Merrick followed Snipes lazily through the corridors of the jail wing, trusting him to warn her if they needed to lay low. It was late enough that there weren’t many guards on duty, and those that were around preferred the lazy approach – sitting at their checkpoints rather than actually patrolling. They had no trouble sneaking up on two guards sitting around playing cards and laughing and talking loudly, probably taking great pleasure in the idea that they would keep the inmates awake for as long as they felt like. Snipes quickly disposed of his guard while Merrick temporarily silenced hers and found an empty, open cell. Snipes arrived as she was rifling through his gear and smiled appreciatively as she came across a worn knife. He knelt, his face level with the guard’s, and spoke quietly to the man. “Now I’m sure if you look in her eyes, you’ll realise that you don’t want to give her any excuse to do something nasty to you with your own weapon.” The guard whimpered quietly and looked from Snipes to Merrick and back again.

Snipes took a quick glance at Merrick as he stood, the guard having given them directions and even his set of keys to the cells of the other Raiders voluntarily. Snipes knew that they’d tortured Merrick, and he would hate to be the one to deny her some revenge, but she blinked quickly, knocked the guard out and followed Snipes from the cell. “Let’s go get the others.” Snipes nodded and they returned to wandering through Worga’s prison, this time with much more direction than before.

**

She laughed in his face again. At the start, his composure had been excellent, but now it had started to wear thin. She could tell that he craved some sort of break in her, a scream, some begging, even just an uncertainty in her voice or manner. She gave him nothing. His frustration was obvious even to his colleagues, and Merrick’s eyes following him around the room, her attentiveness despite her situation, made him very uncomfortable. He wouldn’t admit it to himself though, he was in power here, she was the one in pain. But he had been given a deadline to find out anything about her source in the organisation, where her info about Worga had come from. And so he ordered them to shock her again....

**

Snipes kicked Merrick in the shin then ducked around the corner as she shot him a glare. “Merr, stop daydreaming, we need to get the others.” She nodded almost imperceptibly and followed him once more. All the while, she was thinking of plans for getting the mission completed as well as tracking down the interrogator. She knew that, right now, there was no time for personal business. And there wasn’t likely to be time while ever their mission was incomplete. She hoped that the Jesters had made some progress on gaining the trust of Worga’s people, and maybe even the location of their objective. But for now she had to resign herself to hoping that her interrogator survived the mission so that she could hunt him down later. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of dying swiftly.

Kami slid down the wall of the cleaning closet, her hands shaking, her breath coming in short panicked gasps. She hadn’t had a chance to process Eviscares death since Aeos’s call, instead she’d casually mentioned the brawl between the troopers to Worga and Lodur and then continued on with her general duties as though nothing was amiss. General duties that included assisting Lodur and his men interrogating members of the Raiders, her friends and comrades, pushing them to the brink in an attempt to discover information she already knew.

Pushing her face between her hands, Kami forced herself to take several deep long breaths. Eviscares had been a long time friend, she had known him even before Aeos had met him, back in the days when she was still a soldier new to command. To suddenly lose him in the face of everything was a severe shock, and she was struggling to maintain her façade of indifference in front of Worga’s bloodthirsty men. They were waiting for her to slip up, a single comment, a single expression or communication that they could use to tear down Worga’s new favorite lieutenant and take her place. Such was the violent nature of a mercenary organization, and she had few friends to watch her back.

Pasck had remained hidden, though Kami grew increasingly worried about his absence. She had sent a few of her growing gang of stooges out to look for him, but their loyalty was as questionable as hers was in reality, so she was doubtful of their unlucky findings. She suspected the Trandoshan was simply biding his time, waiting for Worga to unleash Operation Ragnarok so he could swoop in and steal his prize. Despite her and Lodur’s attempts at solidifying security about the base, Pasck knew of back doors that neither she or her Zabrak colleague knew about, which made peace of mind extremely difficult to obtain.

Angrily brushing away the tears that had slid unnoticed down her cheeks , Kami forced herself back to her feet, knocking away the dirty mop that attempted to hinder her progress. She had an interrogation process to oversee, Merrick’s of all people, who had until now stubbornly resisted all of Worga’s torturers’ attempts to procure information about who she was. With orders to take the questioning to a new level, Kami had virtually been given Merrick’s life in her hands, the Hutt lord would probably see the necessity of causing the Colonel’s death at long as he obtained what he wanted.

Pulling in another deep breath, Kami forced her face back into the unfeeling mask which had become her daily expression since her infiltration. She would somehow ensure that the Colonel survived the day, and then spend some quality time with Worga reassuring the Hutt Lord about how fantastic she was. Every day she spent without gaining knowledge of Ragnarok was another day spent in torture by the Raiders, and that was the one thought that kept her strong…and kept her going.

*        *        *        *        *        *

*Weeks later*

Kami and Lodur trailed Worga as he led them from his throne room, for once void of the protection offered by his men at every turn. The urge to pull her blaster free and shoot the Hutt Lord would have been insatiable but for the destination which he was leading them…to Ragnarok, and the fruition of months and months of work.

Worga slowed to a crawl, reaching out to trail his chubby gray hand down a seemingly blank walk of metal. Both Kami and Lodur were unsurprised when the wall hissed, sliding back to their left to reveal a small security panel.

“Keyed to my prints only,” Worga informed them, dragging his thick tongue along his bottom lip in obvious delight at the prospect of revealing his toy to his trusted advisors. Punching the panel, he rolled over to where the entire door now rose to reveal a wide staircase curving downwards into darkness. Gesturing impatiently for Kami and Lodur to come, Worga propelled himself down the staircase with a sudden burst of speed.

Cast into darkness as the door shut behind them, Kami followed the barely visible outline of Lodur’s broad shoulders as he followed his master into the earth. They trekked down for what seemed like hours, before the floor beneath Kami’s feet plateaued, leading the trio out into an extremely well lit and bustling workshop.

Men and aliens, all clad in a uniform set of grey overalls, scurried across a bare metallic floor about the base of an extraordinarily large device centered in the middle of the cavern. Kami heard Lodur curse in horribly shielded admiration at the sheer size of the structure, which bore a set of what looked like oversized engines on its back.

“What is it?” Lodur whispered, following Worga as he gestured again for his two lieutenants to follow him towards his masterpiece.  Coming to a rest at its base, Kami tilted her head back, almost losing her balance in an attempt to view the top of the strange machine.

“A destroyer of worlds,” Worga boomed, letting lose a hearty chuckle, “The result of years of work, and billions of credits.” He waved a pudgy arm above his head to encompass the machine, “Ragnarok will give whoever purchases it the power to destroy the homelands of their enemies. It latches to systems like a giant leech, pushing planets from their orbit and igniting the natural destructive processes of gravity.” He laughed again, overcome with his own brilliance, “In the meanwhile, I shall have enough funds to start a small empire, and with you two at my side, we shall be a force to reckon with!”

