Snipes let his head lay against the back of the speeders seat. He stared up into the night sky, cigarette burning in his mouth. The adrenaline and anger had faded and all he could come up with now was how incredibly fucked he was. His mind kept racing back to it, no matter what else he thought about. Angel had told him off, and would probably not want him tagging along anymore. Snipes had shirked his duties for the High Council for a moment of personal revenge and satisfaction. There had to be a way to recover from this. There was always a way.

“Hey, asshole, we’re there.” Snipes let his head role to the side and looked at Jager, the driver.

Snipes sighed and got up, levering himself over the side of the speeder, “Go ahead and take it home, I just don’t care right now.” Snipes didn’t wait for a reply, and instead turned around and wandered into the port.

It was always a pain to get in, especially at night. Snipes used his ID card, then put in a password. It took the machine longer than he’d like to process them, but eventually it did let him in. He wandered aimlessly for a few minutes, unable to remember where he was or what he was looking for, like there was a mental block, it wasn’t unusual, it was just much hated. He finally remembered and let himself into his docking bay.

The docking bay was dark, but lights near the loading hatch on his ship let him see everything he cared about, at this moment that was only how to get into his citadel cruiser and to his room. He strode towards it, it was a good forty, fifty feet away, reached up and opened the hatch. Inside the ship was well lit, the lights activating as he opened it. He sighed again, he wasn’t sure why this made him unhappy, but it did.

The path through the ship to his room was quick and easy, the top deck, the whole room was just a low dome of about thirty feet in diameter. Around the circumference were all manner of boxes, desks and piles of junk, along with one small cot. In the exact middle was a large chair and a stand next to it. Snipes threw himself into this chair. On the stand were two things, an empty bottle and a remote, he grabbed the remote and turned off the lights, then tossed the bottle towards the turbolift leading to the room.

There was another bottle, always another bottle, under the stand, Snipes pulled that out and opened it with his left hand as his right made an effort to call Rizzit up on his datapad. It took a few moments, and in those few moments Snipes was able to take several long pulls from the cheap whiskey.

By the time Rizzit answered Snipes buzz had been renewed and he’d found a way out of his problems. He wasn’t sure how his old friend would feel, but sometimes you needed to alienate a good friend to maintain, well, Snipes wasn’t sure what he was maintaining, but it seemed important.

“Snipes, I’m busy, what do you need.” Snipes former squad leader looked tired, and old. Well, older than one his age was supposed to be.

“Making my report mister, Sir.” Snipes was nearly slurring, not quite, but it was close. “Somebody needs to go down and talk to the warden in the civilian prison, I don’t think he’s culpable, at least not knowingly, but he might know something, and if he doesn’t the gang that screwed up my man might. Jester I’m not sure about.

“Concerning that, I need a favor. I plan to tag along with Jester for awhile, they seem to be on the right track. Logistics and my own investigation would be a lot simpler if you tossed me on their roster.”

“Snipes. I’m not sure if I can do that.”

“Oh you can,” Snipes took another pull from the recently opened bottle resting between his legs, “And I need it done tonight. Think you can pull it off?”

Rizzit sighed and let his head rest in his hand, “Yeah, sure, Snipes. Look, I’ll get back to you, try and get some sleep.” Rizzit hadn’t bothered to look up, either disappointed or tired, Snipes wasn’t sure which.

It had been no more than five minutes since Jegora had left his office that a knock came at Angel's door.  Sighing heavily, the Jester squad leader set down the datapad containing the report to Cosmic and Rizzit he had just started. What the krell is it now,he said inwardly. Rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes, Angel snapped in an authoritative tone "Come!"

The door to his office slid open with a whoosh and a solider wearing the rank of Private First Class stepped in. A folder was gently placed on the front side of his desk, most likely the trooper's orders. Not bothering to look up from his report, Angel waited until the new arrival addressed him.

"Sir!" A female voice announced, "Private First Class Stone reporting for duty."

Arching a single eyebrow at the tone of the new arrival's voice, Angel looked up from his desk to size up the rookie, who now stood at perfect attention. If there's one thing the Academy DOES teach well, it's standing like a totem pole, he mused to himself.She was rather short in stature, at least smaller than most of the amazon-esque femtroopers he had seen. Her slender figure fit well in the duty uniform, and hair blonder than Angel's gave way to perfectly tanned skin and a pair of sparkling blue eyes.

Reclining back in his chair, Angel gave one of his half-smiles to the woman. "You can drop the sir here, Private." He began. "You can call me Angel, Sarge, Boss or anything you really think I'll acknowledge to." Rocking forawrd, Angel used the chair's momentum and got to his feet. Stifling a yawn that suddenly appeared in his mouth, he stretched his arms above his head, before continuing his greeting.

"So I see you're one of the bright new recruits from the Academy." Angel added, grabbing the folder and leafing through Stone's personnel file. "Well, you've been placed in the best squad in the Corps. I'd take the time to get to know you better, but we tend to have trouble keeping the greenies in this squad."

Angel let this last sentence hang in the air for a moment, making sure the private understood the implications. In truth, it was because many had been transferred to other duties soon upon their arrival, but he might as well put a bit of fear in the new kid. Considering they were about to embark deep into Hutt Space where the Remnant and the New Republic were both active, a little fear induced caution just might help save her life. Yet the new trooper stood stoic and unphased by Angel's comment. Her face remained placid and professional, and she only responded with a "I'll try not to disappoint sir...I mean boss."

"Very well. You'll be bunking with Brightstar. Drop your gear off there quickly. We have a briefing in 30 minutes, and we're leaving 30 minutes after that." Angel commanded, dropping back into his authoritative tone.

Without another word, the trooper spun on her heel and marched out of the room. Smirking to himself, Angel returned to his chair and resumed his report.


**              **                **              **

"Ylesia. A planet controlled by the Hutts and used mainly in the export of spice. However it is now used mainly as a spaceport for smugglers, criminals, and most of the seedy parts of Hutt society." A large green and blue sphere hovered over the holoprojector in the Jester briefing room.  The squad st in their usual spots, each attentively listening to Angel's description of their next mission. Much to his dismay, however, Angel noticed an extremely hungover looking Snipes leaning against the doorway to the room, a cigarette clenched firmly between his lips.

Deciding to ignore him for the time being, Angel continued. "Round about the time of the Battle of Yavin, the spice facilities were destroyed by a Rebel Alliance sabotage team. The Hutts retained control of the planet, but most of it's usefulness was gone. Reports indicated that the Rebels were assisted by a resistance group on the planet comprised of former slaves who had escaped their chemically enforced imprisonment and labor. With what we found out from Jaina, we believe Frozt was a member of this group."

Pressing a button on the holoprojector, it zoomed in on a small city. "This is Colony Two, an original name, I know. The second largest city on Ylesia. Jaina's report puts Frozt's home here, just outside the city-center." Angel put his index finger through the hologram to point out the location. "The chances are slim he left anything there, but we need to try and locate some records of his dealings. Colony Two is also the headquarters of the resistance group, so there's a good chance we'll end up fighting if we go in guns blazing."

A smile spread across the faces of Jager and Jori, as they were both eager to get back into combat. "Believe me, this is not what we want. If Jaina was telling the truth, we could have half a city come down on us, and that would make for a really bad day."

"SO." Angel said with some emphasis to wake those getting bored with the logistics. "We will land in the surrounding rain forest, and use our speederbikes to enter the city. We get in, we scout the place, Kip will slice into any computers he has while we secure the building. Any resistance will be dealt with appropriate force. The planet's rotation makes for 10 hours days, which leaves us less than five hours to get in and out."

The display shifted once again to show the Jesters their equipment. "We'll be taking the Sentinel shuttle, which will carry nine Mobquet Overracer Speeder Bikes. Our mimetic armor is still having the bugs worked out, however, so we'll be in Storm Commando armor. Our full weapons compliment is already loaded onto the shuttle, so grab a quick bite and get down to the docking bay in half an hour. Dismissed."

The members of Jester squad started to rouse from their seats, Angel noticing that Brightstar and the new girl were already chatting away. Meanwhile, Snipes had made his way over to the squad leader, a datapad in hand.

"Bad news for you." The Sergeant said. "Looks like you're officially stuck with me for awhile."

