Dagger sat in one of the rooms of Suspense with Tinker, as she tells her about the mission and tries to help her read the words. Tinker looked at her and said, “So I think we covered pretty much everything. When we have more time, I'll try something shorter and easier so you can actually practice.” 

Dagger watched Tinker scratch her head, then she said, “Thank you, Cadie. This was helpful, really. You don't mind, do you?”

Tinker put her hand on Dagger's shoulder and replied, “Not at all, Amelia. But we should probably get ready for the mission. The Suspense will be leaving any minute.”

Dagger nodded and watched Tinker pick up her bag and leave the room. Dagger thought for a minute looking at her bag, "I'll put this away when we get back, there is nothing important, outside of the holo-picture of QW-86 and me.

She opens the bag and takes out the holo-picture. It was small, but you could make out what was happening well. It shows her and her stormtrooper friend QW-86 at a base on Endor before he got killed in a battle nearby. Just before the end, he takes off his helmet and gives her a passionate kiss. She felt something warm go down her face, she puts her hand up and feels a tear on her face, she wipes it off with her hand. She puts the holo-picture back in the bag and walks towards the hanger. When she came in she felt excited as she saw all of the Tie Interceptors. She sees Tinker and walks over to her.

Before Dagger could ask her which one was hers, Tinker started talking, “This is a piece of cake guys. Lets just stay together and keep an ear on that comm, just in case anything changes. Keep your eyes open and report anything that looks even slightly suspicious. Stay awake, do a good job, and I'll buy the first rounds when we get back.”

Dagger nods, and turns to see which one was probobly hers. Tinker tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the one. Dagger smiles and runs to it. She gets into it and straps herself in. She hears Ibram's voice on the comm system. “Sound off, Vipers.”

“Tinker, ready to go”

“Romanflame, go”

“Ferran is green”

“Dagger is a go.”

“Cali, let's go.”

“Jolinar, ready.”

She started her fighter and took off, following the rest. "Being Viper 8, of course I am in last."

She giggled, then turned on her scanners. Nothing came up, so she flew her ship up close behind Tinker and followed her. She was so excited, but it didn't feel like her first time in space. All of a sudden there was this image in her head of her standing in front of an A-Wing fighter.

A man was saying to her, "Everything is set Amelia. You will follow in behind them and take out their main fighters, then you will fly away, towards the surface."

She shook her head and the image was gone. "Must be another one of my dumb dreams, I would never ever fly for the Rebels!"

The space around the tightly clustered TIE’s pressed heavily against Cali’s spirit. Each member of Viper had sounded off with an unsettling nondescript air.  The distance of their squad leader, Tyrol worried Cali, least of all the shocking lack of detail as to their mission objective. It could hardly be called a mission at all. Sitting tight in space, keeping them eyes peeled as the humans would say. There was more fitting expression for this exercise; waiting for death.

The squadron was scheduled to do a four-hour orbit of the system then adopt a shift pattern to cover their remaining time monitoring the activity. That period had equally been left open to ambiguity of vagueness. Cali shuffled with unease inside the low-humming confines of her cockpit. At least there where no asteroids this time, she thought keying in her long range scanners. After a couple seconds the lights on side console registered a neutral, empty corridor of space laying some several hundred klicks in front of the bopping fighters. She noticed her flight consisting of Jolinar and Kyrios form loosely around her solar-array tips to form an inverted diamond pattern.  She clicked her com-link twice to acknowledge their movements and toggled the back-panel sensors of her fighter to register their call-signs to her ship’s computer.  The display also focused on the ISD Suspense looming like a white fang behind their trajectory. An overseer of their monotonous progress, the Star-Destroyer sent a brief short signal to register the beginning of Viper’s operation. The fighters silently sent a returning signal to vessel as the three-wings of Viper split up into their assigned flights.

The black abyss in front of Cali’s gaze extended ever onwards, she ran a nervous gloved finger over her targeting reticule and applied more thrust as the three independent flights diverged on their separate flight paths. Her wingmen followed her suit and she was impressed by Jolinar’s display of restraint in not hurtling off into space and out of flight pattern. She had been aware that the rutian had taken an extended trip to her private quarters based in the Corellian system. Cali hoped it had been a relaxing sojourn or at the very least uneventful. Somehow she figured when Jolinar was involved that was unlikely to be the case. Either way, Jolinar was certainly showing a better level of discipline since her return. Cali doubted it had much to do with her leadership qualities or lack there of. As the Inceptor’s thrust kicked in Cali brought Kyrios’ fighter onto her HUD display. The pompous individual had been uncharacteristically quiet and mannered during their long haul into the Eastern Territories. He had yet to show his due ability with a TIE despite the extravagant claims of his record. A man measured by his words and reputation he had certainly not swayed to her weak attempt to instill some squadron values.

It was difficult to ascertain just exactly what those values where, the squadron itself even during Cali’s brief tenure had seemingly self-imploded during the fray encountered in the Rohk system. Long experienced and valued members had disappeared; Phineus had literally slipped away into the grandeur of the galaxy leaving no trace except the shattered data-pad which Cali now had in her possession. Ferran's had made an amazing recovery from the near-death experience of being exposed to cold space for several hours whilst the squadron had splintered before his drifting body. He was even more distant on his return to active duty but Cali didn't blame him - she couldn't even begin to comprehend what that whole experience had done to him. Only Caddie had seemed to grow from the last mission and even then recent events had shown Cali that young woman was still a fragile package.  There was a dangerous flame which burnt beneath her green eyes which deeply unnerved Cali, Jolinar might be reckless but it was an understandable kind of recklessness but with Tinker there was unknown element threatening to unveil itself during the most inopportune moments.

‘You know what to do Viper.’ The harsh cold tone of Grey whispered itself through her comlink.

That was the problem. They did not know at all.

OOC:

Is Ferran active in the mission or not as I have him recovering?  I guess he is - welcome back Ferran

Epsilon Beta,
Epsilon System

The ISD Suspense arrived in the Epsilon system at 1300 hours local time. Viper Squadron, under the command of Ensign Ibram Tyrol, deployed at 1310. Official orders from Naval Intelligence were encrypted and transmitted directly to Ensign Tyrol at 1320, and decryption took five minutes. Ensign Tyrol took exactly 4 minutes, 32.5 seconds to read the orders through once. He then read through them again, taking slightly longer, and then read them through a third time.

He was still reading and re-reading the orders when the first shots were fired, over two hours later.

--------------------------------------------

“This has got to be one of the most boring missions we’ve been on,” Cali moaned over the secure channel she had open with Cadie.

