A Call to Duty: Another Day on the Job

[Deric Rion]

4:47 pm, GST
Ruddles, Balmorra


His comm squawked at him again, the nasal voice of one of Balmorra's regional dispatcher rattling his ears as he turned his radio down. He was making good time, having picked up the call about twenty minutes ago. If he believed in fate, he would have chalked his positioning up to it at this point. He'd just picked up a pretty high profile spice runner outside of Ruddles, named. . .named. . .ah Hell, he couldn't remember. Didn't matter much since they dragged him away in the prisoner's speeder a few hours ago. He'd just gotten out of the city when he got the call, and had whipped his speeder around with no delay. It was a four passenger, compacted TuffLite S series Falcon, with a few police-only modifications made to fit his need. Of course, some of the illega mods were a bit faster. . .few of them had EMPs, though.

"This is Rion. I'm back in Ruddles right now--what were those coordinates again?" In a few seconds, his navicomp recieved a flashing red light and a showed him directions to the mark. Flipping his lights and sirens up, he sped through rush hour traffic on the skyways, whipping past and into the EMV lane. Then it occured to him:

He was going to be late for dinner!

Frell, it was the blonde, too! He'd promised to pick her up by 7 at their usual spot, but it looked as though that wasn't going to be happening. Spit, he needed a vacation. That was the truth. It was about time to talk with his Chief.

"Ok, lay it out for me, Nance." Again, he addressed the dispatcher as he neared about six blocks from the mark.

"Ruddles Guard has three speeders and a copter on scene--twelve men altogether. Intel shows ten warm bodies inside--5 armed with weaponry. We can assume no less that 5 hostages. It's a bank. . .Ruddles Trans Galactic. Chances are, they're there for the gold. Two strike teams are set up on the east and west perimeters, with sniper squads in place. They're preparing--"

"Tell 'em to hold off! I'm taking command, by order of the Guard."

"Affirmative. They aren't gonna be happy."

"Yeah, well, they can tell me about it in about three seconds." Rion clicked the comm off as he slowed his speeder to a stop. Red and blues made the scene a dance club of color as he stepped around to the back of the speeder, popping the small storage compartment. Stripping off his outer black muscle shirt, he strapped on the Fiberplast Shock Vest that he always wore when it was go time. Pulling his shirt back on over the bulky body armor, he strapped his identification badge to his outer belt and threw on his shoulder holdster, which held his heavy blaster pistol, not standard issue. After a few seconds, out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted two bodies moving towards him.

"Excuse me, who are you?" One of the men, a shorter, stubbier man with a shaggy mustache and beard spoke. He wore the badge of a chief.

"Deric Rion, Detective, Balmorran Civil Guard, Bin Prime division. I was told you have a situation here." Deric shot a look his way, lacing up his boots.

"That may be, but we've got this situation under control." The chief was visibly annoyed with his presence.

"That can't be ture, Captain," Deric replied. "Or else you'd have about 5 suspects lined up out here, either dead braced. I don't see any." Finishing his preparation, he shut the storage trunk and turned to face the men. "I was sent here to take care of this unfortunate situation, and I intend to do so, my way. Keep your strike times in position until I say so." He adjusted his ear comm and fitted it inside his right ear. Finally, putting his sunglasses back on, he was ready to move.

"You and the frelling military," the chief threw his hands up and moved back to his post. Military? A quick scan of the scene revealed an unmarked, armored vehicle near the rear of the police baracade. Directly around it stood a small squad of a few stormtroopers, one with his helmet off talking to one of the intelligence officers. Was that. . .? No. . .way. . .

"Jack?" Rion's voiced was a mixture or disbelief and joy. He hadn't seen the man in. . .shoot, 5 years or so? He wasn't for sure. Back when he was part of the security squad of Castle Millard. Jeez, it seemed like that was forever ago. Maybe it wasn't as long ago as he'd thought. "Holy spit, do I know this guy?" His smile took over as he approached the stormtrooper commander.