Lodur laughed, throwing Kami a wide grin, “This is astounding!”

Kami stood forward, running a hand along the giant mass of machinery, her mind a blur of thoughts. This was beyond anything she had imagined…beyond anything indeed that Vast Empire intelligence had imagined when they had committed so many of their men to discover Worga’s plans. That Worga was capable of creating such a monstrosity, and that he already had multiple buyers lined up suggested not only that the VE was at severe risk, but millions and millions of other systems and organizations, innocent or no.

“She is overwhelmed!” Worga clapped her heartily on her back, “Take it all in Sharpe. You will never again behold such a wonder in your lifetime!”

Abruptly, sirens flashed to life about them, causing the scurrying workers to pause mid task as their world turned a bloody red.

“This is a level five alert,” The programmed computer voice droned, “All security to your posts. All workers to holding areas.”

Kami swore, spinning around as the chamber erupted into chaos, workers dropping clipboards and tools to the floor to sprint towards the relative safety of their chambers. Level Five denoted an extensive attack, either external or internal. Lodur was already on his comm. at her side as Worga screamed in visible outrage, his bulbous eyes focusing on his elder lieutenant, “Report!”

“Prisoner breakout,” Lodur informed him, glancing over at Kami, “We need to go, now.”

“Sharpe!”

Kami’s reply was cutoff as her comm. emitted a terrified shout. Recognizing the voice as Miff, one of her more loyal smugglers, she thumbed the response button, “What is it?”

“Pasck is here, now! He came through the hangar, has a bunch of unknowns, is killing anyone that doesn’t switch over!”

Lodur let out a string of particularly brutal swear words, “Sithspit, at the same time!”

Cursing her luck, Kami spun to Worga, “My Lord, stay hidden, we’ll deal with this.”

The Hutt Lord grabbed at her, pulling her feet free from the ground. Choking as her air supply was suddenly cut off, Kami struggled to focus on Worga.

“You do not fail me on this you understand!” Worga yelled, his face blotching, “Kill the traitor lizard, kill the scum prisoners and report back to me!”

He cast Kami backwards into Lodur, causing the air to violently expel from her lungs. Allowing Lodur to steady her, Kami doubled over coughing, attempting to breath through the sudden pain in her chest.

“It will be done,” She vaguely heard Lodur say, “We’ll send down your personal guard my lord, you will be safe while we deal with this.”

The Zabrak mercenaries' hands tightened about Kami’s shoulders as he steered her safely away from the incensed Hutt Lord, “Deep breaths girl, we have a lot of work to do.”

OOC:

Wasn't quite what I had planned, but it will do.

They’d both been taken aback by Aeos’ presence in the prison wing, but Merrick’s decision had been quick. Without knowing the current status of the mission, she had to keep the squad leader’s cover intact. And so she had knocked her out with the other guards. She’d had enough time to give them a little bit of information, but now it seemed like everything was going crazy. They must have missed a guard, because alarms were going off and the prison wing appeared to be going into lockdown. They had no choice but to free the rest of Raiders and get the hell out, regardless of where that left Jester.

The rest of Raiders squad were all grateful to finally get out of their cells and back to the interesting part of their mission. None of them seemed alarmed at the security systems blaring and trying to lock them in. Of course, it helped to have all the keys to the place. The only people being locked in would be the guards meant to stop them, and the prisoners that weren’t trying to escape. Merrick had considered freeing everyone, but they were meant to be here to uphold Imperial law, not let a bunch of undesirables free on a remote planet. They were already going to upset the balance of power in the organised crime syndicates of the area.

Merrick let the Raiders go first, following Snipes and the others at a small distance. She didn’t doubt that there were reinforcements on the way, now that their escape was common knowledge, and that she’d need to pay attention to their back. Of course, she didn’t know that they’d managed to synchronise their escape with the attack on the facility being led by Pasck. The resistance was fairly thinly spread, and Merrick and the Raiders had little difficulty making their way towards the main part of Worga’s home. By now she expected that Snipes had contacted Marka, wherever he was, to come and give them a hand. She couldn’t help feeling that they were dumping Kami and the other Jesters in fire by leaving now, rather than finding them and just blowing the whole place to hell. But this is what Aeos seemed to want, and so they ran towards the rendezvous with Marka.

Kraytirous was taking powerful strides in order to keep up with the taller Imperial troopers. Kraytirous had just gotten out of Basic Training a month back. Then he'd been discreetly transferred to Raider's squad just in time to be shipped out to help with some sort of mission. There had been no briefing, just the exchange of gossip by the squad as to what was going on. Some had said that Jesters Squad, another Imperial Squadron, had gone rogue and joined a crime syndicate. Others said that the Jesters were actually under cover. And the few that looked veteran enough to know what to expect from such a situation said nothing.

Kraytirous was among neither of the groups. He just socialized with anyone who was within ear shot of him, talking about the latest holovids and the most upcoming holovid stars. A close by twi'lek spoke about Dentr'estha Ondretin, an up and coming Twi'lek supermodel. She had been in several holo-films, being the main character. Most had been romances and had been viewed with optemistic review. She truly had a beautiful face, wonderful curves and a cute accent Or so the Twi'lek said. But instead of provoking the alien, they all just nodded and smiled.

* * *
Several conversations later, either the pilot got tired of their laughing and jeering and decided to just dump them on the planet or they'd reached their destination, but the ship's landing siren sounded. The shuttle hissed quietly as it landed, the ramp was lowered and the soldiers marched out in orderly formation.

Their rifles were drawn and held at the ready as the Stormtroopers marched out of the shuttle. Marka, their current leader, motioned for them to move on. Kraytirous was smiling as the Twi'lek male he'd been chatting to on the ship approached Daesha and started talking to her, obvious lust piercing his eyes. As soon as he'd been put down, which hadn't taken long, Daesha must have felt bad because she compensated the Twi'lek by telling him she'd chat with him back on the ship. Kraytirous walked up to her and poked her in the ribs with his elbow. "Looks like you'll need to act out that dance from Basic Training after all." He smiled in his helmet and walked on.

* * *

The air around Kraytirous looked full of airborne grease and cooking ingredients such as different types of flour. Luckily Kraytirous was protected from these disgusting toxins within the confines of his helmet. They weren't really toxic, but Kraytirous had the feeling they'd make his nose burn nonetheless. Soon the troop had managed to reach what must be the rendezvous point as Marka came to a halt and opened a door with the word 'Pantry' scratched into it.