Reading the note from Rizzit on the datapad Snipes had handed him, Angel couldn't help but scowl. Tossing the datapad on the table next to him, he grabbed two handfuls of Snipes' jacket and pulled him face to face. "You screw this up like you did last night, and I'll be using your nuts for punching bags, you got that?"

The notorious bad-boy of the Army just smiled in return. "Keep grabbing my nice jacket like that, and I might have to hold you to that." Snipes fired back.

Letting out an annoyed grunt, Angel pushed Snipes back as he released his grip. This just keeps getting better and better...

OOC:

You have your orders, feel free to move us along to the planet. See the wiki for details on our firearms loadout, and select yours accordingly.

Snipes sighed. He’d ostracized his one real friend it seemed. At this point it was unavoidable. His first betrayal of his friend was his fault, stomping a useful person to death had been a choice; his second betrayal had not entirely been his choice. He needed to see where the Jester squad went to finish his job; he had to further push away a man that had been one of his few true friends. He wasn’t happy about it, but also he didn’t see anyway he could have done it better. Angel was as hard a man as Snipes, and grating on him gave Snipes no real pleasure. But it had to be done. The conundrum went around and around in his head as he settled down to taking up three seats in the ship. He went over and over in his head how he could have found a way to being here and not being on Angel’s bad side. The only option was to not have killed the spying woman. Then Snipes would have seen no satisfaction. The problem kept circling in his head and he couldn’t find anyone at fault. He had hoped Angel had done the same, but Snipes brain worked differently than most, he had expected Angels reaction.  So he accepted that he was not truly part of the squad, just dead weight.

Despite this he’d brought his Storm Commando armor, his old RAIDERS equipment. It was tiger striped in a thick blood red paint and the helmet held the words: ‘Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?’. The dark blood red would turn to black in the dark; outside of the dark it gave him a menacing presence.

Snipes wasn’t really enjoying this. He wasn’t at all, he put on a boyish grin, held himself up proudly and swaggered like he always did. However he knew he wasn’t part of the squad. The woman, well, the woman that had been there before the new recruit, he thought her name was Brightstar or some such, treated him with a barely concealed disdain and generally avoided him; as did the rest, even Jager stayed slightly clear of him, and the only time Snipes saw Angels face was for a sturdy warning glare.

He didn’t want to be in a squad that didn’t want him, but he was bound to it. So, as the ship lifted from the hanger he left himself thinking. Always thinking. To ponder over the bridges burned. He decided, because of the shame he would leave when this mission was over. He had promised to complete this mission and so he would. Once it finished he would never enter Vast Empire space again, his shame was too much, he couldn’t bear it and remain the proud person he was, and so he would leave, as he had always done.

As the ship left atmosphere he fell asleep to these dreams of leaving, these half finished plans of a life beyond the Vast Empire. It wasn’t his style to wish, but that was really what he was doing. In his own way he was waving good bye to the Vast Empire and all friends he had within it.

“So, this is off to a fantastic start,” Fyre thought to herself. “I’ve learned that I have three minutes to live as soon as I step off this shuttle. Great.”

She glanced at Jager from the corner of her eyes to make sure he wasn’t looking, then gave him a death glare. He was occupied, locked in a staring contest with Jegora. “We’ll see who outlives who, Mr. Smarty Pants” Fyre thought, almost making a challenge with herself. Jager moved, and Fyre moved her head around, making it look like she was just taking in her squad mates. She had to admit, Snipes and Jager made her feel slightly uneasy. Angel just made her nervous, but not in the same way as the other two. Fyre was comfortable around Bright, and she had soon learned what not to ask her bunkmate. Fyre didn’t know the woman beside Jegora, and decided not to ask anyone until they landed.

For something to do, Fyre mentally went over what she had packed. Other than the necessities, food and water, she had packed a newly bought medic manual, something she had intended to read on the journey to Ylesia. She also had packed the few weapons that she know how to handle. Something that wasn’t standard issue was her dancer uniform that she had packed as well. Knowing that they might just come in contact with Hutts, Fyre had thought that it would probably in use. If it was needed, then she would reveal it to the others. On the other hand, if her precautions were unnecessary, then she would not reveal it, and everything would be fine. Unclipping herself, Fyre dropped to the floor and rifled through her bag, feeling her way to the manual. She didn’t want to risk opening it, and having someone, namely the males on the squad, to see. It took her a while, and she could feel some of her squad mates judging eyes on her, but she didn’t really care. What people said or did didn’t bother her. It was what they didn’t do and say, that worried her.

Finally finding her book, Fyre climbed back into her seat and started reading about first aid. Fyre had decided that she would memorize this part before she took her test or even before learning about the other material. Fyre heard some sarcastic comment made by Jager, but paid no attention. She read for about sometime, then dozed for a while. Fyre was the kind of person that could sleep anywhere, at anytime, even without the army experience all the others seemed to have. When she woke, the silence still remained. Glancing at her datapad, she say that only four hours had gone by.

“How do they stand this? If this continues like this, I’m gonna have a mental break down,” Fyre thought frustrated.

Some short, quiet conversations took place over the next few hours, but nothing major occured. Fyre was also able to listen into most of them without appearing to be doing so. If the conversations sounded or even seemed private, Fyre would switch herself away to something else. It was something else that she had learned to do from her many years experience in the cantina’s. Along with listening, her people skills, ability of judging characters, and self esteem had been enhanced through bar work.

The silence just seemed to persist. There was uneasiness in the air, something that all the others seemed to know about, but she herself, didn’t. Fyre Stone hated silence. Even as a child, Fyre never really had experienced silence, unless she was brooding about her father amongst the animal’s they had kept, or riding her tusk cat through the plains. Even then, that wasn’t really silence. Her brain flooded itself with memories from her childhood, mainly about her father. What had brought them, Fyre didn’t really know, as none of then were related to her train of thought. The memories cycled through, eventually coming to rest on probably the worst of her childhood. It never had bothered her before, nor had she even thought much about it. Fyre had accepted that her father was a jerk long ago. This was probably the worst of her memories, but despite Fyre’s best efforts, she couldn’t shake it away.

Fyre was exhausted. She had been up before dawn, mucking out the stable where their animals were kept. That took her till lunch, which she ate in the barn, trying to keep away from her family. Before she was finished eating, Fyre heard a commotion outside. Her father wasn’t a drunk by any means, but this night, he apparently had dipped into the corellian ale a bit too much. He had been gone the entire night, so it wasn’t surprising to see him in this state. Her mother was at his left elbow. He had a double-bladed vibrosword in his left hand, and was pushing his wife’s face with his right. He soon pushed her away, and kicked her feet out from underneath her. Her three brothers were, naturally “occupied” in the nearest village, and of course had borrowed Turhaya. Fyre’s father looked around, and when he saw her, it was like throwing a bleeding prisoner to a Rancor. She could have sworn that he doubled in size, and the entirety of his eyes turned blood red. He charged at her. She was frozen in place by fear, but somehow, her body reacted when he lowered one edge of the vibrosword, aiming towards her heart. She ducked and rolled away, and her father missed completely. She started running, but her father soon caught up, even in his drunken state. His balance was off, so she quickly ran right. Fyre hadn’t counted on her father’s double-bladed vibrosword being in the way. The piercing pain of metal cutting through skin was enough to make her fall. Fyre felt the blade start cutting at her right shoulder, and it twisted downwards, when it finally left her body near her left hip. She lay on the ground, bleeding, not even dareing to move, as her father examined her body and then walked away. She played dead for a while after, to make sure he wasn’t nearby. She stood up, and walked towards her nearest neighbour, the Shaloks. When they started panicking at the sight of her blood stained cloths, she told then that if was on of the nerfs that did it. Fyre then blacked out from blood loss.

Overwhelmed with all the horrific details from her memory, Fyre quickly undid her harness, and slumped to the floor. There she sat and curled into a ball, not only trying to forget, but mainly trying to not to cry.

The scream jerked Bright from her sleep. She was on her feet before she knew the situation. A lightning quick glance around the cabin, told her that everyone else seemed to be wide awake now as well. The sergeant's eyes fell on the small group only two seats from her own. In the center lay Abalar. Not good. Bright thought inwardly as she went to kneel by the other woman.