[TK-632]

"Rion," the stormtrooper nodded, not bothering to shake hands. He was all busy right now...TK-632, not Jack who sat around drinking beer and looking at cute women. Right now there was a hostage situation/bank robbery and it was by terrorists (it made sense to call them 'terrorists') wanted throughout the galaxy.

TK-632 turned back to the men and some women who stood around him. The local cops were trained to handle this, but not as good as his guys were. With Rion here it made things a bit easier...and a bit more testy too.

Rion was known for his abilities to get results but also for his questionable interrogation techniques. It wasn't surprising for a suspect to confess after a visit to the infirmiry for treatment. But he got major results and the stormtrooper knew it was important.

"All right," he took a drink from the water bottle he had next to him, "The man inside is Xil Faradale. As you know he's wanted on more than a few planets in the Empire and other places. He's got a warrant out on Coruscant, which is interesting because we suspect the New Republic might be sponsering his group.

"Obviously if you kill some Imperials you get money, but also a warrant out for your arrest. Here on Balmorra he's wanted for drug trafficking and thievery.

"Faradale has four accomplises with him...Fal Xazor, human. Varmale, a Gran. Klik Mercatile, another human- demolitions specialist. And Karen Elishia, a female Twi'lek, raised by humans."

And image of each appeared before all of the law enforcement there. The Imperial then indicated a map laying on the metal table infront of them, "We have two ways of going in...the frontal assault and we can sneak in. I'm willing to hear suggestions before we move on."

[Deric Rion]

The lack of pleasantries was understood in this situation, and Deric quickly fell into place among the strategists. He listened intently as Jack laid out the facts before them, checking his blaster for a full cell. Shifting his eyes back to the rest of the group, he replied.

"I'd say we take 'em head on." Rion was dead serious in both his facial expressions and his tone. He wasn't a cowboy--though some accused his actions of being precisely that--but he did have a bit of a cowboy mentality. Go in shooting, ask questions later. This situation was a bit more tricky.

"It depends on who we need alive and who we don't need alive. Faradale, he might be able to shed some light on this whole New Republic sithspit. That, I'd like to hear." He smiled a bit, a little sadism in his grin, maybe. "This ain't my lead though. Whaddya say, chief?" Rion referred to Jack, wondering what his thoughts were on the entrance. The rest of the squad stayed pretty quiet and loyal. Chances were, they'd do what their cap'n called for.

[TK-632]

"If we're going to go in the front way, then we need t'be careful about explosives," TK-632 stated, nodding at Rion's idea. It wasn't a bad one, but he didn't need to see any Imperials killed. He had the feeling he might need all the Imperials soon.

But he saw no real other alternative. There was the top entrance but they building they were hitting was twelve stories tall and depending on where Faradale and his men were, it would take a while to find 'em. And by then...they might be gone.

"Squad One will go with me and hit the door. We gotta be ready for explosives like I said before. Rion, Bauer, Terrell, Skreet, and Morris are with me."

He pressed down a sticker near the back door, "Tony...you and Squad Two will hit the back. Squad Three get in the shuttle and head up to the roof. Expect any sort of explosive you can. Squad Three, shut off the elevators. Squad Two...keep 'em off the stairs.

"Squad One gets the collar if we're lucky. Take Faradale alive. The rest...it's your individual leader's call."

Jack grabbed his helmet, "Let's go...we hit it in 10. Let's try to not give ourselves away this time."

He tossed Rion an Imperial Repeater Rifle, "I hear IA is checking you out. Trouble?"

[Deric Rion]

"Yeah, you know how those desk rats get their panties in a wad about all kinds of sithspit." Catching the rifle with both hands, he cradled the weapon, inspecting everything about it. Checking the power cell, he decided it was good to go. The side arm at his hip made for a nice safety if necessary.

"After the whole Grinik thing, I've been getting the eye like I was a pickpocket." He was referring to the Baj Grinik bust, where Grinik sued the department for assault and battery in the interrogation room. Grinik was a known consort of Geeda the Hut, and Rion had tracked his bloated butt to a local strip club on Bin Prime. He didn't actually have a warrant, and he didn't actually have reasonable doubt, but by the time Grinik was let out of the holding cell, he had spilled several key pieces of information about a pretty extensive arms smuggling route through Balmorra. Unfortunately, he had also spilled a little blood, and the Twi'lek brought up a lawsuit that made the holonet.