Snipes spun, his foot connecting with a body and sending it tumbling across the floor. Snipes dove behind a box as a volley of blaster bolts ripped up the floor, sparking against the man that Snipes had knocked down. Then the bolts went mad and then silent. Snipes stuck his head over the box and saw Merrick standing over the body. She had apparently decided to detach herself from the shadows at some point. The shadow suit she wore made the shadows a more useful place to hang out. Snipes remembered the one he was wearing under his clothes, he didn’t need it yet.

“Decided to join in I see.”

“Couldn’t let you get yourself killed, you could still make good cover.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Snipes stood and stretched, grabbing the blaster from one of the men. He loved trading up. He shoved it into his belt, from which the stun baton still hung. Left and right he looked, checking the small room for anything else of value. There wasn’t really anything, so Snipes made his way through the door.

It opened into another wing of the prison. Lower security, they had bumped up Snipes and Merrick's security rating after they got tired of asking them questions. Confined to naught but each others company for two weeks. It would have been easy to go stir crazy if Snipes hadn’t been able to look forward to escape. Now they had reentered the lower security area they’d been initially detained in. It didn’t really look any different, lots of steel doors. Snipes and Merrick took opposite sides of the hall and searched out the RAIDERS.

Snipes found the first and threw the door open. Nams lounged on one of the bunks, another woman cowered in the corner. From Nams lack of concern Snipes assumed she was responsible.

“I was just about to rescue you too.”

“Right, Nams, lets go,” Snipes tossed her his stun baton and shrugged, it was all he had to spare.

Releasing the rest went smoothly, with only a couple guards to dispatch. Snipes had been temporarily amused when he managed to twist one of their necks all the way around so that it faced forward again. It was all he could do to stop giggling like a madman. Most of the RAIDERS were confined with random criminals, Snipes locked them all back up. Couldn’t have random ruffians running around, one of them might tell someone something. Snipes didn’t know who or what or why, or if it would be of any use to whoever, but he wasn’t going to risk it.

The efficiency with which RAIDERS accepted their release and situation then went about like it was normal was a testament to their skill. Most were still unarmed, four had stun batons, Merrick and Snipes had the only blasters. Snipes had selfishly kept one to himself, if someone had to be relied on to give good cover Snipes preferred it to be himself. They were taking orders better than Snipes had expected as well. He’d almost expected them to be pissed for his surrendering. They seemed to at least be waiting to hear an explanation. That was good. The hotheads had been cooled down. Confinement sometimes had that effect on people.

* * *

Snipes leaned back, he was lounging on a large shelf, the middle one on the wall. He’d cleared it off, ate a bunch of tasteless food. And a good deal of what roughly had been identified as water. It was strange that in a base that was completely submerged there was no water that even roughly passed as clean. Then again Snipes had never been a big fan of the substance. Snipes cast his eyes around at the other RAIDERS, eating, stretching, conversing, there was even a little laughing. Nothing like food to lift spirits. Snipes doubted they’d forgotten their dire situation, but five short minutes of escape from their hopeless reality was forgivable. Merrick stood in the corner, Snipes attempts to get her to enjoy a cigarette with him had been met with sarcasm and rude remarks as to his character. Snipes had laughed them off. They were a horrid brand one of the dead mercs had enjoyed, or at least endured.

The door opened, and Snipes pulled the power5 from his belt and held it over his stomach. It opened to reveal a man with shaggy hair and a sword on his back. From what Snipes remembered he was Marka, a former RAIDER and current Jester. His eyes cast about dispassionately for a moment before Nams sprung from the corner of Snipes vision and clasp him tightly in a hug. The others eyed him with some distrust, but said nothing. Snipes let the pistol rest on his stomach again.

“Must be Marka, I am the one they call Snipes, and this is my merry band of escapees. Glad to see you joined the party.”

He nodded and stepped into the room, followed by a gaggle of confused looking people. Snipes assumed they were some sort of reinforcements. Snipes still didn’t know exactly what’s going on. He needed her to show up someday and let him know, they couldn’t hide in the cupboard for long. Not with what little information about the current goings on that were taking place without him. He had an undeniable urge to smash some skulls.

Snipes didn’t have to wait for long, he was half way through lighting another cigarette when the door opened again, just as the new arrivals were getting settled. Aeos stepped through the door and everyone’s hands went to their weapons. Snipes stretched and pulled himself out of his spot on the shelf.

“Nice of you to make it.”

“Things came up.”

“WHY YOU!” Dante screamed, pulling down on Aeos. “God damn scum.”

Snipes picked him up by the scruff of the neck and spun him around. “Alright people, shut the hell up. I believe some explanation is required here, so hear what she has to say. Some things may make a little more sense.” Snipes gave Aeos a half smile and nodded to her.

Quillia had watched, horrified as her former drill instructor was being strangled. She had tensed up and prepared to fire her blaster if she needed to.

Looking around the room she saw similar faces going through the same conflicted feelings. Finally the twillek female released Aeos and the room relaxed noticably. Aeos explained the events that had led up to the present situation. She explained why the Jesters were "rogue."

“Which of those are mine?” she asked Marka pointing over to where the recruits were huddling together.

“Quillia, Kats, Maze, Aeos is your squad leader, feel free to make your way over to her,” Marka replied.

Quillia was both nervous and excited to be part of the Jesters. She headed over to where the rest of her new squad was standing, everyone sizing each other up. Some of them eyed her backpack suspiciously, combat medics were uncommon and she was sure they didn't know what to think of her. She double checked her comlink and blaster and noticed the others doing the same.

The powers at be decided on a plan of action and the crowd dispersed. The Jesters headed out in groups of twos and threes. Quillia and Aeos waited a few minutes and started down the hallway towards Worga's throne room.

Aeos grabbed her comlink after they had left. "Remember Jesters, blend in if you can, we're not trying to get noticed."

As they were heading down the hallway, two security guards, which recognized Aeos, looked at Quillia suspiciously.

"Who's that?" The lead guard asked.

"She's new, she arrived today." Aeos replied hoping the guard wouldn't second guess her.

"I don't know, I think I would have heard about someone like her being around." He looked at them both tensing slightly. "Let's see her identification." He started walking toward Quillia.

Not knowing what to do, Quillia fired her blaster from the hip twice one shot going wild, the second hitting the guard in the stomach killing him.

The other guard started to draw his weapon, but Aeos had already had her pistol drawn and fired twice, both shots hitting him in the chest. Quillia could hear blaster fire and screams echoing down the halls from the other groups, hoping things were going better for some of them.

"Sorry, I-" Quillia paused, "he was going to, I didn't"

"You did the right thing, you had no other choice" Aeos reassured her "we've got to get out of here."

Quillia checked the two guards for signs of life, grabbed up their blasters, and then followed Aeos down the hall in the direction of the throne room. She could still hear the faint sound of blaster fire from the other passages as they moved on.