Bright had seen that look before, on the faces of people who'd seen or experienced too much trauma in too short a time. She narrowed her eyes and waved her hand in front of Fyre's eyes. The older woman seemed to be looking at something that was produced by a.....memory. Bright could only hope she was right. If she wasn't Fyre Stone's short career would be over before it started.

She looked up at the other three surrounding her and the new girl. Bright's eyes were searching for a moment before they fell on Jeg. She didn't suspect that he had done something to cause this, he just appeared to be the only one making eye contact with her. She raised a brow in question.

"I woke up and saw her just laying on the floor." Jeg said and then quickly amended it. "She was curled into the fetal position, I did notice tear streaks but she wasn't crying just staring. I decided to get Angel and Aeos had offered to help."

Bright listened intently and then scowled. Fyre was showing all the signs of a catatonic break. Not very encouraging. She waved her hand again in front of Fyre's face; nothing. She snapped her fingers in the private's ear and still nothing. She tried snapping her fingers next to the woman's face with no more success then the last three tries had yielded. Bright pursed her lips and sat back on her haunches, thinking.

The expression in Abalar's eye's was one of fear and anger. Bright put her hand on the girl's shoulder. When the action didn't not elicit another scream, Bright grabbed her arm firmly. She looked up at the three people around them and immediately knew that it would not be wise for either Jeg nor Angel to even touch her. Her violet gaze fell on Aeos. "Grab her other arm."

Aeos did as Bright said and together they half carried half dragged the girl to a more private location. Jag and Angel followed as Bright had expected them to. "Might want to stand back." Bright said setting Fyre on a chair. She noticed that Jeg and Angel shared a glance, shrugged and both stepped back. "You too Ae. I don't know how she'll react." Bright suggested with a reassuring smile.

Aeos gave a shrug of her own and stepped back to stand beside Jeg. Bright knew she would have to explain how she knew so much about handling someone in this state. She was sure that by now Jeg would be double curious. After all she had been the one to get Jaina to talk about Frozt when he'd been unable to do more than make the woman cry harder. She shook her head, Bright would just have to cross that bridge when she came to it.

Her mind back on the task at hand, Bright let out a deep breath and did something she'd never done to another trooper within her own squad before. She slapped Fyre across the face, hard. Hard enough for Bright to feel the sting in her own hand. Her plan had worked though, Fyre had launched herself out of the chair and at Bright a speed belying her previous state. The two women tumbled to the ground were Bright quickly pinned her 'patient'. It was the reaction that Bright had been expecting.

With her knee pressed gently but firmly against Fyre's torso, Bright watched as the private's eyes cleared and recognition dawned on her features. Fyre's eyes went wide and apologetic. "I-I-I'm so sorry." She stammered.

Bright sighed heavily and slowly released her hold on other woman. "Its ok Fyre. But we're going to have talk about what just happened." Bright said helping her new friend to the seat she had just vacated. "You've worried Angel and he's hard to reassure. And Jeg would just like to know that you won't be doing that again anytime soon. Or I can only assume that's what he wants." Bright informed Fyre indicating that Angel and Jeg should sit. Then she looked at Aeos for a moment. She trusted Aeos immensely but Bright wasn't sure if she would stay or not.

When Aeos took a seat as well Bright nodded and glared at the onlookers that continued to stare. Having already told her SL and ASL to have a seat, Bright already felt like she'd overstepped her bounds. Instead Angel followed her glare and added one of his own.

"Don't you have something else better to do." He said in his usually quiet commanding tone. The one that no one dared dispute. Everyone turned to tasks that either had to do with cleaning their weapons or just generally talking. Angel turned his gaze back to Bright and then to Fyre. He nodded, an indication that Bright should continue.

"Fyre. Would you like to tell us what just happened?" Bright asked. She genuinely hoped that Abalar was not as quick to cry as Jaina was.

Fyre seemed hesitant, a look from Angel though was enough to put even Bright on edge. Frye started into a detailed explanation of what she'd been doing right before her little episode and what particular memory had brought on her sudden catatonic state. Bright listened as she stared at the opposite wall and chewed on her lower lip. As far as she could tell Angel and Jeg were also listening intently in their own way. Bright couldn't have been sure, but she thought she had seen a slight blaze in her friend's eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared if it had even been there at all.

At least she isn't sobbing. Bright thought gratefully. In fact Fyre seemed almost cold and distant as she recounted her memory in front of almost complete strangers. This is going to take some time to think about, but she does seem to be back to normal. Bright thought again as she watched Fyre with narrowed eyes. She was looking for those hidden sign that said that such episodes weren't quite over. They were subtle and not many people would notice a slight tick here or a flinch there. Bright however was having no luck spotting even one tick or flinch. She saw no indication that Fyre would revert back into the state that had left her prostrate on the floor.

When Abalar finally finished, Bright felt three pairs of eyes lock onto her. She looked up and shook her head in the slightest possible way. It was her way of saying she could see nothing wrong at the moment. "I'll watch her till we get to Yelisa. If anything changes I'll let you know." Bright said. She grinned at Fyre's uncomprehending gaze. "I seem to be the resident, if unofficial, Shrink of the squad. Comforting isn't it?"

Fyre looked unsure of whether or not she should believe Bright. Angel just nodded and stood as Jeg did. Both men looked thoughtful. Aeos remained rooted to her seat a thoughtful look on her own face. Bright caught Jeg's eye again and noticed his brow was furrowed. This time it seemed he was wondering about her. Bright just shrugged. She would tell them only when ordered or when she felt like she owed them an explanation.

"If I had of said that when I joined, Kami would of hit me" Jager announced to no one in particular a short time after Fyre had locked herself away. "Gotta hand it to Banshee though, she's got balls" he finished, getting several confused looks and raised eyebrows from his squad mates. "I mean... well, not in that sense"

"Banshee?" Bright queried, shrugging off his other comment with a slight shudder.

"Yeah, Banshee..." Jager responded confidently, "You all heard her scream right?". The others mumbled something or simply turned away, returning to occasionally drifting into the conversation for a few minutes with a quick comment or a look then going back to their individual preparatory states. 

"... Does the empire give returns on faulty troopers?" he asked, looking up from his gear. "Because I think we got a dud."

"They only give store-credit if you make a fuss" Snipes added from his sleep like state. Jager smirked, though still trying to work out if Snipes was coming down from a week long bender or was on the verge of suicide, either way he displayed characteristics of someone who didn't want to be where he was.

The squad drifted back into its monotonous silence that seemed to always be present before a mission, whether it be because of pre-mission nerves or a mutual hatred between the lot of them.

"ETA; one hour" a voice announced over the intercom, a statement that was almost music to Jager's ears. An anticipation began to slowly build up inside of him, it had been to long. The shuttle began bustling with activity as the Jester's finished off getting ready, the sound of weapons being checked and re-checked joined with the low, distant hum of the shuttles engines  almost harmoniously to create a low tension. It was then Fyre appeared in the doorway, bringing everyone's preparations to a sudden halt.

"I'm not crazy you know" she stated confidently after a short pause before moving back to her original seat, leaving Jager lost as to why someone who was obviously three rounds short of a full clip had been added to Jester who were apparently 'The Empires Best'.

"You know, If you weren't crazy... you probably didn't have to say that" Jager stated to his kit. With a scuttling of hands across his gear the trooper managed to retrieve a crumpled packet of cigarettes from an empty ammo pouch. Within seconds he had lit one up. Taking a long drag before offering the packet to Snipes, who accepted then turned away. The remaining half-hour before landing would have been dead quite if it hadn't been for Angel running over the final game-plan.

"Snipes, Jager, Jori, Bright and Fyre will cover the exterior of the house while Jegora, Ae Kip and myself clear inside." he stated, looking at each individual trooper.

"Clear?"

The squad gave vague acknowledgments to their leaders outlines as The shuttle shuddered violently for a brief second signaling it that it had just broken the planets atmosphere. An action that was quickly followed by a 'Five minutes' call from the pilot.

Hastily Jager re-re-checked his gear. M3, Check. M4, check. Extra clips, check. he mumbled, arriving at the M1. The magazines for the Tyrant were similar to bricks. A fact which limited him to only carrying a pitiful three including the one in the weapon, disappointing him to no end, though each magazine carried five hundred bullets.