“This is only your second mission, Cal,” Cadie replied with a smirk

“Still... things were more interesting on the Indigo,” the Twi’lekk replied.

Cadie smiled again whilst she checked her sensor readings for the umpteenth time. Their patrol had taken them towards the sparsely populated mining colony on Epsilon Beta. Ibram had never really stated clearly what they were supposed to be looking out for, which bugged her for some reason. In fact, everything about this bugged her, but she couldn’t figure out why.

Ibram...

She looked over to the front of the formation where Ibram’s fighter was leading the patrol. He hadn’t said a word since shortly after they left the Suspense, and that worried her. She switched to another secure channel, and tried talking with her reclusive commander.

“You ok boss?” she said.

It took a moment for Ibram to respond.

“...yeah... yeah I’m fine Tink. Fine.”

Cadie frowned at his use of the familiar ‘Tink’. It’s not that she didn’t like Ibram using the name, lots of her friends used it, but it’s just that Ibram had never been one for using people’s nicknames. He would always address her as ‘Cadie’, and she had to admit she preferred it that way.

“Anything you want to talk about?” She asked tentatively

“No, I’m fine Cadie... just concentrating on the mission that’s all. You better see to your flight,” he cut off the channel.

Something’s not right, she thought.

Ibram had never been that abrupt with her, not even when she was new. In fact, they had been getting along rather well recently.

She was going to have to confront Ibram when they got back to base, find out what was really bothering him.

I swear, if that cow Grey is harassing him again, I’m going to give her a piece of my mind... and my foot...

----------------------------------------------------

To say that Ibram was having a crisis of faith would be both an understatement, and a poor analogy. Ibram had never been a religious person; in fact few people were these days, at least in the old Imperial territories.

However, the young commanding officer was having a very, very difficult time coming to terms with his latest set of orders. So much so, that he was beginning to question whether or not he was fighting for the right people.

The fact that these orders had come from Lt. Grey, of all people, made it even worse. Reading through the short message he had been sent shortly after undocking from the Suspense, he could just hear her amused voice speaking out to him, and imagine her smiling that stupid grin of hers as he realised, with a an appropriate level of horror, just what they were asking him to do.

I can’t do this... 

But he also knew that disobeying a direct order, especially in this new ‘crackdown’ era, could mean serious consequences for both himself, and his squadron. On the one hand, it looked as if he had no choice, but on the other...

I can’t do this... can I?

His com board started to beep, indicating that someone was trying to talk to him. He really wasn’t in the mood right now. He tried to distract himself by looking out of the viewport and checking his sensor readings, like he should have been doing all this time. He instantly regretted it.

We’re here...

Epsilon Beta was one of the system’s less habitable planets, and so contained only a mining colony. The atmosphere of the planet made it unsuitable for full-scale colonisation, but the raw minerals on were felt to be too important to ignore. The colony itself, simply known as ‘Beta’, was actually one big mobile platform on wheels. Whenever the minerals in the locality were depleted, the entire structure would move to a new location, and operations would start anew. At this time, the colony was on the far side of the planet, and so had no idea what was about to happen in orbit.

Decades into the future, Epsilon Beta’s name would be featured in several works by prominent scholars as they debated what would be known as the ‘Grey Doctrine’. However, that is beyond the lifetimes of this event’s participants, and will be dwelled upon no further.

Ibram’s coms board was still beeping. It was probably Cadie, since she was about the only person who was this persistent, which is one of things he liked about her. He decided to disable the comslock to find out what she wanted.

“Sorry to bother you boss,” Cadie’s voice spoke in his ear. “But a small flotilla just jumped into orbit.”

Ibram checked his sensor readings again, and saw them. Sixteen blips hovering just above the planet: Four Mon-Calamari A-Z-Z-3 light freighters, with 12 hyperdrive-equipped Z-95 Headhunters as escorts. The headhunters were older models by the looks of things, and so shouldn't be too much of a problem. He winced.

“Have they identified themselves yet?” he asked in hope.

“Fraid not sir, I’ve tried hailing them a few times already.”

Of course not... Ibram sighed. It looked like everything was going according to plan. He wondered if it wasn’t too late to pull out now, and accept the consequences...

----------------------------------------------

The unidentified freighters and their escorts arrived at 15:30 local time. Despite several hails from Petty Officer Cadie Reese, they refused to identify themselves. Ensign Tyrol, knowing full well who they were, and what he was supposed to do, was still debating whether or not to order a retreat. The nearest freighter opened fire at 15:35, taking the decision out of his hands. At 15:40, he prayed to any deities that might be watching that they would forgive him and his squadron for what they were about to do.

OOC:

Instruction in the main thread.

After Arthur was given his orders he decided he better follow them or some thing bad might happen with a VENI watching over the squad.  He started to power up his weapons and pick out his target.  The Z-95s started to fire when we didn't back down after the warning shot.  Arthur shield was hit by one of the Z-95s so he choose to get that one first.  Now Arthur did not care if something didn't feel right he was just trying to stay alive now.  Arthur started to fire at the ship when it started to bank to the right.  Arthur gave chase this time he was going to shot one down, and not get disabled.

The Z-95s pilot was good he was banking, turning, and just trying to not cross in my path.  Arthur decided to give up the chase when it got to close to the light freighters.  As he turned the Z-95 followed him now it was time for Arthur to really see how good of a pilot he was.  He was getting shot at the bolts flying past his cockpit he pulled up and right the Z-95 was not expecting that and took his wider so Arthur could get behind it but he soon realized that there was another flying past him he almost hit the other Z-95.

He was glad he missed it and got right to following the first one.  It tried to head to the light freighters again but was stopped by another Viper fighting where it was trying to go.  With the pilot of the Z-95 worried about what was in front, Arthur was able to get a few hits on its hall.  It started to spin right when Arthur got the final shots off destroying it.  Soon after destroying it he went to engage another ship.

Her joke had fallen flat – Cali just didn't get squadie humour; laughter in the face of death. Still her statement had been true it had been a boring mission, until now at least. Headhunter's swarmed her TIE's sensors as the formation of Viper's patrol broke off into evasive maneuvers. She pushed her Interceptor into a low dive, her wingmen followed suit. She hit her comlink, Tyrol hadn't responded to her private channel request – it was either a case that this was part of the mission or their run in with these Mon Cal freighters was an unexpected hassle. She hoped it was the later. She flipped her comlink to Cadie's channel.

“Tinker, what are our orders. I can't get Ibram on the comm.” A bunch of Headhunter's didn't seem an integral engagement to advancement of the Vast Empire's expansion. It's probably jut the local militia from the system or Cali hoped it was. Her flight traced an inverted cockscrew in an attempt to keep space between them and the oncoming threat.