I had too, I didn't have a choice. She tried to reassure herself, while her hands shook.

OOC: can not delete the post so I had to edit it.

OOC:

Sorry if this sucks, I'll try to do better next time. But I think i'm back!

Dante moved his liberated slugthrower rifle left slightly, and winced at the pain caused by even this small motion. Between the burns, bruises, and cuts, his every movement let him experience some new variation on the pain.

After this mission, I'm going to dunk myself in a bacta tank, Chaos take the taste, and not come out for a month.

During his one month "vacation", as some of the other RAIDERS were referring to their internment, the guards had not been gentle with him. After his abortive attempt at taking Aeos hostage, he had been stunned and thrown face first into a rather smelly holding cell. He had fallen unconscious, only to wake up and find that a wet furball of an alien had been experimentally chewing on his left ear. Exactly 2.45 seconds later, it had landed against the wall with a loud crunch, writhed in a twisted heap, and then fallen still and, thankfully, silent. When a guard had come in to remove the body, Dante had kneed him and tried to make a break for it.

Unfortunately for his hopes of escape, the guards had dealt with this kind of situation before. He'd managed to get four meters down the dank hallway, with the cries of encouragement and scorn from the other captives in the area to spur him on, before the glowing azure stun bolt had hit him in the small of the back and sent him crashing down heavily to the slime covered floor. As Dante thought, he rubbed his left leg, where there was still an angry red welt from that cheerful little scenario.

This scene was repeated half a dozen times in the next two weeks, until the guards gave up and simply chained him to the wall. In between escape attempts, he had the interrogation sessions to look forward to. Despite his run-down holding facilities, Worga had spared no expense when it came to torture equipment: Dante had even seen, and felt, some of the new Mark VII Agonizers. The  next few weeks had melded together into a confused blur of shouting, needles, and pain. After a while, he had stopped responding to the questions, and the  interrogators had moved onto  the others. Throughout the sessions he had tried to be silent, but the pain had been too much. The memories echoed inside Dante's head, and he ground his teeth audiably, attracting a glare from the other RAIDERS.

The room was dark, with the spotlight on the table. Humming devices were everywhere, and Dante's neck was twisted back at a painfully distorted angle. The two guards stood by the door, their weapons safeties off and barrels held casually but in his direction. In the drug-induced haze, the room seemed to be constantly shifting like a freighter caught in a meteor storm, and the outlines of his Twilek interrogator were blurred. Dimly, he heard her asking questions, now coaxing and then furious a moment later. Ignoring her, he chanted his refrain over and over again.

"I am Corporal Dante Asana, Raiders Squad, Wildcard Platoon Phoenix Company, Vast Imperial Army. That is all the information I am authorized to divulge."

Inside his head, one phrase echoed over and over :Faithful To The End, Faithful To The End.....

"You've been abandoned. Your superiors have forgotten about you, left you here to rot and die. Tell us why you were sent here, and you can leave this facility a rich man, free to go anywhere you want. Your leaders think you're dead, they won't be looking for you. Just tell me, it'll be our little secret..."

"Go space yourself."

Faithful to the End....
The words seemed almost mocking, now.

"Answer me, or we resume the interrogation."

Faithful to the End....

"I am Corporal Dan-"

He was cut off there by the application of a neurostimulator to his forehead. The pain arced, and he writhed as he fought to repress a scream, then faded slowly to a dull prickling. From far away, Dante heard his inquisitor speak.

"On your own head be it."

The memory ended there, but there were many others to fill in the blank spots. By the time Sniping 101 had come, he had stopped responding entirely. The interrogator, flanked
by a pair of guards had been about to drag him off again when the other RAIDERS had appeared from a side corridor and sprayed the corridor with blaster fire. The guards had taken hits in the chest, and were instantly KIA. The interrogator had taken hits in the arm and legs, and was trying to crawl away, leaving a thick trail of brown-tinted blood in her wake, when Dante had emptied half a clip into the alien's face. By the time he was done, the torturer could hardly be said to have a face. And he was free.

Now, as the small fire team made their way through the deserted corridors towards the distant sound of blaster fire, one thought dominated Dante's mind. Time for a little payback.

Jager lent against a wall in the dark and terribly overcrowded pantry with the rest of the unfortunate recruits, with whom he had be assigned with and Raider squad. He still had no idea what was going on, or what this operation was about... frankly he didn't care either way but it left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

For the entire shuttle ride, he scanned his fellow occupants. Some he remembered a few during basic, other's he had never seen, there was something about going on a mission with a bunch of complete strangers... even though they pushed the belief that these people were "Your brothers in arms" they were all just faces, and if the fodder hit the exhaust port Jager had no idea who he could really trust.

As quickly as these thoughts had surfaced another quickly replaced it,

"The people standing next to you are your new family, you may have never met them and you might never see them again, but you will come to rely on them to save your life when the time calls for it...."

Jager had heard this from one of his countless instructors during his training, and no sooner had this had run through the confines of his mind then a familiar face stepped through the door.

Aeos... of all the people to appear, had casually stepped into the pantry. Jager along with the others who were in his basic training stared with complete surprise at her arrival. Within seconds of her arrival, one of the Raiders shouted something and rushed towards her before his squad leader yanked him back. Quickly the Twi'lek that was with the Raiders took his place and grabbed Aeos by the throat, and with that the room went deafly quiet as everyone placed a hand or readied a blaster. 

This wasn't going to end well in any account, and Jager was ready with a game plan. Drop to the floor, wait for the initial fire to die down, finish anyone who's still standing.... then run. This plan never came to fruition as a voice from a corner said something that made the pissed off Twi'lek change her tune and lower Aeos back to the floor.

Jager sank to the floor and sighed with relief as the situation calmed slightly. Taking a deep breath he got back up and as Aeos began to explain the situation. Jager listened half heartedly to the brief story about undercover officers and intel. It sounded hollow, but everyone else seemed to be buying it so Jager decided to roll with it.

“Which of those are mine?” she asked pointing over to where the recruits were hudlling together.

“Quillia, Kats, Maze, Aeos is your squad leader, feel free to make your way over to her,” Marka ordered with a small grin at the two nervous females.

“The Kray, Daesh and Boa will be with the Raiders as well,” he concluded before making his way over to his squad, and Aeos.

Jager puzzled as to who he was with, taking a quick look at the people he sort of remembered who were with Aeos... and the complete strangers who had only moments before attacked Aeos. Without pausing to think he moved slowly towards Aeos group. He was determined to survive his first mission and somehow hanging around a really pissed of Twi'lek and a bunch of people that they found in a pantry didnt seem the way to go about doing that.

The Raiders had made a right mess of Kami’s complement of prison staff. Sighing, she rolled over the nearest corpse with her boot, taking in the contorted expression on the woman’s face. Strangled by hand. Can’t say she blamed them, after a month or so of torture at the hands of these guards, revenge was definitely in order.