A low grumble emanated from Jager as he sized up the speeder bikes. Bikes were never his strong point, and the thought of riding one of them into a hostile situation was bordering on suicidal. None the less they were still going to do it. Angel mounted one the bikes closest to the door, turning back and nodding as he hit the ignition.

The hum of the shuttles engines grew louder with each passing second, the moment that Jager had been waiting for since they started this little operation was almost upon him which called for a celebration. Another cigarette was removed from his gear and placed between his lips, the heat from the lighter brushing against his face as he held it to the white stick.

'Thirty seconds' The pilot called over the intercom which was barely audible over the engines. Angel's voice quickly followed over the Comm's,

"Try and keep up, We've got a schedule to keep"

With a deep hydraulic hiss the cargo doors opened revealing the dark outlines of what was at best guess a rain forest. Almost immediately Angel took off with Jeg, Ae, Jori and Snipes in tail. Bright motioning for Jager to get going as she finished saying something to Fyre, but he stuck with the age old rule of 'Ladies first'. Statistically the rear was the safest place, which assured that he would at least get a few shots off before being cut down by a sniper...

"Today" Jeg announced impatiently as Bright and Fyre exited the shuttle. Flicking the ignition switch caused Jager's bike to grunt painfully before it set into a steady idle. Throwing the cigarette to the shuttles deck he smirked as he replied over the Commlink, "Coming dear"

As Jegora watched Snipes jog off into the darkness he approached Angel. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he inquired softly.

Angel sighed and shook his head. “Probably not,” he answered. Jegora shrugged and turned back to survey the squad. Frye seemed to be keeping up ok, and everyone else was moving at a steady trot. They had to be getting close now. Another few seconds of silent jogging brought the Jesters ever nearer to their target. Angel finally raised a closed fist and the squad slowed to a halt. Jegora estimated they were still a block from their target.

“Snipes, what do you see?” Angel asked when the squad had finally come to a complete stop.

There’s was slight pause, and then Snipes’ rough voice echoed inside Jegora’s helmet. “Not much. House looks dark, a ranch-style dwelling, one story. Looks like their may be a basement. Front and back doors, nothing special. Windows are all closed and secured, though, so we can’t go in by that route. Also doesn’t appear to be a security system of any kind.”

Angel grunted an acknowledgement, and then turned to the rest of the squad. “Alright, let’s do this fast and quiet. Get in, get what we need, and get out. And for Sith’s sake be quiet.” That little speech got a round of murmured acknowledgements from the squad. Angel spoke again, this time directing his comments at Snipes. “Pull back, find somewhere to cover us.”

“But--” Snipes began to protest, only to be cut off by Angel.

“I said get out of there.”

There were some grunts and a few choice words could be heard, but Snipes’ blip on Jegora’s heads-up-display moved away from the house and into a neighboring yard. “Alright,” Angel said upon seeing that Snipes was going to listen for once, “Jeg, Kip, Ae: let’s do this.”

Grinning to himself Jegora slipped his M66-SD submachine gun off his shoulder. The diminutive weapon had become part of his standard mission load in recent weeks. He had taken to caring two weapons, the submachine gun and a heavier rifle or carbine, along with the sidearm strapped to his thigh. It was a little extra weight, to be sure, but Jegora had enough bulk that it didn’t have a negative effect on him. Plus, it was a system of tradeoffs: sure the submachine gun might weigh him down slightly, but it was superb for close-quarters combat, and it was quiet. In short, it was perfect for the situation Jegora was in now.

Angel led the way, his SLAR slung over his shoulder and an IR-Intimidator repeating blaster in each hand. Jegora knew from experience that those blasters were Angel’s choice close-quarters weapon, and he also knew that his squad leader was just as deadly with the small pistols as he was with his rifle.

“Front or back?” Jegora asked Angel as the four approached the house.

“Both,” Angel responded. “You and Kip take the front, Ae and I will take the back. Clear each room, and don’t shoot us.”

Jegora grinned behind his helmet. “Willco boss.”

While Kip and Jegora waited out front Angel and Ae skirted around the house’s perimeter and took up a position near the back door. The other Jesters had spread out, taking up positions where they could offer covering fire in the need arose. When Angel and Ae were finally in position Jegora tentatively reached out for the door handle. Luckily, it was unlocked, which made things oh so much easier.

“Door’s unlocked boss,” Jeg informed his squad leader.

There was a slight pause, and then Angel said, “Same here. Let’s go.”

Jegora quietly pushed the door open, leading the way with the muzzle of his weapon. His helmet’s low-light filters activated immediately upon entering the house and everything Jegora saw was tinted slightly green. None the less he could see, and hopefully anyone else who might have been in the house couldn’t. Jegora and Kip cleared three rooms before running into Angel.

“I think we’re all clear,” Kip said.

Ae nodded. “Did you guys check the basement?” she asked.

Jegora simply shook his head. He hadn’t even seen the stairs leading to the basement.

“Alright,” Angel said, “here’s what we’ll do. Kip, there’s a computer terminal through that door there. See what you can get off it. Jeg and I are gonna check the basement. Aeos can keep you company.”

“Suits me,” Kip said, moving off towards the room with the computer terminal, Aeos in tow.

As the two left Jegora with Angel, the squad leader looked at Jeg. “Ready?” he asked.

Jegora nodded his armored head. “Damn straight,” he said.

As Angel led Jegora to the stairwell Jegora examined the interior of the house more closely. A lot of the woodwork was dusty, as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time, but the furniture was still all intact, which suggested that the occupant of the house had never sold it after moving away, if in fact they had moved away. On the other hand, if this had been Frozt’s house then there was a possibility that the slicer had expected to return here some day.

Well, whatever had been planned, one thing was certain: Frozt was never coming back to this house again.

The basement turned out to be darker than the upstairs. It was quite small, and appeared to be used mainly for storage. Jegora took his cue from Angel and began to rummage around through the various contents of the shelves. The basement turned up nothing, and a Jegora dutifully climbed the stairs, following Angel back onto the main floor of the house.

Angel, meanwhile, was filling in the rest of the Jesters. “House is clean, but Kip is going to try and slice the personal terminal here. Sit tight.”

Jegora was reminded of how happy he was to be doing something and cringed inwardly. As boring as clearing the house had turned out to be, waiting outside would have been even worse. Still, even though he sympathized with the rest of the Jesters left outside and realized that he was fairly lucky to have a chance at some action, Jegora couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He had really wanted to shoot something.

Snipes grunted to himself and slowed his pace, letting Abalar get in front of him. Slowly Abalar gained five steps or so on Snipes; he took the opportunity to quickly sidestep into an alley way and duck behind a pile of empty boxes. He could hear her jog back to where she’d last him, and could hear her looking around. Too loud.

“Um, this is Abalar. Sniping has. . .disappeared.” Snipes could hear her both inside and outside of his helmet.

“Of course he did.” Angels voice was full of irritation, “Bright, are you near Abalars location?”

“Yes, I’m on my way over.”

“Don’t worry about it. He does that, kid.” Angel said.

Snipes killed the comlink after that and got up, at a low crouched run he exited the other side of the alleyway. Residential areas always sucked for this kind of work, too open, too many people. Street lights, teens staying up all night. It was insanity.
Of course Snipes imagined everyone on the planets schedules were complete screwed up, with only a ten hour day the only way to get enough sleep was to literally spend one sleeping. Snipes hated planets like this.

The only way he could stay hidden in a place like this was to duck in and around speeders. Usually he would have taken a roof top, but the roofs were too low, most the houses being but a single story. Snipes was quick and skilled however, with experience a light-year long. He made his way to the edge of the residential area, to where commercial buildings began. Whoever did the zoning for this place was either an asshole or an idiot.

The building Snipes entered was a multi-story parking garage. It had many options for getting to the top, an elevator, stairs or the speeder ramps. Snipes walked around and around the great spiral ramps, keeping to the shadows as best he could until he reached the top. He had to take a few seconds to orient himself, once he managed it he strode to the far end and looked out over the residential area. I’m putting my money on asshole.