"It all worked out in the end. I mean, he didn't have enough evidence. Not that I was guilty of anything. . ." This smile was a bit sadistic as Rion gave Jack a look. He turned towarads the building. "Well, you're the one with the military issue armor there, you first." Deric realized that the preperation time was ending as the squad regrouped back with he and Jack. Slowly, lead by Jack, the squad made it's way to the front doors.

"Well, I guess it's show time." They cautiously approached the entrance, their weapons poised, in strategic lines. Jack took the lead as Rion fell in line behind him. Like old times, he though. Jack had always been a better shot than Deric, but Deric had a better knack for getting information out of their targets. They were a good time--always had been. Untill, of course, they parted ways.

Now, they were reuinted.

[TK-632]

"All right...let's get ready to move," TK-632/Jack ordered into his helmet, the mechanical voicebox making his voice sound like most other stormtroopers in the Empire.

The other squads reported in ready, Squad Two around back ready to hit...Squadron Three had just arrived on the roof.

It was showtime.

"Still afraid of getting shot huh?" he chided Rion as he lifted his repeater rifle.

"Send in the droid," the stormtrooper indicated a large droid, much like a protocol droid as it trundled towards the large metal doors which seperated the building from the outside world.

The droid's metal hand reached out, its fingers tapping keys on the keypad next to the metal frame.

"Team One...stand by."

With a *beep* the doors swung open.

And with a loud BOOM! the world filled up with glass, metal, and debris as it quickly went to hell.

The stormtrooper helmet kept most of the dust from going into TK-632's mouth and it was probably a good thing. Faradale was the kind of man who wouldn't stop at anything to escape...and that might mean poisoning the air around an exit to go through.

He quickly switched his helmet to thermal and stared into the interior of the twelve story building. Faradale was probably after the gold in the upper chambers. He might have guards there.

Three blue lines told him there were explosives on the other side. Cursing under his breath, Jack grabbed the destroyed 'arm' of the droid and hurled it into the room. Two more explosions followed and the lights went out.

"Let's move!" then he dove into the room, Deric on his heels. Two blaster shots over him told him atleast two of the terrorists were waiting.

Jack fired back, sliding across the floor as he looked for cover.

[Deric Rion]

"Frell--" The blast shook his last breaths directly out of his lungs as he pinned his back to the outside corner of the entrance just as the shockwave caught him. Jack had taken a bigger shot of debris, but he looked ok. It wasn't like Deric had time to think about it anyway--quickly they were on the move, pushing into the bank. Chances were, that wouldn't be the last explosive--

"Spit, these stinkin explosives!" Deric swore again as another two blasts went off, prompted by Jack. Given the command, it was time to move in, Rion bracing the light repeater against him as he aimed the gun forward, taking quick, short steps behind Jack. Before they could react, three blasts of white hot laser whipped by them. Rion's own reaction was lighting quick, ripping off a short burst of repeater fire towards the source of the shots. Granted, they wanted to keep a few of them alive, but not at the expense of themselves.

"I should've brought my mask," he thought, coughing up dust and smoke as he crouched behind a half smashed table for cover. He peeked up to locate the source of the fire--two guards, nearly directly behind the large bank reception desk. They weren't any of the soldiers named in the intel report, so he figured they had to be supporter guns. This was bad--how many supporter guns would they have?

This wasn't going to do any good--the two men where heavily shileded behind the gigantic desk. Rion nodded, making eye contact with Jack, as the rest of their squad supported with covering fire. Without hesitation, the two men sprung from their positions. Descending upon the desk in a hail of blaster fire, Rion landed a shot directly to the chest of one of the gunners, dropping the man to the floor. Jack also appeared successful, and Rion checked both corridors for men.

"No more down here," he said, breathing a little hard with the momentum of the frontal assault. "What floor do they keep the gold on?"