One of Kami’s mercs shifted uncomfortably at her shoulder as he surveyed the virtual killing ground before them, “Think they’re still around?”

Kami strode forward to push another dead guard from his post at the security station, ignoring the question. The man slumped unceremoniously to the ground, leaving a streak of blood along the breadth of the control station. Sliding into the vacated seat, she regarded the slashed wiring beneath the console. Crude…yet effective, this would take some time to remedy.

Turning back to her team, she tilted her head down the corridor towards the interior of the cell block, “Spread out, check for survivors. Report back to me as you go.”

The mercenaries nodded, a few spitting on the ground in obvious disgust at the fate of their comrades as they moved off into the virtual blackness with extreme caution.

Kami examined the console in greater detail, noting that although the Raiders had shut down basic security measures to allow themselves out of the cell block, individual prison cell settings were still in place, keeping the rest of Worga’s detainees in place. Swiping her hand over the access panel, she quickly typed in her access code and overrode the system, causing each and every one of the cell doors to hiss open.

There was a moment’s pause, before a scream of warning sounded further down the hall, followed by the commencement of blaster fire as Kami’s team was abruptly assaulted by enraged captives. Taking no notice of the continuing shrieks of distress, Kami fingers flew over the console, deactivating the base’s expansive security camera network. Her work done for now, she came back to her feet and shouldered her rifle.

She pulled back on the trigger, unleashing the destructive power of the weapon onto what remained of the console, turning it into a pile of superheated slag. Satisfied that none of her smugglers would be able to use what remained of the panel, Kami spun on her heel and strode past the heavy blast door separating the expansive cell block from the rest of the base. Pausing briefly to lock the door from the outside, she continued up towards the west block.

Pasck was waiting for her to show herself, of that much she was sure. The lizard had been in the perfect position to snatch Ragnarok away until Kami had made herself known and destroyed his reputation with the Hutt Lord. Now, in the Trandoshan’s mind, he would have the pleasure of succeeding in his mission, and humiliating Kami in the process.

Grimacing, Kami changed directions to head towards Lodur’s last known position. She had to report to the Zabrak lieutenant that the Raiders were dealt with, save Snipes and Merrick, who were too recognizable to avoid detection despite Kami’s efforts. The rest of the prison staff who had been personally involved with their military prisoners were dead, the identities of the VE soldiers with them. She had little sympathy for the fate of her crew, murderers and thieves all. The truth of the matter was that their suffering gave her a small degree of comfort. It was the only way she could currently lash out at Worga and gain some semblance of justice for Eviscares death.

Clenching her jaw to stave off her emotion, Kami ducked her head, forcing herself to hurry. ‘Lodur…Pasck…and then Worga,’ she chanted quietly to herself, the death cries of her loyal followers behind her dimming with every step…

Aeos’ eyes lingered on Kami’s jet-black hair as she briskly walked away.  This was suicidal and they both knew it. Her blue eyes glanced at the datapad Kami handed her. The details would have to wait however for the HQ. They were still walking as her thoughts were dancing across fleeting memories and briefings. Sighing she tucked the datapad in at the back of her belt underneath all her clothes.  Currently, she and Quillia were skulking around the semi-deserted corridors filled with the occasional body or two.

“Where are we heading?” Quillia asked.

Aeos hid her small smile away at the private. The new recruit was quickly getting over the shock of the previous event that shook her nerves. Aeos could only hope the private wouldn’t be so jumpy the next time. 

“We’re heading for the throne room, the reason I spread everyone out was to start clearing the corridors of unwanted guests, I’m not keen on being surrounded,-“

“Boss, what’s the position?” Jinx’s tiny voice suddenly crackled on her Com-Link.

“Heading down the south corridor to the throne room, but haven’t engaged in combat really,” she replied while pushing Quillia to keep up the pace.

“Ah, yeah, we passed through there earlier, clearing the south barracks, listen though, Jager and I saw Pasck about four minutes ago, with three guards heading at the throne room as well, we’ve already secured the north and west doors leading into the room, I bet you my salary that Worga’s project is bound to be hidden in the way of the throne rooms, you need any help?”


“No, continue clearing, I’ll deal with Pasck,-out”
“Roger that,”  Jinx replied affirmatively before disconnecting.
“Q, keep to the walls,” Aeos beckoned while she stuffed her Com-link away

The flame-head immediately headed over to the wall, with Aeos following her on her heels shortly.  They dogged the pillars and cameras of the halls for another few minutes. Far up ahead Aeos could distinctly recognize the elaborate marble carvings that gave way to the entrance of the south door into the throne room. Judging from the shrieks that suddenly sounded through the eerily deserted corridors; Pasck has just discarded the few guards Worga placed within the room.

“Kami, I’m meeting Pasck in the throne room, hope you’ll play your part, contact Merr and Snipes” Aeos muttered into the Com-link she pulled out again.

They had now reached a three-way corridor with the entrance right up ahead. Luckily the doors were half-way closed.  Aeos crouched at the corner that marked the end of the south corridor.

“Q, I suggest you get rid of that med-pack, it will be drawing a bit of attention, try and play along with whatever's gonna happen next” Aeos ordered while her eyes kept fishing for details that would aid to her cause in the current enviroment.

The medic nodded dully and disappointed and started dismounting the backpack from her shoulders.

“Ready? Follow my example,” Aeos ordered while pulling herself up.

This was suicide. Once again the words played through Aeos’ thoughts while she nears the slightly opened door of the throne room. From inside the rough textured voice of the trandoshan Kami came to hate was cursing in a collection of dialects Aeos didn’t even bother to follow. She grabbed Quillia’s pistol while smiling apologetically at the Private. They were at the edge of the opening. The stark orange light flooded the small gap in a misty pink hue of smoke.  She peeked around the edge of the door for a quick glance. She vaguely recognized the trandoshan while his back was turned to her, searching the walls for something.

With little thought Aeos flicked both her own and Quillia’s weapon inside the room, drawing Pasck’s attention along with his three guards. Her hand recoiled as a plasma bolt slammed into the space where her hand hovered seconds before. Aeos’ eyes widened, that pure instinct of accuracy might be a bit more daunting then she was prepared to take on.

“Who’s there?” his heavily accented voice called out confident and secured.

“I am on your side, Sir,” Aeos replied back keeping her voice levels controlled and hard.

“I doubt that, show your face,”  he snarled.

Heavy boots was crunching against the floor as he neared the entrance rapidly. He clawed at the edge of the door and yanked it open with a force.  His eyes glowed at them dangerously from above as his frame shadowed their petite heights.

“I might have something you want,” Aeos muttered plainly, her gaze meeting his with feigned respect.

