better to eat than the frights that passed as viable food from the kitchen of Drones safehouse. An involuntary shudder rocked her as she remembered the meal of the evening before, and she cursed herself for ever agreeing to meet him on Arcan IV.

Almost from the moment she had arrived on the planet, things had gone from bad to worse. From the assualt by the NR forces and toppling of Yvess's government (which effectively drove any surviving criminal elements deep underground) to the past week or was it two?...whichever-it was too damn long.. spent cooped up with the relentlessly verbal Drone waiting for the security at the spaceport to relax enough so they could depart for the established rendevoux with Cozmo. So far, it had been all effort and no payoff.
Hera pushed the plate aside.

"How long until we are within boarding range of the 'Enterra'?"

The droid re-examined the navigator display, "within the hour Mistress. The battleship's co-ordinates remain steady along the route Mr Drone gave us- she is making her path as she instructed."

Atleast this was some good news. She looked over at Drone who was snoring loudly. Even asleep he could never shutup.

"Wake me in 30 minutes, C-80. I'll be in the aft cabin."

She stretched out fully on the bunk, arms behind her head and eyes staring at the bulkhead structure above her. Even with the door closed tightly, she could hear Drone's continual snorts. She thought of the upcoming meeting and what the Head of Commercial Industry in the Gillorr Sector (as his Public Persona was known) could want to hire her for... This better be good Cozmo. This better be very good.

She rolled over and pulled the pillow around her ears and tried to
get a few minutes of uninterupted quiet.

[Jina Jade-Elessar]

The three guards were chatting, when the outer door beeped and then opened. Instantly alert, they watched impassive as a shadow moved across the doors, then followed by…

A cat. A cat that was being cuddled by a small girl, roughly 4 in age, with startlingly bright red hair, dressed simply in a small jumpsuit and with bare feet. Her eyes were deep green, which offset the brilliant hair. A couple of crewers walked past her without looking further or commenting, as if seeing a small girl wandering one of the flagships of the Republic was a common occurrence and even to the point, in a restricted area. She also walked unconcerned into a room that would mean instant death for anyone unauthorised, right up to the three guards, who didn’t even twitch. One of them even waved as she approached the inner door.

“Good morning young lady. Do you have you security pass?”

One of the small hands moved slightly, to reveal she was holding a small square of plastic, up to then hidden by the fur of the purring cat. One of the guards reached down and took the card, ran it through the scanner, then stepped aside as the inner security door opened. The little girl let the cat go, which stretched, before lazily walking into the room. She allowed the guard to put the card in her pocket, before looking up.

“Thank you” she lisped in the high voice of a child, whose palate was still soft. The guard came to attention and gave her a snappy salute, which made her giggle.

“Come on young lady, in yer go” said the second guard.

“Okay. Bye!” She walked through the door which closed behind her. The three guards looked at each other.

“You know, that still weirds me out. How come she has a security clearance that not even the Chief of State has on this ship?”

“Don’t you know? That’s his daughter.”

“Daughter?!? Fires of hell, how the hell did Tohmahawk do that?”

“Standard way I would bet…. No, I know she’s adopted. Why, don’t ask me. I’ld never have believed it either if I hadn’t been told by Tohmahawk face to face”

“Really? Must mean that tough SOB has a soft side somewhere. What’s her name?”

“Jina Jade”

The first guard shrugged. “Never heard of no Jade. Really odd he would do something like that”

“Yeah. Nice to know he isn’t always a caustic ass”

The three laughed as they moved back to their positions

[Pierce Tondry]

"So what the hell is this op, anyway?" Lucious "Magic Fingers" Vadgrin asked Nick "Hemline" Weimar as he and his swim buddy walked away from the cargo bay.

Hemline shrugged wordlessly as the two of them rounded a corner. There was a several second pause as the two of them considered the facts. "Well, it's on Trogan," Magic Fingers began. "Let's see. Lotta

"Economic contracts," Hemline suddenly stated. "Boss would probably have us there to secure money for Intel. Probably also want us to do a bit of stock market influencing, a bit of sabotage/terror work. Boss loves achieving objectives across the board."

"Everyone loves achieving objectives across the board," Fingers stated dryly. "Pierce is just better at it than most."

"You always call him Pierce," Hemline noted.

"You always call him boss."

"True."

Hemline didn't notice the self-consciousness in the shrug his partner made. Instead, he kept thinking. "I really wonder what's gotten into boss lately," Hemline mused aloud. "Have you noticed he's been a bit quieter since Ithor? And always wearing gloves."

Fingers shook his head, but the expression on his face was a mystery. "Pierce says it's because he ran into a gang there he had to go to hand-to-hand with, and he wears gloves so he'll be prepared in case he has to do it again."

"Sound principle," Hemline noted.

"Sound officer."