[TK-632]

"Sixth Floor," TK-632's mechanicalized voice sounded a bit heavy as he breathed in the dust and smoke, swirling around the interior of the building. He had yet to see any more resistance coming from the large wooden table, set up as a defensive position.

"Let's move..."

The two walked towards the table, coming on either side of it. The bodies of the two terrorists lay dead, one of them still clutching his weapon.

These guys have better weapons than most militias, Jack noted as he kicked away the concussion rifle from the dead alien's hand.

"I think our Intel might not be a good as we thought. Neither of these guys are known to be a part of Faradale's group," if Deric could see the Imperial's face he'd recognize the look.

"We may've stumbled onto something larger than a simple snatch and grab...Let's move."

Turning, he headed towards the staircase, his eyes alert for anything.

[Deric Rion]

Deric pulled in close to examine the perps. Strange--they were definitely not amateurs. Not that Faradale and his usual bunch were, it was just that these guys had to be professionals. They had to be. Some of their gear was military issue, and no typical thug could come upon that stuff without some serious conections or help.

"You're not kidding," Rion replied, getting in line with Jack as they proceeded to the staircase. The group stayed silent as they planeted themselves into position. With a few hand motions, Jack signaled the squad to move, setting up an entry in to the stairs. After what they had just encountered, no chances would be taken with safety. Two men--demolitions experts--checked the door and the entrance with a thermal scan. Jack tossed a small breathing apparatus to Rion, nodding him an unspoken "you're going to need this."

Great, the detective thought. We've got gas. It wasn't his favorite thing to use, but highly efective. Lucky for him, his sunglasses were very versatile, buit with thermal and darkvision. A few seconds later, the door was kicked open abruptly by one of the troopers as two grenades were thrown into the stairwell. Bursting with muffled explosions, a chocking, subduing gas spewed from the canisters as Rion strapped on his mask. Giving it a few seconds to fumigate, Jack threw the command, and again they exploded into action.

Conditioning was key for a task force, especially when you had six flights of stairs to climb. On about the second floor, they located another armed guard--knocked out due to the gas. Rion stopped to remove his weapon and apply bracers. After about two more, they reached the sixth floor.

"Alright chief, I guess this is it," Rion spoke, his voice muffled through the breath mask. He braced himself against the wall to the sixth floor entrance, ready for the next movement to be called by Jack.

[TK-632]

Jack paused before moving, "Squad Two...Squad Three...check in."

The squads checked in, although Three said they had minor casualties. Apparently those on the roof were better armed than originally thought.

A lot like the rest of the gang, Jack thought as he contemplated his orders.

"Squad Two, send two up to backup Three. Skreet...Morris, go with 'em."

The two stormtroopers nodded before heading up the stairs towards the roof. If they could flank the thieves, they'd have a chance.

TK-632 nodded at Rion.

"Let's move..."

The door was flung open as Bauer and Terrell ran into the large room, throwing thermal detonators where they could. The explosions shook the building but the braces held.

Deric and Jack were right behind them, blasters raised.

"Xil Faradale! We know you're here! Drop the weapon!"

The blaster fire in response gave the authorities the answer. The hard way was always easiest.

[Deric Rion]

"Dammit!" Rion tried to keep his head down as a volley of blaster fire pelted the door frame around them and poured through the entrance. He turned to Jack who had pretty much taken the same coverage. Several troopers were doing their duty--some with detonators, some with blasters. Rion remained defensive for now, thinking about his next move.

"We need as many of those punks as possible alive, Jack!" He exclaimed over the noise. "But Faradale's our man. I ain't letting him die!" With that, Rion went cowboy. Typical for him and those he worked with, he dove into the dangerous room with the repeater outstretched before him. Immeditately, he saw several guards and identified two of the top names: Elishia and Varmale. They were commanding the first wave of defenders, he thought. The room spilt of into three subrooms--a small office, a filing closet, and the vault. Chances were, any one of these held Faradale. It'd be easy enough to drop these two out here. Faradale's position would probably be ridiculously fortified.