“I doubt it, “he replied raising the barrel end of his blaster pistol at Quillia first.

The Private stifled a surprised shriek, though Aeos now knew she had little time for talking.

“So, Ragnarok means nothing to you?”

The transdoshan’s eyes whipped towards her glance, narrowing with recognition.

“Whats in it for you?”

“Loot and the death of that bitch Sharpe,” Aeos replied, relying a bit on political game play.

Pasck paused for a second; his hand wavered before it pulled the pistol back.
“You’re one of Worga’s guards,” Pasck snapped rapidly at her. His hideous face contorting in a grimace.

“I work for money, not Worga,”
“And this?”

“What are they?” Aeos asked smartly pointing to the three guards who have continued to search through the ridiculously lavish room. 
Pasck grunted in reply.

“What do you know have about Ragnarok?”  he finally caved.
“I work for money,”  Aeos replied stifling the smirk threatening to rise. He would need her now.

She pulled out the small hold-out pistol she kept strapped to her upper thigh, followed by extracting the datapad from her belt.

Activating the datapad, Aeos showed it to the slight surprised Pasck who immediately made a grab for it.

Aeos pulled it back rapidly and pressed the gun-point of her pistol against the datapad’s screen.

“Though you might do that, as I said, I don’t give a shit about this thing; I’m here for the loot and Sharpe, whom I believe is on her way here right-“

“How would you know that?”

“I told her to come here, some explosion or something,” Aeos replied smirking this time.

She was playing with fire, testing Pasck’s temper. Yet knowledge was power, and it seemed knowing what Pasck hated and sought was something very beneficial.


“May I send her out to keep lookout?” Aeos inquired gesturing with a shrug of her shoulders at Quillia who had gone so white in the face now that Aeos was afraid something fatally was wrong.


Pasck allowed the briefest of nods, and Aeos didn’t waste time in pushing Quillia outside. Hopefully the Private would meet up with Kami and inform her of Aeos’ game with fire.  Pasck turned his glance away from the retreating back of Quillia back at Aeos. He extended a hand.

“I’ll take that,” he grunted angrily at having his time wasted.

“Till I see Sharpe’s blood on this floor, and had my share of the loot,” Aeos muttered standing firm.


Pasck let out a violent curse while he slammed his open fist against the wall. His patience was clearly wearing thin.

“And I do think Sharpe’s vocal chords might be off better use alive if you’re planning on getting through that wall,” Aeos muttered hastily. She couldn’t allow Pasck to shoot at Kami the moment he set eyes on the infuriating ex-imperial.

OOC:

Okay guys, Raiders,Jesters you lot at this point are still clearing Pasck's men in the corridors and barracks. I havent seen any action really yet Also, Kami said she's gonna take care of the  the scene in the throne room that will take place shortly. So, Merrick sit tight  Merrick made me post in my current sick and miserable condition, something about axe and blood, but yeah, post is not up to scratch.

I also made a cute little map which I will post on the squad topics

Marka stood with a rather blank expression on his face, which was nothing out of the norm for him. Though this time, beneath the surface, he was remarkably impressed at the young PFC’s skills. She’d sauntered up to the guards, and within moments had cut them down and left their lifeless corpses without a spot of remorse. A ferocious Twi’lek... Namyr seemed to have been reborn, though somewhat less voluptuous and eccentric.

There was a sense of praise and respect already radiating through the squad. The older members of the squad, Marka included, were comforted by the fact that they had at least one confident and capable recruit. The new folks seemed somewhat inspired by Daesha’s actions. This made for an efficient squad.

Though it wasn’t long before the sound of blaster fired echoed through the halls, snapping them all back to the matter at hand. They had to hunt down Pasck’s men, and Pasck himself if it came to it, and eliminate them. Luckily for Marka, having spent time in Worga’s service, he would be able to identify which of the combatants were Pasck’s men. Worga’s loyalists would appreciate the help, and for a time they would be seen as allies. But in the end, Marka mused, they were all going to perish anyway. Though they were posing as Worga’s men, ultimately their souls belonged to the Empire, and for some they always would.

The group rounded a corner carefully, the screeching of blaster shots racing down at them from the opposite end of the hall. There was a T-intersection, Marka and the Raiders at the stem, with the fire whistling along the top. But who was on what side was impossible to tell from such a distance, and Namyr knew it as well. She hesitated for a moment, and as such so did the entire squad.

Marka thought for a moment, trying to figure out some devilishly daring plan to tell the two apart and ambush Pasck’s men. But nothing was coming to mind. No epiphanies, no revelations; faced with the sole option of having a quick peek for himself. That would, of course, open him up to fire, but he hoped that both sides would be far too preoccupied with staying alive to pay him much notice.

“Nams,” he called, deciding upon the only course of action, “I’ll go have a look. I’ll let you know who’s who.”

She nodded, and patted Marka on the shoulder as he moved past her; familiarity of an old friendship.

Striding slowly towards the end of the hallway, Marka flattened himself against the left wall, inching further. The blasts were coming more frequently, and the air started to sizzle as the walls were peppered with smoking holes and steel was melted away in the slop. Taking a few wary steps further, Marka spotted the first combatant, and immediately he recognised him as a Worga loyalist.

Drendo, a horribly slimy Rodian, was widely known amongst the mercs and criminals as the most blindly devoted member of Worga’s staff. There was no way he’d fallen in with Pasck; which was lucky for Marka, as he’d barely had to put himself in harm’s way at all. He jogged back to the squad and informed them which side needed wiping out.

Kraytirous had already unhooked a flashbang grenade, with a sly grin forming across his features. What he planned to do with it was anyone’s guess, but Marka had confidence, and judging by the fact that she let Krayt lead the squad down the hall, so did Namyr.

OOC:

Horrible post, but yeah, it gets us involved. I hope.

Kami found Lodur shortly after leaving the prison block. The large Zabrak mercenary had donned his heavy spiked armor since she left him, and was an impressive figure to behold even with the soot and blood streaked across his face.

“The Imps?” He asked as soon as Kami was within hearing range.

“Dead, the leaders are still free though,” Kami gladly took the offered flask from the older lieutenant, swallowing a large mouthful of the strong whiskey inside “Lost my team, the bastards let the rest of the scum down there loose before they left. I locked what’s left of them in there but we’ll have to deal with them later.”

Lodur scowled, “Let them starve for all I care. Pasck comes first.”

“Speaking of which,” Kami tilted her head in the direction of the throne room, “One of my troopers has the lizard himself momentarily stalled, shall we go pay a visit?”

Lodur tensed, a dangerous glint swimming into his amber eyes at the mention of his long-time enemy, “Lead on.”