Snipes looked to both sides of himself, there were only a handful of speeders up there at that time of night. He walked over to one that looked broken and looked it over. It was definitely broken; one of the engines was half torn apart. He climbed on the front and crouched down, still looking over the residential area. He pulled the helmet off his head, turned the comlink back on and buckled it to his belt by the chin strap. He inhaled deeply and pulled a cigarette from one of his belt pouches, stuck it in his lips and lit it. He inhaled deeply again and was significantly more satisfied with the result than the first inhale.

So there he sat, or rather crouched, on the hood of a speeder trying to keep himself from falling asleep. There wasn’t much to see, he could make out Frozt’s place, but from this distance he couldn’t make out the black armored Jesters. That was a good thing. Still, it left little for him to be entertained by. He pulled up his StA-52 LAR and activated the holographic scope, zooming in on Frozts house. He could make out members of Jester moving, but it wasn’t clear, it was enough, however, to assure him all was well.

Then something happened. Not something important, just something irritating. Something flew in front of Snipes display, something down near Frozt’s place. Snipes zoomed out a bit and tried to find it.

Perched on top of the house next to Jester was a little gray bird. Snipes thought they were called ‘pigeons’ but he preferred to call them ‘poop machines’. He lined it up in his scope, it moved slightly and he adjusted for it, then gently he squeezed the trigger. The avian disappeared in an explosion of blood and feathers. Knew I got hollow points for a reason. Snipes chuckled a little to himself. He cast his scope around a little more, found another, and made it go ‘pop!’. I am the galaxies deadliest hood ornament, bitch.

A muffled explosion rocked the house from somewhere in the back. A plume of smoke, ash, and dust billowed out from the doorway Aeos and Kip and gone in to find the computer terminal. Holding his breath that it wasn't some booby trap Frozt had left, Angel activated the commlink in his helmet. "Aeos, status."

"Just making a door boss," came the crackled reply. Angel could sense the smirk behind the impassive visage of Jeg's helmet. Since their return from a second tour of Anteevy, Angel had noticed some of the tension ebbing between the two. He still wasn't sure what the finality of their situation would be, but he was inwardly glad they were hashing it out on their own.

Changing his focus, Angel shot a question out to the perimeter team. "Jager, status outside? Anything move after that explosion?"

"Not a peep. Although I did spy a couple gettin' busy on their sofa." The newly promoted sergeant replied.

Rolling his eyes, Angel answered, "Thanks Luth, I'm sure you'll keep an eye on them."

"You bet your lilly white ass I will. Already selling tickets to Jori." A light chuckle from several Jesters filled the channel, and even Angel felt it hard to maintain professionalism. In a different situation, in a different place, he probably would have been angered and rebuked the always foul-mouthed soldier, but the mission was going off without a hitch thus far. His troops were loose and in good spirits, something he didn't want to mess up.

"You want to check out that shed?" Jegora asked, absently poking around the living room for anything of use.

"Not unless we don't absolutely need to." The squad leader said, taking the downtime to remove his helmet. "No sense poking around extra places, especially since Kip seems to be taking care of things here."

Angel was about to set down his helmet on the table next to him, when an excited voice cut through the squad's channel. Reversing his motion, he quickly put the helmet back on and caught the tail end of a message from Snipes.

"...inbound."

"Say again Snipes? I didn't get that..." Angel hurriedly said.

"I SAID," Same the annoyed reply. "We have company. Four military-class landspeeders inbound."

"Can you ID-them?" Jegora inquired, already taking the safeties off his weapons.

"Negative...wait a second...Oh shit." Snipes muttered in a hushed tone. "I count 4 squads of stormtroopers and one of those naga-hide whatever the crap they're called from Tadath."

Angel and Jeg exchanged puzzled glances, even though they couldn't be seen behind their helmets, before the ASL asked, "Noghri...with stormtroopers?" The puzzle was beginning to unravel in Angel's mind.

The unmistakable whine of landspeeders cut through the silent night air, drawing closer and interruping Angel's thoughts. Focusing on their current plight, Angel asked over the commlink "Snipes, ETA?"

"30 seconds. I'll try and take some out from here." Without waiting for confirmation from Angel, Snipes cut off the link. Turning to his left, Angel already found Jeg taking position at the front door.

"Jager, you catch all that?" The ASL queried.

"Sonova bitch." Jager replied. Heavy breaths came over the comm, and it was obvious the trooper was moving a bit labored with the extreme weight of the MG-1 Tyrant rifle he had drug along. "Yeah, we're in position to light these assholes up.

Angel meanwhile holstered his IR-5s and swung the SLAR from over his shoulder. "Aeos, we need you out here. Kip, get a move on we won't have much more time once the shooting starts." Aeos clicked her comm in acknowledgment and her footsteps echoes through the house. "Jeg, you and Aeos cover the front door, Brightstar, circle around back and help me cover the rear."

A single shot rang out over the dull roar of the approaching speeders, and Angel immediately knew the time for preparations had reached its end.

Bright swore vividly as she listened to Snipes report that company was coming and that a Noghri was with them. Instantly she tensed finding herself ready for a fight she wasn't sure she would be facing. Her gut told her that she would, though. She set her jaw and clenched her teeth, her lips formed a thin straight line.

Hearing Angel's orders, Bright jumped too follow them. As she passed Jori she shoved a Thermal Detonator and C-22 Frag Grenade into each of his hands and she kept one of each for herself. Bright only ever brought two  at a time of any given type of grenade and those two particular types caused a fair amount of damage in their own right. The only other grenade she had with her was an EMP type. She would not use it here though. At least not while Kiption was still working with the computers.

It didn't take her long at all to move to the rear of the building where Angel was already waiting. He nodded once and turned to watch the surrounding area. Bright took up a position in the middle of the door way and crouched bringing her Bi-Polar Blaster BMC-150 Carbine up into a ready position.

The carbine was heavier than what Bright usually brought with her but she didn't mind the extra weight. If this mission had taken place weeks before, Bright would not have been in any position to dictate what weapon she would be taking anywhere. After so long in the Medical Unit on Tadath's Military base, Bright had lost a fair amount of muscle. She realized that part of that loss was due to the disease that she had contracted while on Cepany, but laying in bed had only compounded the problem.  Some time in the last few weeks Bright had gained some of it back, but not enough in the former warrior's mind.

As Bright occupied her mind with memories of the past and stacato glances of the surrounding area around her, she heard the sounds of blaster fire from some where. She emptied her mind at that point. If shots had already been fired then she was taking no chances. She hefted her weapon again and waited.

Two minutes into the fire fight Bright felt a something glance off her leg armor and looked down. Something that was as reactionary as that had been such a bad decision. The sergeant felt herself being smashed between the door jam and something heavy. I body Bright knew. She was caught momentarily off guard but she recovered quickly enough to shove back against the other door jam. Samwitching whatever and whoever it was between her and the other side of the door.

Angel had already turned and let off a couple shots, one of them flying high in a rare missed shot for the Jester SL.  The other one grazed the unknown body on the shoulder. Bright brought her elbow into the mess managing to ram the weight back towards the night and the small clear area at the rear of the building.

Seeing the being bathed in the semi bright light provided by the outdoor glowpannels, Bright knew instantly that it was the lone Noghri that had come with the stormtroopers.  The woman let out a low snarl, as the Noghri came at her  in  a charge. She brought the but of her weapon up har under the compact alien's chin. He staggered backward but did not drop as most other beings would have. Bright took that chance and planted her foot firmly into the male Noghri's belly.

He stumbled back further and Bright saw Angel chance another shot at alien. He hit his mark but, again, only barely as the Noghri turned to dodge as he heard the shot. Bright was bringing her own weapon to bear but she was knocked sideways by a strong backhand to her helmet.

The woman spun and staggered regaining her footing just in time to sidestep another charge. Wondering vaguely how she had gotten herself into this mess again, Bright dropped her carbine and reached instinctively for one of her many blades. Not bothering to see which she had grabbed, Bright launched into a spinning sweep with her blade held above her head. She felt the light pull as she managed to graze the alien's belly.

She immediately shot up after completing her circuit and brought the palm of her left, cybernetic and armored, hand up under the Noghri's chin. Again he only staggered and countered by grabbing Bright's arm and twisting it back behind her with a speed Bright was hard put to follow.