“Cali, I spoke to Ibram. Our orders are to engage the enemy, weapons hot, lets go.” Those where the orders. The Z-95s weren't responding to their request to identify themselves. The balance fell into place between us or them. She pulled her seat traps tightly around her suit in an attempt to brace herself for coming engagement.

“Form up on me Joles, Kyrios – they might only be Z-95s but don't let that fool you. The ship is only ever as good as the pilot.” She did her best to sound wise.

“Ever the messenger of hiko, flight leader.” Jolinar's reply was typical dry. Her shield becoming translucent from the light peppering of the Z-95 fire.

“Stay alive you two.” She closed the channel as a heavy feeling of dread sat upon her in her ill-fitting flight suit.

“Sahak chir.” Jolinar added sarcastically.

Two Z-95's spiraled down into the flight's trajectory spraying the aft of the fighters with charred red embers. Jolinar's fighter banked into a wide turn causing the the two enemy fighters to split their path. The silvery moonlit blue of Jolinar's fighter glimmered in Cali's flight helmet as Jolinar pushed the acceleration of the turn to twice the intensity. Her rutian counterpart's fighter seemed to shine as if the pilot within it was smiling with the glee of the chase. Behind Cali's Interceptor, Kyrios lurched his fighter up into the confusion where the two Z-95 where trying to re-form onto Jolinar's tail. His fighter began a tight roll up into the opening vector between the twinned enemy fighters. There couldn't possibly be enough space for his Interceptor to pass between them. Cali's eyes widened in disbelief and she quickly pulled back on her steering yoke in an attempt to bring the enemy fighter's into her targeting range. The hull of the craft groaned in protest to her harsh maneuvers but she pulled even harder against her fighter's temptation to buckle. Kyrios' TIE suddenly oscillated in a fast anti-clockwise direction bringing his solar-arrays into a vertical position. The tips of his wings emitted a faint green glow and for a split-instance Cali worried that his wings where about to catch fire from the proximity of the Z-95's thrust. The rear thrust of nearest Headhunter disrupted into a torrent of green energy as Kyrios opened his twin-linked fire down along the engine compartment. The unidentified fighter tried to re-correct its course but before Cali's eyes the reflection of the whole pilot chamber became alight in a dirty blaze of mechanical fire. Kyrios' fighter shot through the debris looking as immaculate as the pilots assured grin he had worn when Cali had first meet him.  Her own fighter bulked against the shattered glass of the destroyed Headhunter. The glass tinkled against her viewpoint leaving faint crimson speckles on the surface. She pushed the fighter through the rest of the wreckage ignoring the obvious gore in front of her. The remaining enemy ship had shot wide of both hers and Kyrios' range, the left side of its hull covered in the charred remains of its wing-mate.

“What was th...” Cali began only for Kyrios to cut in across the com-channel.

“Simulation practice. Something the other Twi'lek showed me.” His precise, clipped vowels trailed into the silence between them.

“On your wing flight leader.” He added as if addressing a food-processing droid serving a banquet hall of his most esteemed guests.

“Confirmed.” She responded with her best efforts to mask her annoyance. Typical core-worlders and their assured arrogance . She dialed through her sensors to try and get a lock on Jolinar's location. The rutian had sped off after the remaining Headhunter despite their tactical briefing to remain in patrol formation whenever possible. With growing frustration Cali opened a channel to get through to her rogue member.

“Jolinar, come in. Jolinar, please respond.” There was no reply.

The dull blue planet hung far off with the shimmering crimson glow of the system's sun breaking over the horizon of the planet's weak atmosphere. The Mon-Calamari freighter's listlessly encroached upon the splintering light, the red light smearing their coral-like surface with a ruby smear of fresh blood. Leth dawn. Cali and Kyrios' TIE banked in a loose formation adrift from the tangled bubble of the defending Headhunter's and what Cali presumed to be Tinker's flight. She was unable to discern who was was whom, her scanners only registered an ever changing list of co-ordinates and out-dated squadron numbers. The VENI had requested that Viper had suspended or new roster changes to the official VE records. It was an unsettling feeling to be a part of an off the books operation. None of this action, for all Cali knew, could amount to a 
squalid insignificance of death and a waste of VE resources. She was sure the VE would notice the missing Interceptors. 

“Jolinar, narsu! Come in.” Cali swore to herself. She twisted her throttle stick hard to the right and sent her Interceptor into the fraying cluster of chaos. The mix of laser and blaster fire combined into a blinding white canvas of heated light. Her sensors crackled in response to the encompassed threat around her craft. Two red lights morphed into a basic schematic of the familiar Z-95 shape on her screen coming in close on her rear vector. They opened up onto her engine with weak but persistent blaster fire. She jostled her stick back and forth to reduce the probability of her engines being ignited. Being burnt in your very own personal dura-steel furnace was a particularly gruesome way to leave this plane of existence. But they were no good ways to die.

“If you've picked up anymore tricks from Joles, nows the time Kyrios.” He simply clicked his comlink in response and pulled his fighter into a tight gambol as if he himself had jumped into martial somersault causing his fighter to follow his frame in kind. His Interceptor spiraled out of twist firing some tracing shots as if he were intent on catching the laser streams in front of him.

The Headhunters ineloquently pointed their noses towards the Kyrios' feints. Their shields glowed incandescently against friction of space as they pushed their crafts to match his speed. She waited for them to assume  a completely vertical position pulling her controls tentatively toward her. Cali dialed her acceleration back to bring her fighter to a low holding position effectively making her Interceptor into a stationary gun platform. Missiles would have been better. She ran her glove over the trigger and the dual-lasers of her craft fired intermittently between one another sparking the trailing Headhunter's shield like a wielding tool. Kyrios rapidly dove his fighter down back on his outgoing trajectory almost coming straight down towards to where Cali would be in a matter of par-clicks. His fighter unleashed a volley of laser fire into the path where the Headhunter's had adjusted to in order to escape Cali's snapping fire. Trapping the two fighter's between their combined laser fire the Headhunters banked into opposing barrel-rolls. Given their shielding and Cali's unfocused shots the Headhunters broke off the engagement freeing themselves into the open space. In that instance, Cali realized that herself and Kyrios where about to have an uncomfortably close meeting. Her hands froze over the controls and Kyrios quickly pulled away from his flight trajectory as Cali sat dumbfounded as the underside of his cockpit careened past his view port. Her jawbone pushed up against her eye sockets as her neck craned back in an animal instinct as if the action would prevent her colliding with the massive mass of Kyrios' fighter. A shock went through her spine and in a shudder she pushed her yoke down and the two fighters passed within inches of collision. Kyrios fighter ripped past her creaking vessel in fast pursuit of the escaping Z-95.