*        *        *        *        *        *

Quilla was waiting for the two lieutenants as they moved cautiously up the deserted hallway towards Aeos’s position. Lodur had sent his small team off to aid the others in quelling the rest of Pasck’s raging invasion force with instructions to keep the pair updated on their progress.

The new VE recruit visibly jumped as she saw Kami, before having the sense enough to straighten in a mercenaries salute.

“Aeos has Pasck inside,” Quilla informed her, her voice calm despite her obvious discomfort, “They’re waiting for you.”

Trying desperately to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach, Kami swallowed, glanced over at Lodur and then curled her hand about the grip of the pistol strapped to her right thigh. Gesturing with her chin for Quilla to bring up the rear, she forced abruptly leaden feet forwards towards the elaborate arched doorway of the throne room.

The end of three blaster rifles leveled on her immediately as she stepped around the corner and into the sight of the occupants of the room. Coming to an abrupt standstill to avoid getting riddled with holes, Kami slowly brought both hands up before her in a gesture of compliance, her green gaze immediately locking onto Pasck.

The Trandoshan bared his teeth in a reptilian grin as he glanced between Lodur and Kami, before letting out a hiss of amusement. Aeos stood at his side, her blue gaze pleading, her pistol pointed towards the datapad in her hand.

“Sharrpppeeee…” Pasck took a step forward, blatantly ignoring Lodur as the Zabrak tensed at the movement, “Nice of you to join us.”

Not willing to risk meeting Aeos’s gaze again, Kami focused on Pasck, “Well we’ve got plenty of time to spare Pasck. Those simpletons you brought with you didn’t put up much of a fight.”

The Trandoshan growled at the insult, “Stupid bitch! You think I don’t know how you and yours are struggling? You were but a worm of human flesh when I first earned by rank here. This base is my playground, and you’re in way over your head.”

“Then why are you still here Pasck?” Kami let an edge of humor taint her words, “I doubt you were waiting for the pleasure of our company.”

Pasck growled again, subconsciously curling his claws into his scaled palms, “I’ll tear your head from your shoulders…”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Kami interrupted him, intentionally relaxing her stance, “Not if you intend to find Ragnarok.”

Pasck snarled, stomping forward until he towered over Kami, his red eyes boring into hers, “Open the door.”

“Or what?” Kami arched an eyebrow at the giant lizard, “I’ve got all the cards here Pasck, and you know it. Kill me and you can try clawing through that door until the rest of my men get her and cut you down.”

“Maybe so…” Pasck went dangerously still, the only visible warning Kami had on the impending attack, “…but at least I’ll have the pleasure of carving your pelt from your bones!”

The Trandoshan launched himself at Kami, his gleaming claws aiming for the soft flesh of her face.

The room erupted into chaos.

Lodur swept forward in one fluid movement, his armored forearm deflecting the death blow meant for Kami. Unhindered now as Lodur grappled with his stronger foe, Kami rolled behind Pasck’s protective bulk, coming up pistol in hand. Her first shot took one of Pasck’s guards in the throat, sending him sprawling backwards in a heap onto the ornate marble floor. Quilla’s shot hit the guards comrade in the gut, a glancing blow that was rectified as Aeos shot from the other side of the room, burning a deep hole into the mercenaries exposed side. The final guard dropped his weapon, his hands rising in a blatant gesture of surrender as he realized his sudden predicament. Kami didn’t flinch, her second shot landing squarely between the unarmed guards eyes.

Meanwhile, Lodur and Pasck were on the floor, each straining to gain the upper hand on the other. Aeos came to Kami’s side as the three female troopers watched helplessly, unable to aid Lodur while he was intertwined with the Trandoshan. Pasck had managed to sink two of his claws into Lodur’s neck, and was slowly increasing the flow of blood trickling down beneath the Zabrak’s armor. In obvious agony, Lodur let out a scream out outrage, lashing out with sudden fury as he heaved Pasck off his body.

All three troopers fired, tearing deep gashes along Pasck’s scaled hide even as the traitor lieutenant attempted to re-launch himself back into the fight. He roared in uncontrolled fury and pain, his bloodied teeth bared as his body gave way beneath him.

Kami stooped to aid Lodur back to his feet as Aeos and Quilla walked forward, their blasters still leveled on the twitching Trandoshan.

“You idiot…” Pasck’s head slumped sidewards to catch Lodur’s gaze even as the pool of blood about him grew in volume, “You stupid fool…”

Lodur grunted, leaning heavily on Kami as he spat onto the ground at Pasck’s side, “Quiet traitor. Just die.”

Pasck laughed, a wheezing sound that quickly turned into a sickening gurgle, “Traitor indeed, but not the only one in your ranks.” He managed to flick his fading red eyes to Kami, “You have them all fooled don’t you Sharpe? But I know all about you. Vast Empire elite… steadfast until death. You may look like one of us… but I know where your true loyalty lies.”

Aeos pulled back on her trigger, firing three rounds directly into the Trandoshan’s head before he could speak again. But the damage was already done.

Lodur stiffened in Kami’s arms, flaying widely towards one of the guard’s discarded rifles nearby. Cursing bitterly, Kami spun her pistol about, before slamming the butt into the Zabrak’s head with all her might. Lodur slumped to the floor, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as darkness took him.

Allowing herself another moment to curse, Kami addressed Aeos and Quilla, “You two better get back to the fighting. I’ll stay here and deal with him when he wakes up.”

Aeos nodded slowly, glancing one last time at Pasck’s corpse before gesturing to Quilla to follow her from the room. Biting back another string of swear words, Kami knelt on the floor to allow herself a moment’s respite. Just when things seemed to be going well…

Kraytirous' hand was tightly clasped on the small blaster pistol he had found. After careful inspection he figured out that the pistol was a Power 5 Heavy blaster pistol. The powerful weapon had less ammo then Kraytirous would have liked, but whenever he shot someone the limb or body part exploded in an overheated orgy of blood and gore. His first test of the weapon occured after he'd witnessed that suicidal charge of a barabal into a group of ten Merc soldiers. The barabal amazingly took down all ten, with Kraytirous only there to witness the lizard's eventual fall. As soon as it did, he'd run up to it to find it's body scorched and burned, his basic medical training telling him that it was beyond saving. He'd shot the poor lizard in the head with the pistol, causing it to gorily splatter all over the corridor. Conveniently enough, one of the Merc patrols ran up and saw him do so, immediately congratulating him. They'd patted him on the back and told him to follow them, so he did.

Kraytirous' was walking with a group of about 5 mercs, all hunting around the place for any freed prisoners they could find. To Kraytirous' dismay, they were talking about several kills they had already succeeded in executing. But he tried to push the broiling confusion in his mind, trying to think whether those people could have been his allies, to the back of his mind. When they'd wandered upon a group of several Raider recruits that Kraytirous remembered from the group they had initially landed with. There were four of them. The mercs quickly took cover and so did Kraytirous. He was at the back of the group, his pistol trained in a general straight direction. When the mercs started opening fire, Kraytirous did also. But not on his allies.