A few of the gunners went down as more stormies cleared Rion's path. Then, the world went into slo-mo. Every last breath seemed to freeze as Rion focused intently on what he was doing. Varmale spotted him--probably easy, considering he was in plain clothes and not armor--and trained his blaster.

THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK

His aim was too late as Rion's repeater pulled off several shots, three striking his torso and sending him to the floor. Varmale wouldn't be talking, but he wasn't the prime target. Afterall--Rion's neck came first. Diving to the floor, the detective connected with an overturned couch for cover as he watched one of Jack's troopers go down from a blaster bolt to the head. This was a tough business. Rion moved cautiously, breaking towards one of the gunners, ripping a few shots off at the target when he felt it. The hair stood up on the back of his neck--instinct to move.

Just as he turned, he saw it. A sadistic smile crossed Elishia's lips as she trained both barrels of her twin blaster pistols onto Rion. He stopped, dead in his tracks, as he realized he was in a tight spot. Time slowed again, as he could hear the seconds tick away and he watched her fingers flex around the triggers, closing in on enough pressure--

THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK

Her body controrted as blasts struck her in the neck and torso, sending her quickly to the floor. Rion turned--his heart racing--to see Jack still aimed at her position, muzzle smoking. He smiled.

"Just like old times," he muttered, taking cover.

[TK-632]

Jack's booted feet travelled across the floor as he ran towards where he caught a glimpse of where Xil Faradale stood. The terrorist's blaster was raised when Jack had last seen him. Now...the stormtrooper didn't know where he was.

"Oh Mister Imperial!" a sing-song voice called from the door across the room.

TK-632 stared to see Xil Faradale, blaster in one hand...but something else in the other.

"Did you really think I would let you capture me so easily?" The human's olive skin contorted into a smile as he spoke in accented Basic.

A Corellian accent, Jack noted.

"I have appointments to keep. Good-bye."

Faradale raised the hand which held the detonator as Jack raised his blaster and fired.

The terrorist fell, but the building filled with fire as the bombs on Elishia and Varmale went off.

Jack dove out of the way of the fire, his gloved hand pulling at Rion as flame quickly filled the room.

"We gotta go!"

[Deric Rion]

Ka-BOOM!

The blast shook the entire sixth floor as durasteel, fiberplast, and concrete shrapnel flew in all possible directions. Before he felt his body tugged backwards, Rion caught a glimpse of Faradale busting through the large, balcony window of the floor. The shrapnel ate the air up as it billowed through the main lobby, the shockwave sending both Jack and Deric into the stairwell from whence they had come. Rion felt a bit of weightlessness as he was thrown down the stairwell and into, presumably, the 5th floor staircase.

A few seconds of black. . .

"Jack!" He let out a yell, his black clothing covered in gray and brown dust as well as a few large chunks of metal. One piece stuck out of his side--luckily, only penetrating his vest. He pulled it free and tried to stand, realizing he had last the repeater somewhere in the fall. Whipping out his pistol--just in case--he came to his feet, his eyes readjusting as he searched through the dark for his friend.

"I'm here. . ." The mechanized voice came from above him. Rion made his way up to see where the hell he'd been thrown to. Jack was just coming to his feet as smoke poured from the ruins of the sixth floor.

"Anyone alive?" Rion wondered what actual team they had left. Jack did a quick comm check. He looked back to the detective, signalling that it wasn't that good.

"Looks like it's me and you from our team. Squad two and three are pinned down--they've got speeders. One was spotted bolting from the sixth floor a second ago." Jack was recovering well, as was Rion--minus an explosives inspired headache. At this news, though, he nearly smiled. He liked this part. The chase.

"Well, your's or mine?" He gave Jack a nearly playful grin as the two made their way out of the building.

[TK-632]

"We've both got about the same kind," Jack pulled off his helmet as they exitted the building. The armor started to come off too, it was too damn hot and stuffy to be wearing it. The chest plate stayed though...it'd saved his life enough.

"I'm the better shot so you drive," Jack signalled to one of the Ruddles Guard units.

"I need to know what transports are located at the starport. I don't care how small...get me a copy, Deric...give him your comm ID. We're gonna need it."