Her breathe was hollow as she emptily realigned her craft. The com was silent. Kyrios hadn't said anything. He probably hadn't even noticed. She exhaled lightly into the life support system. She scanned with disorientation the screen, an agitated group of red lights filtered and blinked rapidly on the pale green screen. Her lekku vibrated beneath the restraint of her body pressed hard against her cockpit in dread.

Tinker banked the TIE Interceptor as the onslaught of Headhunter's filled her viewport. She watched as they unloaded their weapons on the squadron and the transports maneuvered to cover the Z-95s from their position behind them to Cadie's perspective. Roman came up behind her and mirrored her movements.

Two Headhunter's twisted and moved on Tinker and Roman's position. Cadie watched their maneuvers and was careful not to steer them too close to the transports. They were slow and not made for combat, but their lasers packed a punch just like any other if you lost focus and got too close, she wanted to get these smaller fighters off their tail before dealing with that.

“Break off Roman, lets separate these two.”

“Copy, Tinker.”

She could see Roman, break and engage the fighter. Tinker got back to the task at hand, she had her own problem currently shooting bolts of light at her backside. Grabbing the yoke, Cadie twisted and turned to keep the fire away from her shields. This was supposed to be an easy patrol mission for frak's sake. Not that Tinker minded, this is the part of the job that was fun truth be told.

A flash of light caught her attention, Roman had shot down his target. “Roman, you could have just disabled that fighter.”

“But that wasn't the orders, Tink.” Roman was flying through the fire and debris that was a Z-95 and had throttled up to catch up to Cadies position.

“I know but, just, I don't see the need in shooting them down. We may need to find out what the hell is going on and we won't find that out if they are all dead.” Cadie spoke through clenched teeth, she still had one of the bastards on her tail after all. She had to divert her attention once more to focus on her flying. Her argument would be pretty pointless if she was the one that got shot down.

Looking out into the blackness of space, the scene was now full of not only stars but Z-95 Headhunters and transports all firing green bolts in the direction of the squadron. Cadie twisted the yoke again bringing the TIE up into a loop and decelerating. Tinker was surprised when the trick worked, the Z-95 was now in her sights she could have blown it to bits but hesitated.

Another flash of light made Cadie flinch. Cali's voice came over the comm. “Well done, Kryios. Now lets finish off those other two.”

Cadie knew she was dangerously close to disobeying orders here, but she needed to say what she had to say. She kept on the headhunter in her sights, she had no intention of letting him get away regardless of what was about to happen.

“Cali, do you have any identity on these fighters?” Cadie chewed on her lip has she waited for the answer, her features in a permanent scowl from all the worry going through her mind as she reflected on the actions they were taking.

“No, Tinker, same as before. Are you planning on shooting that guy or you just going to dance all night?” When Tinker did not respond to her, Cali continued. “Tink, its kill or be killed, now what are you going to do?”

Cadie clenched her jaw. “We can disable them.”

“Are you sure? I think we need to just shoot them down and be done with this.” Dagger's voice came into Cadie's ears, the girl sounded nervous but she was making all efforts to hide it from the others.

Ibram's gruff voice came over the comm. Cadie could tell something was weighing on him, something about this mission it all just didn't fit. “No survivors, thats an order Tinker. Now get to work.”

Oh we are having a long, long talk when we get back. Cadie narrowed her eyes, the anger fueling her now. She grumbled, her voice low and menacing. “Yes sir.”

Under her breath she muttered, “Frak it”, then squeezed the trigger. She watched as the bolts flew in slow motion before slamming into the headhunter. He should have avoided them, he should have known enough about piloting to avoid them, any NR pilot would have. But he didn't and the ship erupted into a brilliant light before fling apart in sparkling ashes.

I've had enough, lets get this over with. Cadie twisted the TIE and went after her next target, it was past time to go back to the Suspense and have that talk with Ibram.

“We can disable them.” Cadie' voice ached with bitterness and dismay.

Cali'reharn hopped her TIE Interceptor behind the faint jet-stream of Kyrios' fighter as the both pursued the persistent gaggle of Z-95 headhunters. She toggled her schematic display of the wire-frame prototypical designs more recognizably associated with the New Republic's X-Wings. The cockpit resonated with a slow, constant hum of her the power to her shields struggling to keep with her increasingly reckless flying. Cadie's voice had to Cali's mind echoed around the tight, compact tomb like a sacred oath in a grand temple. The statement was admirable, Viper squadron had no concrete idea who they where up against. Yet here they where fiercely engaged in deadly combat with what where unknowns. All out-going com requests for identification had fallen flat against a wall of static and scrambled encryption. It worried Cali that her fighter's computer wasn't able to identify even the encryption source – the VE was more than capable of scrambling their own Navy's communication but to what purpose. The shuddering of cockpit increased as more stray laser fire took its tool on her every dwindling shield resources. No time for conspiracy theories. Only space and the flickering flame fighting against extinguishing winds.

With Kyrios charging the metaphorical and literal warpath the two Interceptors gained space on the fleeing headhunters. She laced leading laser fly to coax the unknown enemy towards Kyrios focused fire. The flagging fighter suffered a piercing volley of fire to  right maneuvering jet. It veered chaotically out of their joint line of fire into a messy spiral. She flicked her com to Kyrios to indicate she was breaking off after the damaged the fighter. There was a clipped reply from him, simply;

“Go.”

“No survivors...” Com-static seared against Tyrol's tired voice. The strain on Cali' resource must have weakened her communication systems. The whole fighter felt immensely fragile and likely to tear apart like ribbons in the hands of an overexcited child.

The Headhunter she was pursuing was leaking engine fluid and leaving a dark brown trail in its desperate path like an injured deep sea creature. The damage had knocked out any serious maneuverability the craft could have against Cali's dagger-shaped fighter. She nipped in close at the enemies underbelly releasing a volley of mid-powered laser fire towards the nose of the cockpit. Most of the fire was deflected by the light hue of the Headhunter's shields but a few persistently wiggled through as the enemy's shield failed. The sunk like molten icicles through the cheap durasteel of the outdated fighter. Perversely satisfying electrical fires broke out like a vicious rash along the underside of the Headhunter's hull. Cali raked her acceleration down hypnotized by the tapestry of destruction in front of her. The mini-network of electrical volcanoes suddenly erupted in unison as the Z-95 became engulfed in mechanical failure. There was no attempt by the opposing pilot to veer off its doomed spiraling course. The fighter just dwindled downward in a deadly display of acceptance.