He shot a burning bolt at the closest merc, striking him between the shoulder blades. Whatever organ it had hit, the bolt splattered bone shrapnel and molten guts towards Kraytirous. He quickly ducked behind the crate he had found again, a wet splat emanating as the remains of the merc struck the durasteel crate. Kraytirous then stood again, his blaster aimed at another merc. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, probably causing his finger to twitch and make the sensitive trigger pull and the blaster to splatter the man's forearm. He fell to the floor screaming in pain. Another shot striking him in the chest silenced him. Before any emotion could distance Kraytirous, he'd found that the third merc had turned towards him and began to open fire.

OOC:

Just to clarify, Two mercs left, ones shooting at me. I don't really care who replies, I didn't specify. We're making our way FROM the prison block, we passed the kitchen and we're on the corridor where Aeos and Quillia had been when she made the map.

OOC:

This starts from Voth's last post and goes up to what happens when the Raiders reunite.

"Voth?" Dante asked, not liking what he saw. The alien RAIDER had snarled out loud, a disquietingly feral sound, when one of the fresh recruits, Kraytirous had pulled out a flash-bang. Now he was crouched in a heap on the floor, his eyes darting left and right and his jaw half open. A thick spool of saliva snaked its way down the Barabel's long jaw and landed on the ground with an unpleasantly wet smack.

"Voth?"

There was no response. Staring into the trooper's eyes, Dante was disquieted to see that they had turned a deep black. There was no sign of intelligence in those thin, slit-like eyes. Shaking his head slightly, he tried a different approach.

"Private Voth, respond. That's an order, trooper."

When the lizard remained silent, Dante reached out and tapped the Private in an attempt to break him out of his near-catatonic state. The response was instantaneous. One taloned claw shot out and grabbed the Corporal's arm, breaking the grip, before shooting out and throwing him bodily into a wall. He hit hard, felt pain fill his chest, and heard screams and blaster fire fill the air. Dante tried to order the Raiders to cease fire, to stop firing on the rogue trooper, but only managed to produce a croak before collapsing again. His vision blurred for a moment, but he forced himself to get to his knees. Breathing hurt, but nothing vital seemed to be broken. Picking up the DC-17 pistol, which had flown out of his hand during the attack, he scanned the scene.

No hostiles, but Voth and Kraytirous missing. Stang.

One of the remaining troopers walked up to Dante.

"Are you all right, sir?"

"I'll be fine, X-Ray. Where the hell is Kraytirous?"

"We're not sure," the Lance Corporal replied, his voice grim, "but he ran after Voth. He went..."

The trooper stopped mid-sentence as blaster fire came echoing down from the hallways.

"Sithspawn."

Dante took off at a dead run, followed moments later by the other two RAIDERS. Time was the enemy; Voth could easily be dead by the time they arrived. Dante felt a durasteel weight drop into his stomach as the blaster fire slackened, then ceased.  Holding up a hand, he  heard the clang of boots on durasteel. Whoever it was, they probably weren't going to be friendly.

The first sign of the trooper's presence was a deep gash carved into a durasteel alloy wall.

One of his knives?

Dante allowed himself a flicker of hope, then brought his emotions back under control. Waving the other Raiders forwards, he clicked off the safety on his commandeered Deece and brought the pistol up to firing height.

Many of the lighting units had been disabled by the base-wide fighting, which seemed to be dying down, and only a third of the overhead lights were working. One flickered on and off, casting the Raiders into stark white light one moment and near-darkness the next. Squinting through the gloom, Dante saw a long streak of blood on the floor leading up to and through a half-slagged doorseal.

No...

Abandoning stealth, the Raiders ran to the doorseal. The blood was unmistakably alien, and there were dark red splatters on the walls and even the ceiling. Walking slowly forwards, Dante felt something soft and yielding under his boot instead of the cold durasteel. He didn't need to look down to know what it was.

"Human, guard based on what's left of him. Claw marks on his torso, throwing knife wound in his chest. Must be Voth's work."

There's still hope.

Much as Dante disliked the Barabel, he was still a fellow trooper and RAIDER.

Looking at the smashed portal, Dante gestured at X-Ray, then at the door with a clenched fist. The carbonized metal gave way with the second blow from the Lance Corporal's rifle butt, and the Raiders filed in.

It wasn't pretty. Voth lay there in the corner, surrounded by sprays of blood. He was slumped against a nearby wall with multiple holes punched in his thick torso and armour, and some of his internal organs were hanging out. All around him were dead guards, some with massive slashes in their throats, others with knife wounds and the fatal weapons still in their bodies.

Looks like he took down half a dozen of the Huttspawn with him.

Dante was not a religious man, but he recited from memory a phrase he had been taught by a retired clone trooper many years before.

"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la."

Reaching for the fallen RAIDER's neck, he performed what was becoming an unbearably familiar ritual. A quick twist, and Voth's dog-tags came away. The trooper, incredibly, looked like he was laughing, his jaw open slightly and eyes staring as though straining for something greater than himself. The back of his skull was missing entirely, spread across the wall behind.

"They shot him to pieces," one of the Raiders began, his voice furious "and then shot him again to make sure he was dead. The cowards."

"We should go." Dante said, his voice quiet.

They had begun moving towards their destination when the doorseal they were making their way to hissed open. A Wookie roared in defiance, and red energy hissed through the air towards the Imperials. Ducking behind a crate, Dante held down the trigger, and was rewarded with a loud scream of pain. He didn't stop, taking a certain pleasure in the pain he was inflicting. This one's for Voth, Sithspawn. he thought, then fired again. The last one alive, a dying Bothan, slumped over, twitched, and fell still. There were a series of shots from behind a crate, followed by an alien shriek of pain.

We didn't fire...

A figure stepped out from behind a crate, and found a quartet of blaster barrels pointed at its centre of mass.

"I'm a RAIDER, don't shoot!"

Dante held up a hand.

"Kraytirous."

"Yes?"

"What in the name of Xendor were you thinking? First you chase after Voth, then you almost get torn to pieces by friendly fire when you tag along with..."

Dante stopped, ignoring the looks of the other Raiders. When he spoke again, his voice was cold.

"Traitor."

"What?" X-Ray exclaimed. "Dante what are you..."

Wordlessly, Dante gestured to the Private's heavy blaster pistol. The barrel was covered in splatters of recognizably alien blood. Dark yellow-brown Barabel blood.

"You shot Voth, didn't you? You, not those mercs, killed him."

His face suddenly pale, the Private began to stammer.

"I can explain..."