Jack trotted towards Deric's speeder, checking the charge on his reapter rifle.

"We can't let 'em get off planet. If we do...then we get to follow 'em. And I don't know if Coruscant would be willing to help us. Especially if Faradale claims asylum."

[Deric Rion]

Deric passed on the info as he whipped out the keys to his speeder. It was true--he was a better driver than he was a shot, and this was going to take some serious catching up to do.

"Starport, eh?" Rion hopped into the Falcon and buckled himself in. Flipping a few switches, the speeder came to life, free hovering as the engines fired up. He clicked on his emergency lights and his radio, keeping their lines of communication open. "I think you're right--they aren't keeping that gold in Ruddles. First chance they get, they're off the planet."

"Dispatch to 114," the radio crackled.

"This is 114," Rion replied. The number codes were easy enough to read if you had any knowledge. The first number denoted the department, the second number the position, the third number was level of experiene. It went the same with with the rest of the Balmorran Guard. Deric was Bin Prime division (1), Detective (1), Rank 4 (4).

"Local authorities have spotted a mid-sized, black Kuat-3 series speeder speeding away from the bank's positon. Could be the perp you're after."

"Load the coordinates onto my radar," Deric replied as they speeder took off. Already, they were behind. It was time to move. The Falcon sprung into action, the souped up speeder engine punishing the air around it as they lurched forward. By this time, Jack had stripped down his armor to the leggings. It wasn't too suprising--the hot explosions and Ruddles sticky air was getting to Rion as well, as sweat formed on the top of his bald head and brow.

A moment passed as Rion followed the shifty speeder as best as he could. Traffic was intense--it was about rush hour--and the detective was a bit stressed navigating the busy skyways. Coming closer, they finally got a visual lock. The speeder did have an EMP, but it was dangerous to trip in such dense traffic.

"Can you see him? What does it look like--" Just as he spoke, a few sprays of blaster fire struck the speeder, blowing the engine out of a civilian craft in front of him. His own speeder was pretty well armored as he kept pace.

[TK-632]

"Dark..." Jack reported back, "Looks like it's our speeder. Color's a deep blue. Plates are...3...Z...Y...2...A...4. 3 Zero Yard 2 Adam.

"Heading west on..." he paused to fire his rifle at the speeder, "Damar...Coordinates 10430. 10430. We'll take back up if you have it."

"We copy 114...Back up is on its way."

"How much you want to bet," TK-632/Jack ducked back into the cool speeder, "The firearms Faradale had were NR-issued. Intel's been buzzing with New Republic Info. Almost like there's an arm smuggling going into Balmorra.

"Your sources say anything, Deric?"

[Deric Rion]

"Well, to tell you the truth, I haven't heard much about it. Although, it would make sense. Lately, I've noticed--hold on!" Rion was cut off as he noticed two small objects chucked out from the speeder in front of him. They were concussion mines, deployed by small scale military vehicles to bust up repulsorlift vehicles in pursuit. They could be placed like regular mines or thrown on a timer. He imagined he had about three seconds to react.

Gripping the yoke of the speeder, he jerked it left, bumping a civilian vehicle which was desperately trying to ge out of the way. The concussion mine buzzed past him, exploding with a loud thud, throwing some speeders in different directions. He pulled up, jumping the next blast and then whipped right to avoid the last. Damn, these guys had equipment and they knew what they were doing.

"This is dispatch, we've got a baracade set up. We've got the Starport exit covered." Rion breathed a bit of relief as Jack fired a few more blasts at the speeder ahead. Still, he wondered how much good it would do. He wonder what those guys had up top.

"Get your weapons ready, dispatch, it's gonna be bumpy!" Just as he spoke the words, a torso began to squirm further and further out of the speeder in front of them. It was more body than the shooters who were taking pop shots at the Falcon. He was dragging something out of the vehicle. Something big. Something bulky.

"Frell--it's a rocket launcher!" Jack could hear a tiny bit of nervousness in Deric's voice. It wasn't just for their own safety--it was for the heavily populate skyway around them. Several speeders and beings crowded this route, and Deric began to wonder what the maniacs in front of him were going to try.