She grunted in pain as she felt the cybernetics react to the stress.  In one fluid movement Bright brought the blade in her right hand back behind her in hopes of stabbing her opponent in the ribs. The sudden release of her arm told her that she had missed and her attacker had jumped clear and to a safe distance. More shots suggested that Angel was taking yet more shots at the Noghri while still trying to watch their surroundings. Bright just needed to keep this thing busy till Kip was finished.

The sergeant noted with satisfaction that her opponent had more injuries, however minor they were, than she did. Bright didn't notice that she very nearly matched the alien in speed, but she did notice that fighting in full armor was once again confining her movements. In the weeks of training she had put in since her last episode with a couple of Noghri, Bright had always sparred in light, not so confining clothes. She was tiring, she could feel it.

Bright didn't have time to think much mor than that as she was being charged again.  And she was sure that this time she wouldn't be able to just sidestep. A shot her left said that Angel had just downed a trooper hoping to get passed him. The charge caught Bright full in the belly  and she was off her feet. She couldn't feel much through her armor until  she was suddenly on the ground again, the wind knocked from her lungs.

The Noghri was ready to bring his fist crashing down into the view pannel on Bright's helmet but she brought her blade up in defense. Instead the Noghri's knuckles landed hard on the sharp edge of her combat knife. The edge bit deep and the alien howled in both pain and rage as he lept back again holding his hand.  Bright was barely on her feet again when something hard hit her in the shoulder joint, spinning her right and numbing her only biological arm.

"Ah frack!" She said hitting the ground again. "Angel, a little help?" She asked hoping her comm hadn't been destroyed.

"Motherfucker!" Jager cried as he let fly another burst from his M1. It kicked like an angry Ronto, screamed like an wounded Mynock and tore apart hostile troopers like a Hutt through a sixteen course meal. It was truly the messiah of all assault weaponry. Such a weapon gave its user the impression of immortality, he felt as though he could have taken all of them single handedly and if it weren't for his finite supply of ordinance and alarming red glow that the barrel had recently acquired, he probably could have.

A sharp knock to the head broke him from his delusions of immortality, "Stop shooting you idiot, that's Snipes!" Jori exclaimed before quickly returning to his position at the next window. So far Jager had expended two thirds of his magazine, littering the area around his feet with spent casings. This also meant that his hearing was replaced with a distinct ringing which drowned out anything Snipes had yelled back at him. Snipes quickly followed up his calls by dramatically diving through a nearby window, a maneuver that was made even more bizarre by the trio of heads that adorned the mans belt.

Jager wanted to ask out of curiosity... but it was that same curiosity that held him back. He had always held the assumption that Snipes was a few screws loose, but there was a distinct line between being a tad eccentric and a complete psychopath. A line which he had obviously crossed when the idea that 'hey, I bet his head would look good on my belt' first formulated. Jager could have spent a while pondering Snipes actions but several cries from Jori followed by sporadic weapons fire brought him back to the task at hand.

The assaulting stormtroopers had used the lull in suppressing fire to advance to the back fence, which was no only a shell of its former glory. Jager immediately swept with the yard with one solid burst halting the half dozen troopers who had decided to press the attack, several flailing about as a torrent of projectiles cut through them. The weapon created a lovely red mist as it tore through the sub-par trooper armor, a sight which gave Jager an idea for the name of his new best friend. 

"I'm gonna call you Misty" he announced to no-one in particular, giving the weapon a quick yet intimate hug. It was in this moment of passion that he neglected to notice the troopers advancing along the side of the building. If they had been vast empire troops, or even experienced mercenaries then a quick fragmentation grenade followed by heroic charge would have decimated the Jester's line of defense. Instead they opted for a more brute force method.

A set of white, armored leggings synonymous with the standard issue trooper armor materialized in front of Jager and before he could react a swift kick connected with his jaw, sending him to the ground with a thud. The anonymous trooper dived on top of him long before Jager could cry for help, pushed forward by the troopers that proceeded him. Things had begun to look grim as the trooper pressed down on his throat with his E-11 with an unrelenting determination. A determination that Jager had only just managed to hold back, though he had doubts as to how long he could continue it.

Jori had been preoccupied with taking potshots at the troopers scattered across the backyard, which had become considerably larger since the fall of the fence, to notice Jager's predicament. What he did notice was that the amount of foul language and heavy weapons fired had all but stopped, prompting him to see what was happening.

A gurgled "Jori!" was all Jager managed to sputter. Without a second thought he fired a quick burst from his rifle knocking the attacking trooper off his comrade and to the floor with a slightly comical 'Augh!'

Jager hastily returned to his feet as another two appeared at gaping hole in the wall that was once referred to as a window. Seeing the fate that had just befallen their colleague, the two paused. It was far to late to backtrack, but even through the ominous trooper helmets their expressions of fear were obvious. Jager of course was still a few feet from his M1, or 'Misty, and in the time it would have taken for him to draw either his M4 or Revolver they would have rediscovered their gumption and their triggers and fired.

It was in this moment of desperation that a voice cried out,

"Jager, your shoes are untied"

A call which sent Jager straight to the floor. The crack of a shotgun being discharged brought a smile to his face.

"First ones always free" Snipes announced as he disappeared behind the doorway. Jager was glad he hadn't accidentally cut him down earlier.

The assault on the rear of the house seemed to be dieing down as the remaining troops retreated to the house at the other end of the backyard. Their maneuver was obvious, regain manpower then push the house again, but Jager was still thankful for the momentary silence.

The barrel of his weapon had cooled slightly, losing its red glow. With a grunt he released the almost expended magazine and got to work replacing it, the battle had been going on for the better part of five minutes and he had already chewed through the five hundred round brick.

"Running low" Jori called from his window position, "Here's hoping they give up and go home"

"Bah, Here's hoping they send a few hundred more. I'm just getting warmed up" Jager called back, again petting the stock of his weapon lovingly.

"Warmed up? So is that what you call being pinned to the ground and screaming for help is, eh?" Jori retorted.

Jager could almost visualize the smug look on his squad mates face, an image that made him toy with the idea of letting a burst off through the wall and claiming it was a battlefield incident. An idea he almost had the guts to go through with were it not for a bolt slamming into the wall just opposite him.

"Arrggh, here they come again!" Jori groaned, bringing his weapon to bear and letting off a series of shots.

Jager pulled the action on his M1 back and lined up his sights on the trickle of white figures that had begun to emerge from the house, "Good" he smirked, "I was starting to get lonely"

The operation had quickly gone from smooth as silk to chaotic. With the addition of twenty or so baddies the Jesters suddenly found themselves in a precarious situation. The real problem wasn’t the actual enemy troopers, it was the fact that the Jesters were spread all over the neighborhood, pulling recon duty. Only half the squad was actually at the house, and even then only four of them could be considered ‘shooters’, as Kiption was occupied with the computer terminal. 

Bright and Angel were covering the rear of the house, Jegora and Aeos the front. Some time during the course of the rather intense firefight Jager and Jori joined the fight, opening fire on the enemy troopers that were assaulting from the rear. Meanwhile Snipes, who had been sneaking around and raiding the enemy stormtroopers, managed to flank the eight or so hostiles that were assaulting the front of the house. He took out one of the troopers with a well placed shot to the head before the other white-clad stormtroopers figured out what was happening and took up better cover positions. Meanwhile Aeos and Jegora, who had been pinned down by enemy fire inside the house, finally managed to get some shots off, thanks to Snipes’ perfectly timed attack.

“Jester’s, head count,” Jegora said between popping off rounds with his A280. Unfortunately the house’s modest yard was landscaped into a series of terraces, which offered good cover for a limited amount of troops advancing on the premises. The heavy rifle might have been able to pierce armor, but it couldn’t cut through the thick concrete and earth that separated the enemy troopers from Jegora and Aeos’ fire.

One by one the Jester troopers sounded off, until only Abalar had left to report. Finally, after a long moment, her exhausted voice echoed through Jegora’s helmet.

“Hey boss, this is Abalar. I know how you’re busy and all, but I kinda have a problem as well. I’m in a one on one with the Noghri, and I have a downed trooper, probably our own, but I can’t be sure. May I request some assistance?” Fyre said, after she opened a com channel.