How could there be any survivors with such power and technology in the hands of even a relative amateur like Cali. There was no need for blood thirst when the confines of space and efficiency of her craft reduced the act of taking another's life was reduced to vectors, engineering and physics. Her Interceptor had been vastly superior to the enemies damaged craft – that was a simple equation. There didn't seem much room for moral maneuvering. The Empire was a systematic machine that strove towards order at the expense of some high grounds, Cali knew that much. It was the slightly sour tasting inequality, the necessary deletion of some rogue figures and numbers in order to balance the sum of this order. She couldn't give this mathematics much consideration nor the deceased unknown pilot she had just killed as she was forced into wide barrel roll as the oncoming debris careened into her solar-array paneling. She cursed furiously as she felt the right wing of her Interceptor buckle from the weight of the remains of Z-95 scrapping along her no longer pristine emerald tinted blue paint job. It was if the fraying remains of the Headhunter had become possessed by the avenging spirit of the deceased pilot and was determined to drag Cali and her fighter into his phantom realm. The barrel roll had only caused the debris to latch on into the ruts of her wing's structure and the rotation brought the twisted perilously close to her engines. She shacked the control yoke violently to try and free herself from the wreckage but to no visible effect. There was a worrying clunking sound coming from the rear of Cali's earshot as no doubt the metal caused technical and mechanical damage to her fighter. She shot a hasty look around her visuals. Kyrios was baiting yet more of the remaining Headhunters and Cadie's wing swirled like far off insects engaged in an insignificant hazy evening dance of nature. No one aware of Cali's literal entanglement. More cursing was necessary, as if to make up for all unavailable options of resolve.

The debris continued to shudder against her spinning craft and Cali felt like her cockpit was being slowly ground down like spices under an ancient stone-mill. Her shields went red to indicate her Interceptor was not going to take more battering. Her back tightened up in a spasm of stress and fear causing her to wince whilst the clunking sound  became more and more pronounced. The ghost was intent on its purpose and Cali felt that superstition was about to claim another victim of reason for its horde of souls. In desperation she rooted full thrust to her left thrusters to force off the parasitical hulk latched on to her ship. The two masses crunched from the increased velocity, her eyes widened as the sounds became accompanied with volatile vibrations. Her ship was not designed for this. The Interceptor was not a battering ram but she continued to force the ship against the pressure. She was convinced she could hear the individual wielding joints of the craft snapping in perfect singularity. She feels that her bones will make a similar sound, precise cracks in a scale. She awaited for her body to be tuned.

Searing light suddenly encompassed the whole chamber of her cockpit. Was this the passing over into the beyond? The fatal moment?

“Sorry I'm late to enki, lia'ry.” Jolinar's voice was not of the gatekeeper to the divine threshold.

“Qa? Qaon? Schutta...” Cali mumbled in her mother-tongue convinced she was no longer of this realm.

“I think this qualifies as a drink owing gesture flight leader.” Jolinar swung her craft on behind Cali's unleashing expertly pointed shots vaporizing the matted hulk of what had once been a Z-95 headhunter.

“Ka, pahgan muchi.” Cali's response was that of some awaking from an overlong stint in the bacta tanks.

“I'm holding you to it.” Jolinar sniped.

“Ka, ka let us make sure there is point in the future where you can muchi.” Cali replied more coherently as the craft steadied. Her eyes stung with sweat. There was a protocol to survival.

“Flight – take out the enemy as if your life depended on it.” Of course it did. “Do not disable, terminate the threat.” She added. She would exterminate all ghosts before this mission was out.

ISD Suspense
En route to Badajoz Station

There was an eerie quiet in the rec room that had become Viper’s home away from home whilst they were aboard the Suspense. Everyone was gathered there, yet no one was talking. Anyone else would have wondered why the pilots didn’t go and do their own thing, but then anyone else wouldn’t have understood the mood, wouldn’t have understood that the last thing the Viper’s wanted was to be alone.

Ironically, most of them weren’t exactly sure why. Whilst the mission had gone smoothly – zero casualties, no collateral, etc... The men and women of Viper couldn’t help but think that something wrong had happened.

Ibram was sitting in his office, staring blankly at the desk in front of him. A part of him felt hollow inside, like it had died... or gone into hibernation. He knew why the squadron was down, why there was an air of despair about the place. He knew very well.

Leaning back in his chair, Ibram could still remember the end...

----------------------------------------

Two hours previously

Ibram finished off the last of the Z-95’s as two of the freighter’s went up in a ball of debris.  The other two had finally given up hope and were breaking away from orbit, firing their light cannons wildly in an attempt to stave off the inevitable.

“Well that’s one way to do it,” Tinker’s voice floated over the squadron wide com channel.

“Screw you Reese, this mission blows and you know it!” Roman shot back at her. Ibram had been half keeping an eye on the squadron during the action, and it seemed Roman had tried to disable one of the freighters instead killing it.

Nice try kid, he thought sadly.

“Stow it pilot,” Tinker replied. “We have a job to do and we’re damn well going to do it!”

“I’ll show you where you can shove your ‘job’ mam...’

“Why you-“

“Ok that’s enough,” Ibram cut in. By this point he had pulled his fighter around and was a lazy trajectory that would take him towards the remaining two freighters. Tinker and Roman were flying side by side in formation, also in pursuit of the freighters, although it looked like Tinker was going to ram her bird into Roman at this rate...

“There’s only two of them left, me and Cali will take care of them. Tinker, take the rest of the squadron back to the Suspense, that’s an order.”

“... yes sir,” she eventually said.

Ibram locked onto the nearest freighter as Tinker and the rest of the squadron pulled out. Judging by her subdued tone, he knew he was going to get an earful when he got back. At least it would prove a suitable distraction...

“Cali, lock and engage. Let’s get this over with.”

“Roger,” The Twi’lekk replied. Ibram wondered at how calmly she seemed to take everything. No wait, it wasn’t calmness, it was something else...

Ibram took stock of his armaments as his targeting computer acquired a lock on the freighter. He only had two missiles left, so he was going to need to work on the shields a bit with his lasers before firing.

He kicked his engines into gear and brought his lasers up to full strength as he bared down on the helpless freighter.

One pass ought to do it...

Letting loose a torrent of fire with his laser, Ibram streaked passed the Freighter. The ship was weaker then he thought, as the shields were completely overloaded by the laser fire and collapsed, somehow taking the engines with them. The helpless ship started to list in space.
Ibram considered just letting it burn up in the atmosphere, but then realised that would kinda be worse than the fate he was supposed to dish out the crew of the ship. Pulling his ship about in a slow arc, he armed his two remaining missiles and settled into a target lock.