[TK-632]

They tried something only maniacs could try.

They fired at the skyway...

Jack cringed as he saw the durasteel, concrete, and glass walkway turn into dust as it exploded.

They'd just committed Murder One, multiple times. And the stormtrooper knew it was time for them to pay.

"We need to keep them from reaching the starport!" he stated the obvious, as the large speeder accelerated to avoid the crashing debris.

"Dispatch, we need a medical team stat to the Ruddles Skyway. It's been shredded," Jack yelled into his comlink. He also needed more backup than the Civil Guard.

"This is Stormtrooper ID TK-632 reporting from Ruddles. I need heavy backup...we have armed men racing towards the Starport....No I don't care if it's 'officially' out of our jurisdiction. I need a full squad of stormtroopers as well as some Dark Troopers if you have them.

"TK-632 assigned to the counter-terrorism department. Just get me the backup I need so we can take these bastards down!"

Jack switched off his comlink and gave a dark look.

"Let's go...we need to catch Faradale. Make a right here, then another left. We'll cut 'em off. Think the speeder can handle the damage?"

[Deric Rion]

"We're 'bout to find out," Rion quipped as he whipped the speeder into a sharp right turn. He burned the throttle, mashing the pedal as hard as it would go. The speeder burst forward--he hadn't pushed it like this in some time, and he was hoping the Falcon would hold up to the challenge. Hell, forget about speed--the upcoming collision wasn't gonna be pretty.

"I hope you get some boys there," he said as they made ridiculous time down the sidestreet. Lights passed by them like a steady breeze as they zipped though. Just like he'd been instructed, he'd taken another hard left. Lined up in a perfect right angle to the radar blip that was the opposing speeder.

"Well, say a prayer--any kind, I don't care!" Rion was half-joking as he strapped in the heavy braces of his speeder seat. Half-joking. He hit the throttle hard again, feeling his back sink into the seat as they accelerated through the sidestreet. Jack was spot-on about timing--they were gonna meet their friends hard and heavy. Rion had a plan, though. He wasn't going into this cold--no matter how important. The Falcon was equipped with a moderate shield system. However, it slurped quite a bit of power from the vehicle, and wasn't generally employed unless parked. This could be the difference between ending up on top or bottom of this pile.

"Ok. . .you ready?" Rion looked to Jack, who was buckled in pretty tight as well. "This is not something I can afford. I expect the Empire's insurance to cover this." He smiled as they neared the mark. His hand went down to the controls, holding the yoke steady but focussing his attention on the throttle and shield controls.

3. . .a couple of heavy beads of sweat escaped his head and trickled down his nose.

2. . .he tightened his grip out of adrenaline rush and fear.

1. . .with a motion, he jerked off of the throttle and slammed the shield generator button, enacting a purple glow around the speeder as it t-boned the opposing vehicle.

CRRAAAASSSHH

The jolt threw his neck and body into sixty-five differenct positions as metal dug into metal, the speeders colliding in a sick flash of fire and light. Glass shattered as the winshield cracked and gave way under the pressure. He felt the feeling of a free fall as the speeder descended a few tens of feet to the surface, crashing abruptly on the duraconcrete below. A few meters from them, the other speeder smashed upsidedown, glass and metal raining from the amazingly loud collision.

Rion groaned as his eyes burned with terrible pain in their sockets. That, was a jolt.

[TK-632]

Jack gave a small grin as he started to extracate himself from the vechicle. His gun was gone, lost out the window during the collision. And his chest armor was smashed in but had still done its job in protecting him from any major damage.

Just maybe a broken rib. The stormtrooper shifted in pain.

Or two.

He fell out of the vechicle, slowly rising to his feet as he looked for his weapon, then at Deric.

"C'mon...we gotta see if there are any survivors."

Deric nodded, pulling out his blaster pistol, and shaking glass from his shirt. His face was cut and bleeding and Jack suspected his wasn't much different.

Jack pulled his sidearm, grateful it still worked and the two staggared towards the overturned speeder. It wasn't burning, but it certainly had seen better days.