There was a curse over the squad’s comm. channel, and Jegora immediately recognized the voice as Jager’s. The man had only vocalized what everyone else was thinking, though: Abalar was in trouble. The Jesters knew firsthand just how brutally efficient the Noghri were, and there was little doubt that any one of the aliens was more than a match for even the most skilled troopers of the Corps.

Jegora’s analytical mind was already working, trying to devise a plan. After a long moment of intense thought in which he quit shooting completely he had nothing. No plan, not even an idea. He didn’t even know where Abalar was, or how many troopers were in between her and the rest of the Jesters. Jegora had no idea what to do, and he hoped Angel had a plan. Otherwise, Abalar might not live through her first mission.

At that point Jegora quit thinking and resume shooting. The enemy troopers had sensed the lull in his fire and had chosen that moment to try and advance. Jegora opened up with the A280 just in time to catch one of the troopers trying to stick his head up over the terrace he had been hiding behind. Jegora made a nice shot and neatly clipped the man just above his right eye, knocking the man backwards several paces and shattering his helmet. Whatever damages the man’s head suffered after that Jegora wasn’t sure, but he imagined it couldn’t have been pretty.

Jegora was searching for another target when Angel’s voice filled his helmet. “Jegora, go get her,” he said tersely. For his part Jegora stopped shooting and blinked incredulously behind his helmet.

Keying the comlink on his wrist Jegora opened a private channel with his squad leader. “Are you serious?” he asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

“Damn straight I’m serious,” Angel replied. “I’m not gonna let her buy the farm on this one. Get out there and bring her back.”

“I don’t even know where she is!” Jegora protested.

There was a dull beep that signified that the link had been closed, and Jegora swore to himself quietly. Hoisting the A280 Jegora glanced at Aeos, who nodded. She had things under control. Without any further ado Jegora slipped out the front door, using the heavy suppressive fire offered by Aeos and Snipes to make his way safely out of the yard and into the shadows.

Glancing around, Jegora tried to get a grip on his surroundings. He had no idea where Abalar was, but she couldn’t be far. Picking up his pace to a steady trot Jegora spoke over the squad-wide channel. “Abalar, can you describe your location?”

“I’m near some sort of large structure,” the newest Jester said, panting. Glancing up at the skyline of the neighborhood Jegora tried to identify any buildings that could be described as large. There were a few apartment buildings four or five blocks away, but the building that caught his eye was a non-descript, covered building only a block distant.

“Tall, sand-colored stone?” Jegora asked, already moving towards the building.

There was a slight pause before Abalar answered. “Yes,” she said simply, her voice tight with exertion.

By now Jegora was in a full-out sprint towards the building. After thirty seconds of hard running he rounded a corner and came up behind the Noghri, which was slowly advancing on Abalar, knives bared. Jegora moved to raise his rifle and shoot the Noghri right then and there, but at the last moment thought better of it. The creature was simply too small, too wiry, too quick, and Abalar was directly in his line of fire. If Jegora missed he would hit Abalar, and the A280 would rip right through the black Storm Commando armor.

Jegora dropped the rifle, which hit the ground with a large crash, and charged the Noghri. The rifle’s fall had alerted the blue-skinned alien to Jegora’s presence, but it made little difference, as Jegora was already on the diminutive creature. He tackled the alien to the ground, crushing it beneath his massive frame. Then Jegora found himself rolling head first off the creature, propelled by an incredibly sophisticated and expertly executed move out of some unarmed combat discipline Jegora had never even heard off.

Rolling to his feat Jegora’s finely tuned instincts warned him just in time to avoid a knife thrust from the Noghri. Jegora attempted to grab the creature’s wrist and disarm him, but the alien twisted away out of his grasp and somehow ended up behind him. The alien kicked at his legs, trying to trip him up, but Jegora had been expecting such a move and his massive and muscular frame was simply too sturdy for the creature to upset that easily.

Spinning around Jegora drew his own knife from it’s sheathe on his left thigh. Now the two combatants slowly circled each other, and Jegora finally got a chance to study his opponent. It appeared that the Noghri was bleeding from a stomach wound, although it didn’t appear as serious as it could have been. In the end it didn’t matter, as the Noghri was still in excellent fighting condition.

Out of the corner of his eye Jegora noticed Abalar had drawn her sidearm and was trying to get a clear shot at the Noghri. Jegora shook his head slightly and waved her off, hoping she got the message. He didn’t want to get shot by accident.

After that Jegora had nothing else to worry about except the creature he was facing. He settled more fully into his hips, leaving his limbs loose. He wanted to be able to move freely if the creature charged. His knife was in his right hand, although he was prepared to flip it around for a cross slash if the opportunity presented itself. For a good minute the pair circled each other, trying to find any weakness in the others’ defense. Just as Jegora thought that the Noghri’s attack was imminent the creature did the most astonishing thing. It spun away, and ran. Jegora stood for a moment, dumbfounded, and then sheathed his knife. He stepped over and picked up his A280, and then checked on Abalar.

The young woman was in rough shape. The Noghri’s knife had pierced her armor in several places, convincing Jegora that it was less primitive than it appeared. Blood was seeping through the various punctures, although none appeared to be in vital locations.

“Can you walk?” Jegora questioned, unsure what they would do if she couldn’t.

Abalar nodded. “Yeah, but it hurts.”

Biting back a particularly mean comment, Jegora shrugged Abalar’s rifle over his shoulder and picked up her strange double-bladed sword. The weapons were heavy, and Jegora wondered why the woman would choose to use the weapons, or how she could carry them.

Gesturing in the general direction of the house, Jegora wasted no more time. “Let’s go,” he said to Abalar, then keyed his mic. “Jesters, we’re coming back. How’s this gonna work?”

“Front still has some baddies, and it’ll be difficult to get you in. Can you wait outside the perimeter?” a voice said. It took Jegora a minute, but he finally recognized it as Snipes.

Jegora shook his head, and then remembered that his squad mates couldn’t see him. “Negative, Abalar needs some first aid.”

There was a moments’ pause, and then Angel broke the silence. “Come around the back. We’ll get you in somehow.”

Sighing, Jegora readjusted the multiple weapons slung over his shoulders and switched the sword to his other hand. Glancing at Abalar he growled and said, “I hope you really, really like these weapons.”

Abalar looked at Jegora, and although he couldn’t see her face Jegora could imagine her questioning look. “Why’s that?” she asked, her voice laced with pain.

“Because I’m carrying the damn things, and they’re bloody heavy,” Jegora said.

Abalar snorted, and Jegora began to get a tad angry. He had just saved her, and Abalar was laughing at him. So much for being thankful.

Snipes grunted, his helmet back in place since the shooting had started. A piled of spent casings and a still burning cigarette laying at his feet. He moved his foot slightly and squished the cigarette out. The fiasco had been of some use, at least. Now they knew where the enemy hid. Snipes felt like doing something about it.

“Jager, I think I’m going to go for a walk, mind the place for me?”

“Anything sweet. . .oh shit.”

Snipes turned back around, on the other side of the window, tearing past the opposing building were one of the enemy speeders. Fully covered tops, small turrets roaring at the side of the house, sending bits and pieces of it flying around the troopers, sending them all to the ground.

“Ah shit on a shingle.” Jager said, “Don’t suppose they’re here for the barbeque.”

“Eh, I’m sure we’ve got enough food to go around.” Snipes said, changing out his half finished magazine of FMJ rounds for his two-thirds full API magazine. “Why don’t we give them something to chew on?”

“That was hella corny.”

“Yeah, yeah, three.”

“Two”

“ONE!”

They both sprang into a crouched position, just high enough to see over the window. Jagers tyrant began to scream bloody murder at the enemy vessel. Snipes had to take his time, he couldn’t get a decent shot off, at least not at the engines, so he had to try for the driver. It seemed like ten minutes, but the space of a second as the speeder turned it’s attention back to their area and Snipes decided to screw precision. He squeezed the trigger again, again, and again. Letting bursts of armor piercing incendiaries rake across the cockpit area.