Off to port, the other freighter exploded in a blaze of glory. Cali’s fighter burst through the centre of the explosion the debris slowly expanded around her.

Here we go, he thought as he pulled the trigger. No sooner had the missiles been released however, then a burst of static assaulted Ibram’s earpiece. He tried to shield his eardrums from the noise, but then the static abated and was replaced by something else: Sobbing.

“FOR THE LOVE OF FRAK, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?”

Ibram’s communication’s board informed him that the transmission had come from the freighter, moments before said freighter was blown into a million pieces.

--------------------------------------------

Ibram woke up with a start. He must have fallen asleep at his desk as several hours had passed since he had sat down. Someone must have been in to check on him as the lights were dimmed and there was a mug of caf on his desk.

He checked his messages, and his heart sank as he read through the first one:

==========================
Congratulations on your first successful mission, I knew you had it in you.

I have new orders for you, but those can wait till tomorrow.

Ciao.

Lt. Grey
==========================

OOC:

Just a short one, but it's to set the scene. Instructions in the main topic.

Jolinar was curled up tightly in her chair.  Her lekku were wrapped loosely around her neck, indicating her distress.  She was uncharacteristically wearing a long-sleeved shirt that reached to mid-thigh on her and her coat wrapped tightly around her body.  Despite that, she was still cold.  The recent mission had rattled her.  Jolinar had done plenty of dark and vile things in her life, including torture, kidnapping, and assassination.  None of her previous jobs had ever required the killing of someone who didn't know why they died.  Of course, she'd always been careful to do her research on potential employers and bounties before accepting jobs.  Uncharacteristic for a Mandalorian, given their reputation as greedy mercenaries who'll do anything for enough credits.  They did have a sense of honor, however skewed it might be with some of them.  Even Boba Fett had an honor code.  Jolinar shivered and reached up to brush away something that was tickling her cheek.  Her fingers came away wet, and she furrowed her brow in confusion.  Jolinar wiped her other hand across the other cheek and it too came away wet.  She sat curled up in her chair studying the moisture on her hands as if she couldn't quite figure out where it had come from.  An almost-thought tried to form, but it drifted away like smoke the moment she tried to grasp it.

Finally, Jake obtained what he had been dreaming with: a perfect score in the Aviator's Exam, and an inmediate transfer to his new squadron.

"Remember that from now on you are in Viper Squadron.. Viper 11 is your new codename.

Now take this shuttle and fly to the coordinates I've assigned you in your on-board computer. You should encounter the rest of your squadron there. Your ship is in the shuttle as well." - said StOrMz.

"And I know you knew this already, but don't forget to reply with both your callsign and codename the first time you arrive, ok? Well then.. good luck in your new destination." - repeated for 11th time as Stormrider was turning his engines on.

As Stormrider was taking off and was preparing the hyperdrive systems, he started to think that would be the last time Stormrider would see his Training Officer for a long while...

En route to Badajoz Station

After the hyperspace jump, just like his Training Officer said, Stormrider could see in the distance the station, with the ISD Suspense docked as well. As he was heading towards its position, he received an incoming transmission:

"This is Command Room to Unidentified Vessel. Identify inmediately."

"Command Room, this is Senior Crewman Stormrider, assigned as Viper 11. Requesting access."  - replied while thinking about StOrMz words.

...

"Looks like everything's correct. Ok Viper 11, access granted. You can land now in the open hangar. Please readjust your approach vector and speed and initiate landing sequence." - heard Stormrider as he was calming down.

Stormrider checked all his systems in the ship to find out everything was correct.. He thought it was funny because usually it's never that way.

Once everything was ready, Stormrider landed into the assigned hangar, and switched off all systems.

All of a sudden, Stormrider found himself inside the Destroyer and was about to meet his new partners, completely unaware of what had been happening before.

After leaving the ship, Stormrider began to hear another transmission:

"Viper 2 to Control, this is Uris Hogan, requesting access."

"Control to Viper 2, correct. Access granted. Land in the open hangar. Please readjust your approach vector and speed and initiate landing sequence."

While listening, Stormrider could see how another ship was landing near the one he'd just left... He thought it would be a good idea to give him a welcome, since no one else was there to welcome any of us.

And so, Stormrider approached his ship as Uris was leaving it.

"Uris Hogan? Welcome to the station. Stormrider here. I've arrived just 5 minutes before you.

So.. I guess we're the new guys in here.. however I see there's no one else besides you and me belonging to our squad in the hangar.." - told him while staring to the next door.

"I don't think it's a good idea to stay here and wait until they welcome us.. we better go and find them ourselves... Follow me." - said Stormrider while leading to the next room.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The storm has arrived.. and is ready to be ridden...

FM/SCRW Jake 'Stormrider' Logan/Viper 11/Wing1/mSSD Atrus/1Flt/VEN/VE (=*A*=) [SoA]

The Badejoz spacestation was its own entity. The whole galaxy could be going down the sewerage disposal unit and this place would keep its lazy orbit with an unstoppable churn.  Cali’reharn was distractingly flicking the back of her teeth with a dry tongue in much need of strong refreshment. She had decided against a drink though as it would not do her nerves any good; well perhaps she was more concerned that it would do her too good.  Instead, she swirled a transparent stick around a glass full of herbal blandness. It was one those new dietary crazes. All you needed to do was drink this brew three times a day instead of your normal meals and it was apparently guaranteed to give you all the nutrients your body required to stay fit and sharp.  The fact that glass remained half full indicated to Cali at least that her body was coping fine without it.  Still the Twi’lek had no stomach for caf despite half of the naval squadrons seemed to mainline the stuff when they were not hitting the cantina with gusto. It was vile human concoction. To Cali it reminded her of the brown muddy steamed mix they used to feed the animals out in the farming clans back home. She could certainly sketch similarities between the management of livestock and that of the naval institution she was currently calling home.  It was simple; keep them feed, keep them warm but with enough wanting to keep them keen that way you could get them to do anything.  With that thought she dropped the stirrer into the glass with a shudder.

Cali and Ibram had said nothing to each other but she could tell that he knew that she had heard the fatal and final transmission from enemy. 

“FOR THE LOVE OF FRAK, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?”