If anyone had survived that sort of collision it would be a miracle.

The two made it to the vechicle, blasters drawn, and circled around it.

There was the body of Klik Mercatile, his face bloodied and lifeless, laying in the seat.

But no Xil Faradale.

"Dammit!" Jack yelled attempting to find his comlink, "Dammit! Dispatch his is TK-632...we've lost Faradale...Repeat...we've lost Faradale!

"He's gone..."

[Deric Rion]

"Frell!" Rion could feel a trickle of blood down his cheek as a small cut was found slightly above his brow. He might need sticthes--but not yet. There was work to be done. Especially given that Faradale had just slipped out of their grasp. Just as the detective managed to land a solid kick into the fender of the broken speeder, two squad speeders pulled up, lights and sirens shinning and whirring.

"Good--the cavalry's finally here." Rion shot a glance back at Jack, who was holding his side. "Spit, you ok?" He wondered if the police had any adrenaline shots to ease the pain untill they could get proper medical attention. He felt a bit out of whack, but he didn't have much time to think about it. His mind was on Faradale and Faradale only.

"Sirs, are you alright--"

"Yeah, we're fine. You got any adrenaline shots?" The officer removed a kit from his vehicle, popping a does into the detective. It would do for now. He wasn't big into drugs--he could usually handle the pain--but for now, he needed something to calm down his headache.

"Dispatch, this is 114. Is the Starport covered?"

"This is dispatch--yes and no. We've got surveilence set up. With the way these maniacs have been blindfiring, we can't risk a confrontation. We've already got three casualties from the rocket blast on the skyway."

"I want your best eyes and ears on this guy as soon as he enters the place. Don't let him out of your sight. We're on our way." Rion popped his neck and explained the situation to the officers. A few EMSs showed up to clear the wreckage as Rion gave his Falcon a friendly pat goodbye.

"We need a ride to the Starport." The officer nodded as Deric and TK-632 climbed into the back of the patrol speeder. He sat his head back for a second, relaxing the pressure that had formed in it. Rechecking his pistol, everything looked ok. The vest--despite the chunk of glass he pulled out of it--would still hold.

"You ok? You need anything?" The ride would be a short one, but it was nice to clear his head.

[TK-632]

"I'm fine, thanks," Jack replied, checking where a small piece of metal had grazed his side. The stormtrooper chestplate had held, but he'd need it replaced later on.

"Faradale's gotta freighter, we know that," the stormtrooper started checking his rifle, making sure it wasn't damaged. Then he checked his sidearm for the same thing. Thankfully, neither were too damaged- just some cosmetic work which could be fixed easily.

"Corellian made, does any kind of smuggler or scoundrel not possess one of those?"

Deric started to open his mouth.

"I'm sure Talon Karrde has a Corellian frieghter somewhere."

The two laughed, sharing a moment of levity before both steely-eyed veterans prepared for a potential fight at the Starport.

The speeder pulled up to the gate of the Starport, a large lavish building by far the biggest in Ruddles. It was one of those buildings which attempted to mirror Bin Prime and succeeded to a point. The emperor had even allowed the Ruddles Starport to be named after his father, which said something about the Emperor's father.

The good news was there was backup waiting for them. The bad news was...it wasn't what either Jack or Deric hoped for. Eight stormtroopers and an Imperial officer- who looked like he'd seen more time behind a desk, then on a Star Destroyer. He also had that look of 'All you white-armored stormtroopers are just cannon-fodder,' look on his face. An expression TK-632 had heard plenty of times...but never agreed upon.

"Okay," the officer attempted to gain control, "You've done well here, but I'm afraid I have control now."

Jack shook his head, "Not since Tomar created the Counter-Terrorist Group, Captain. Check with Vorrann if you wish, but I still have command here."

The officer looked like he was going to object, but then Rion gave him a glare and he backed down.

"If Faradale's headed here, we need to know what docking bay he's held up in. Then I'll take a squad in to take him. If he escapes, I need some air backup of anything...if that fails...I want a shuttle waiting to take a team of my choosing to where-ever their destination is.

"It might take time, but we'll get him."