It was hard to tell which gun brought it down, but after a few terrifying moments of sustained fire and it began to list to the side, the front right repulsors failing, the front end dug into the dirt, spinning the whole vessel sideways. Snipes smiled, he had a shot on the engines. He didn’t hold back, he gave it a sustained spray, wasting far too many of his precious API rounds, but insuring that the vessel finally died, rolling onto it’s side, the bottom towards the Jesters.

“That one is my kill.” Jager said, his barrel red hot, clearly indignant.

“Oh hell no, all you did was distract it.”

“Like hell, you barely did anything! You probably still have most your magazine left.”

“Pfft, it’s all about where you shoot.”

“Whenever you two ladies are done, isn’t there something strange about this?”

Aeos, had at some point during the argument, shown up. Snipes took a second and looked at the pulverized yards, the dead speeder. Come to think of it there was something odd. Normally troops would be piling out of the thing, using it and using it as cover.

“Give me a minutes kids.” Snipes said, turning briskly and walking out of the room.

Snipes had a bad feeling. He exited the building on one side, used what was left of the fence on that side as a boost and made his way quickly onto the roof. He crouched low on the front side, using the darkness as cover and peered over the peek. He let his head fall against the roof in frustration. There was a line of very careful white bodies making their way towards the downed craft, careful to keep behind it and out of the Jesters view. Their white armor stood out in the darkness though, fools. Should have at least sent commandos against us. Then it might have been fair.

Snipes keyed his comm. “They’re using the damned thing as cover, advancing slowly. Don’t know what the hell their plan is after getting behind it, might try to overwhelm us, at that range quite a few should be able to make it into the house.”

“Sithspit.” Angel’s voice, “Anything you can do from up there.”

It couldn’t be seen, but the animalistic grin spread across the First Sergeants face, “I’ve got just the thing.”

Snipes pulled himself up to a crouch. He yanked briskly at one of the heads on his belt and the string holding it on broke, he pulled the tap off the mouth and the handle sprung out at him. He was nearly giggling, he grabbed the end of the cord and spun the decapitated head around his own, then tossed it, letting it fly with a holler.

The head spun, grotesquely graceful, towards its targets, and finally it landed with a couple bounces. From Snipes vantage point he could tell it was staring straight at one of them for a brief second before fire and blood filled his vision, coating what stormtroopers survived in bloody head bits.

“OH HELL YES!” Snipes said, jumping up in excitement, then quickly remembering himself and ducking down again just as a several shots from behind flew around him.

The garage where the bikes had been stored was nestled in an alley half a block down the street. A distance that wouldn't have mattered if it weren't for the two wounded troopers and an unknown number of hostile entities surrounding the house. Although after a handful of failed attempts to capture the house, their numbers had diminished significantly.

"Listen up. Jeg, you're point. Jori and Myself will help Stone and Bright. Ae cover kip" Angel delegated stoically, though it was clear that he'd had enough and was as eager to leave as much as anyone else.

"Just don't shot him like you did the last guy, k' " Jager added. Several of his squad mates slowly shook their heads. Angel didn't seem to happy about it either, his expression changing from one of calm indifference to one that resembled a vague disappointment.

"Jager, you're on rear."

The sergeant raised both his arms slightly in his defense, sarcastic remarks were a mainstay of his personality. Be it rain, sleet, snow or hostile fire you could always count on him dropping an observation or a quip. Angels choice on covering Kip was sound though, it seemed wrong for him to spend all that time retrieving the information for him to be killed before he had a chance to look at it.

The nine troopers formed a staggered formation in the room adjacent to the rear door. The floor was littered with the casings that Jager's tyrant had expelled, beginning with a small mountain of them next to the window and spreading. It was disappointing that he had used up all three magazines in the defense which effectively retired 'Misty' for the remainder of the operation. Placing the weapon, minus the magazine, on his back Jager retrieved the M4 which he had packed as backup. This wasn't a task for the revolver, its rather limited capacity and distinctly loud crack meant it was more trouble then it was worth.

"Looks clear, guess they've pulled back" Jeg chimed in over the comm's.

"Stay alert, but keep moving." Angel replied, signaling for the group to begin their half a block slug to their bikes. They moved in pairs of two after Jeg, two would move whilst the two remaining would cover them and so on until it reached Jager then the two in front of him would cover his advance. It was a very standard tactic, but effective. If they managed to keep a good pace the enemy wouldn't have time to counter it effectively, though by Jager's count they weren't prepared to mount  anything more then sporadic, inaccurate weapons fire.

A tap on the back signaled that the Jesters in front of him had all gone. In one fluid motion he moved upright and to the door, covering them on their advance. The backyard was bathed in an eerie glow from the fire that had was emanating from downed speeder. The amber glow reflecting of the white armor that adorned the scattered corpses. Distant shouts echoed across the quiet suburb as the squad continued on their advance. It was astonishing how silent the area had become. By now he figured that most of the civilian population in the area had taken cover in their homes, so it wasn't likely that they'd run into an curious onlookers whilst they made their escape.

Even with their slowed pace they managed to reach the garage in a little under fifteen minutes. The small plume of smoke from the speeder that rose up over the houses the only real indication of their presence. Jager took up a position in the alley with snipes covering the opposite approach as the others mounted their bikes. Both Bright and Stone had doubled up with Jegora and Angel respectively, they were in no real shape to be riding around solo.

Angel was the first out of the garage, his bike idling impatiently as the others mounted theirs.

"Move out one at a time, don't lag behind." Angel ordered. Jager understood the logic in such a move, but he still didn't like it. If all seven bikes were to leave the alley at once it would make an easy target for any attacker. Jager watched as one by one the Jester's left the alley.

Jori kicked his bike into action and had almost reached the street when the sounds of shouting followed by several poorly aimed shots flew by from the opposite end of the alley.

"Good Luck" Jori called as his speeder let out an ascending hum as it took off out of sight.

"Balls... Was wondering when they'd show up" Jager cursed Taking cover behind a large refuse bin. Immediately kicking himself for not taking covering in the garage as he now had to cross the small search parties narrow field of fire. Snipes fire a few shots towards the trio of troopers before reaching for one of the macabre, yet somewhat effective grenades that he had procured earlier.

"I throw, you move." he stated bluntly as the tape covering the grenade was removed.

Jager smirked, "I like it, effective yet to the point"

With a heave the Sergeant threw the farcical grenade towards the advancing troopers, scattering them. Jager wasted no time in dashing to the relative, if temporary safety of the garage. The idle hum of the speeder's engine kicked in as Snipes stomped down on the started. Jager mimicked the movement but with a very different result.

The bike gave a low grunt followed by a fluctuating hum which ended in silence.

"Emperors balls!" he cried in disbelief as he attempted to get the bike running again, but to no avail. By now the party of troopers that had discovered the two sergeants had found their spines and had begun a steady advance on the garage, their footsteps and murmured orders ringing crystal clear down the deserted alley. Jager's knowledge of bikes was limited at best, a fact which he didnt want to remember. He knew how to ride one, how to start a temperamental one and how to break one. But as he went through all the usual steps for starting a troublesome bike, making sure a cable just next to his right foot was properly connected, double checking that the fuel cell wasn't depleted, swearing at it before kicking it, it appeared as though he was running out of options.

"Stop fucking around. we've gotta go" he explained. Jager dismounted and gave the bike a quick yet powerful kick, swearing at the top of his lungs in frustration. Of all the things to happen, this had to be the worst.

"Just ride bitch with," the sergeant called giving a hard yank on his fellow squad mates shoulder. Again Jager cursed as he reverse mounted the bike, so as to get a clear shot at anyone following them. He had never rode in the 'bitch' seat on a bike before, the lack of control and his general mistrust of everyone and everything prevent such an action.

The bike shot out of the garage, sliding to a stop just before the opposite fence. The trio of hostiles all jumped back out of surprise, a surprise which quickly faded as the leader of the group started shouting for them to fire. Jager hastily reached back, retrieving the last head-come-hand grenade.

Ripping the tape off, the sergeant gave an extended middle finger to his opponents followed by a loud "Jester Squad, Motherfucker!" before throwing the makeshift grenade.

The trio dived for cover, giving the two sergeants plenty of time to escape, and before to long they were well clear of the house and its surrounding neighborhood. The plume of smoke again the only indication that they were ever there.