She closed her eyes. You can’t answer the dead, not with any closure or addressing of a sense of balance.  If Cadie or any of the others found out, Cali feared there would be all out mutiny. She had wisely opted to maintain a low profile until her commander made his move.  She accepted the circumstance she was in. She knew what the Vast Empire was about. During the down time after the failure of Operation Indigo she had done some digging in archives of Naval records, below the radar of course.  Her efforts had proved frustrating especially given her limited splicing abilities. Viper squadron’s entries criss-crossed the Navy’s records like a recessive gene, disappearing among the files and mission logs only to reappear with venom. Unfortunately most references to her squadron where clouded in high-level authorisation and encryption that she couldn’t even begin to fathom. That lack of revelation in of itself gave Cali reason for concern. What she had been able to decipher had only given her a slight inkling of the squadron’s true nature and she was sure that the squadron’s humble beginnings of a light reconnaissance unit where long behind them now. There hadn’t been any repercussions from her digging around and now that she had been promoted to flight leader it was easier to track her higher official actions and block any unwanted attention. Such was the benefits of bureaucracy. 

There were too many holes and loose ends in the history to make sense of the squadron’s role in the Navy’s operation.  Cali reflected with considerable irritation the ludicrous actions of that half-wit madmen Rutian on Viper’s last fiasco.  What was the Navy playing at utilizing such an unstable resource, it seemed to reek of the stench of special forces and inter-department machinations trying to outwit the other side.  His presence deeply unnerved her, her lekku twitched frantically just thinking about his cut-glass stare. He had been absent directly after his botched stint of stealth pilot, Cali hoped with all her spirit that it remained that way.  She sipped her drink with visible disgust both at the taste and at the thought of that Twi’lek.  The sound of business and slander rumbled behind her as the spacestation carried like it would continue to do so long after she and Viper had gone.

“At your desk ma’am?”

“Huh?”

It was Kyrios.

“Oh,  hello crewman. How are you fairing after the skirm-“

“Fairing well, ma’am.” Cali was convinced he must practise his skill of interruption.

“Good, you did well out there.” She tried to pitch the tone of her voice to sound complimentary.

“You expected otherwise?” For a brief second his condescending gave way to offended.

“N-no, that isn’t are way here.” This time she went for the tone of officialdom, again another mistuning.

“Is not.” He corrected her.

“Well it’s good to see that the mission hasn’t had any ill-effects on you Kyrios.” She sighed inwardly at the man’s grammatical decorum.

“We’re used to such rabble. Put them down on the streets back home.”  His voiced swelled with pride as he stared off behind Cali into his own personal past.

“Anaxes sec-forces wasn’t it?” His file was not one that had been encrypted and was open for even the lowest of rank to see.

“Very sharp ma’am.”  There was genuine warmth to his voice and his grey eyes finally focused on her.

“It’s my witches brew.” She picked up her glass and gave it a shake, rattling the stick back and forth in a mocking tinkling sound.

“Quite.” His face was stuck in a ghastly pout.

“You were saying crewman?” Best not to hurt his feelings, if that was indeed possible she mused.

“Yes, at ASF there was always discontent from those at the lower levels of Pol Anaxes. Pirates, drug-rats you must know the type?” His voice seemed suggest that she must know these unfavourable characters as associates, people she knew intimately.  Whilst it was true she hadn’t been afford to live in the most affluent and cut off places of cities and spaceports she never socialised with the kind. Not through choice anyway.

“Scum exists on the ground, in the sky. That’s why I came here. You clean up the streets but there’s always more coming into port ma’am. It is logical I am of more use to my people trying to police the larger network of filth rather than try to inoculate my beautiful city.” His voice was grave.

He was for real. His morality almost caused her to choke on her bitter herbal mix. Does the mind and soul good, three times a day get healthy without need to delay, that was the drinks slogans. Perhaps the company should hire Kyrios as there endorse celebrity. He certainly conducted himself as one.

“Well I’m not sure we’re much in the business of polic-“

“But we’re that thin line between these good people,” He swung his robed arm in a wave around him indicating that he meant the inhabitants of the spacestation as the good people, “from the swarming squalor outside.” This time he shot his arm towards the viewport and the black space beyond. He was an actor with Cali as the single member of the audience. 

“I’m sure the good people are in our debt.” Cali managed straight faced.

“Do you think so ma’am?” His eyes where glistening with an electric curiosity of pride and honour. She had to avert his gaze for risk of blushing in embarrassment. Her left lekku flicked behind as she failed to contain her disbelief. For her, he didn’t seem versed in her subtle communication.

“We can but judge that for ourselves crewman.” It was difficult to like this man given his overbearing chivalry but he had saved her skin back out there amongst the squalor as he put it. She might not buy into his black and white view of the galaxy but she knew it was good to have a man like him in her flight. He would fly true and follow what he believed to be worthy orders. He must not find out what voices she and Ibram had heard. His reaction would be beyond her capabilities to handle it.

He stood there as he mused in his own silent reverie of grand duty.  Cali stared into her glass as those desperate cries echoed in her mind. She was alive, she thought. She was alive because of knight like Kyrios had done the time in the simulation. She was alive because she shot to kill. They weren’t.  With an icy long gulp of a bitter mix she resolved her heart from sinking deeper; so much for that she thought.

“Ma’am did you hear that they reassigned that portly fellow, Callahan was it not?” Kyrios had resumed his fixed stare upon her and leaned on his arm in a dandy fashion.

“You mean Mal?” He was referring to the old-timer that had been assigned to Cadie’s wing. She had heard rumours that he had been left out of exercise apparently his flight fitness had been called into question by that Grey woman. Cali reckoned it was a less of case of the excess gut he was carrying and more the case of experience. He’d probably have sniffed out the problem as soon as they had engaged the enemy. Yes, she was sure that man’s eyes had seen enough of the universe when to sense something rotten.

“Yes, engineering core isn’t it? He seemed keen with a tool-kit. Make sense, Kyrios. It’s good to have a man like him making sure we can get up in the air and more importantly stay there.” She nodded more to herself then him.

“I doubt the man would have fit in the flight suit.” He scoffed at his own insult. Cali did not join in. It seemed that Kyrios wasn’t beyond judgements of character based on someone’s physical short-comings.

“Can’t have someone like him weighing us down.” He continued spurred on by his guffawing. It was a ridiculous sound like someone hyper-ventilating through a horn.

“Please...excuse....pp...excuse.....m...e...ma’am.” He managed to get his message through his own retching laughter. Cali merely waved a limp salute as Kyrios sauntered off into the crowded hub-bub of the markets stands of these good people. Let’s hope the pick-pockets where out in force, Cali thought scornfully.

She bit her knuckle. What was good about any of them?

Someone coughing startled Jolinar out of her fog.  She wiped her hands on her pants and used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her face.  Various members of the squadron were sitting around the room in different states.  Some together, and some alone as she had been.  She unwrapped her lekku from around her neck but let them drape down her chest.  Jolinar was still cold, and decided to walk around a bit to warm up and to get out of the room.  She blamed her unusual reaction on the general mood, though a nearly-silent part of her mind taunted her and told her she knew that wasn't the whole truth.  With one final glance around the room, Jolinar stood and walked out to wander the ship.  She almost smiled at the realization that if she kept this up she'd know every inch of the ship by the time they reached their destination.

Soon after Arthur landed he took off to the gym he need to release his anger on something before he hit someone.  He did not even bother to wrap his hands as he normally did.  He went to the first open bag and ripped it off the stand by how hard and fast he was hitting the thing.  After it fell he did not stop hitting the thing with every thing he had available.  He continued going at it there were holes everywhere in the bag and his horns had scraps of leather on them.  By that time everyone in the gym was staring at him.

He did not like people staring at him when he was as mad as he was so he gathered he gear removed the leather and he was about to leave when he noticed his hands were bleeding he wrapped he hands to stop the bleeding and headed to his quarters because that is the one place he knew he wouldn't be bothered.  He was staying away from Cadie, and Ibram.  He knew they would want some answers for the reason he verbally attacked her.

He sat in his room for a few hours trying to calm down.  When he finally left he went to the cantina to eat he sat completely alone.  He ate in peace, he noticed people from his squad come in and they saw him and decided to sit some where else.

Arthur really wanted to know why the freighters weren't shooting back at them.  He knew that he wouldn't find out from anyone, but he needed to know why.

He headed back to his room this time to get some sleep.  He still did not want to run into Cadie he did not know what would happen to them if they would fight or if he would feel some repercussion for his actions.  He was almost there when he saw her standing at his door waiting for him.  He walked to his room got in and locked the door before Cadie could say a thing to him.

He knew that things could be worst for him but at this point he did not care.  Things were bad because he tried to disable the ship instead he destroyed two with one attack run.  Cadie was knocking at his door but he did not answer "I know your in there.  We need to talk," She said.

"Go away" Arthur responded.

"No! we need to talk," there was no response.

Cadie rolled her eyes as she stood outside the door that contained her wingman. Roman needed to talk, hell she needed to talk. This day was getting longer and longer as the minutes began to feel like hours. Roman had disobeyed a direct order. He needed to own up to that, it was a pretty major offense when they were depending on each other in those cockpits.

“Arthur, we really need to talk. Come on.” Cadie tried to soften her voice, but even after the horrible nightmare of a mission she was confronted by Dagger, then found out the truth from Ibram and then Rutian was hiding in Ibram’s office. It was almost like something that should have been funny off a holoshow.

The door clicked and slid open. It showed a very upset looking Arthur on the other side. Cadie just nodded towards a few chairs in his quarters and walked inside the door. She immediately sat down and started to rub her temple waiting for him to take the seat across from her.

“You disobeyed a direct order Arthur.” She still had her hand over her face. She wanted to go to the cantina, she wanted a very large glass and a bottle of whiskey.

“I’m sorry. I just knew something was wrong, it was a feeling I couldn’t shake it.” He acted angry, but Cadie could tell he was more upset about what had happened. She was a master at using anger to cover up every other emotion imaginable.

Cadie dropped her hand and looked at the young pilot. “Yeah. You were right. But that doesn’t fraking mater Arthur. You have my back up there, and I told you to fire. It was a direct order, and it better not happen again. Do I make myself clear crewman?”

Arthur just looked more confused than ever, he nodded slowly. Then Cadie got up and patted him on the shoulder before letting herself out of the small quarters. She needed to escape before she said anything else. And she was damn sure leaving before her eyes even though about watering again.

She almost ran from Arthur’s room to the cantina, and did not slow down until she ran into the bar. Sliding onto a stool she rubbed her hand through her red hair. Tinker was tired, she probably should be in bed, but the dreams she knew were coming was enough to keep her far away from her bunk.

She ordered her usual from the bartender and watched with little emotion as he placed a glass in front of her and filled it with corellian whiskey. Cadie did not even look up when Cali sat next to her, already holding her own beverage. Cadie smirked, ten credits says whatever is in that glass it’s far from alcoholic. 

“Cali.” Tinker muttered rubbing her fingers up and down the short glass of whiskey in front of her. 

“You okay, Cadie?” Tinker frowned and turned her head to look at the Twi’lek sitting next to her. Cali and her had their differences. But Cadie respected Cali’s flying ability and she knew that she meant well. Certain things just set her off, it was that anger is easier that actually feeling thing all over again.

“It’s been a long day, Cali. That’s all.” Cali was far from convinced but she nodded and slowly moved away. It was likely that she just did not want to upset Tinker again. Last time she accidentally did that Tinker punched a light fixture. Cadie looked at her hand and flexed it as she sat there.

Sighing, Cadie downed the drink and stood up. She almost walked to her bunk, to sleep or maybe to drink some more, not like she didn’t have a stash of whiskey bottles there. A man in a Viper uniform caught her eye. She knew him, his name was Zala or something like that. He had been with them, he just didn’t often socialize with the others.

Tinker, against her better judgment, walked over to the pilot. “Everything okay Zala?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Zala muttered and kept on drinking something Cadie could not identify.

“It wasn’t an easy mission. It’s okay for you to be a bit shaken by it. Just try to get some rest okay?” Funny, Cadie did not believe a single word she had just said. Luckily, it seemed to have some effect on the young pilot. He looked up and nodded.

Cadie smirked and left the room, to drink some more and hopefully pass out and get some dreamless sleep.

Scorpius Black entered the tavern. The bartender looked up from cleaning glasses long enough to acnowledge the new visitor in the bar. Scorpius made his way through the old looking tables and found one he liked in the corner of the room.

He sat down, propped his feet on the edge of the table, leaned back and observed the other patrons. "Something," thought Scorpius, "doesn't seem right here. I just can't put my finger on it."

after a few moments a waiter came around. "Can i get you something?" she asked.

"An ale." Scorpius replied. "A strong one."

As the waitress left to fill the order scorpius told her "keep em comin. im gunna be here a while."

As the night drew on, people Scorpius didn't know, came and left. Scorpius always watching. A fight broke out, but was resolved quickly and the participants arrested.

Half way through the night, a man dressed in black, sat himself at Scorpius' table. Scorpius brought his feet to rest on the floor and leaned in to here what the man had to say.

"I had a hard time tracking you here, old friend." the man said.

"I obviously didn't try hard enough, Walter." At this they both shared a quick laugh. "What do you need?"

"Information." Walter replied.

"It will cost much." Scorpius told him.

Walter laid a sack with some money in it on the table and the two talked for a while.

"Thankyou my friend." Walter said as he stood up and walked out. A man dressed in Viper Squad uniform made his way closer to Scorpius.

"Are you Leading CrewMember Scorpius Black?"