“Ya know,” Snipes said, rocking gently back, “No matter how angry I am, no matter how depressed there is something about a sunset and the night sky that calms me down, calms the beast, it works doubly on land, on the hard dirt of a planet.”

“It's time,” Visah said, behind him.

Snipes sighed, standing up from the recliner, letting it rock gently forward, the cool night breeze cooled his sunburnt skin as he descended the stairway from the star-port roof, leaving for the last time the recliner, crate, bottle and glass, as he walked down the stair he realized that he hadn't felt this way for a long time, he was tired, his muscles burned from heavy labor, his skin burned from the heat of the sun, but he felt good, he hadn't felt this way since his days in the Stormtrooper Corps. He felt excited, too, like a young soldier before his first mission, he felt at one with his people, he felt united, and like there was no other place he'd rather be.

They reached the last door, Snipes inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh night air. Visha held forward his crown, he smiled and placed the golden monstrosity upon his head, it slid to one side, but was a comfortable weight upon his head, he removed a cigarette from inside his long coat, it was twisted and bent, but still good, he placed it in his lips, she held forth a lighter and lit the end, he smiled at her, smoke pouring from his nose and teeth, every bit the mad pirate king he was.

He strode out the last door as soon as it slid open, into the cool night. His ship was there, the gleaming black and red Corellian Hound, fixed at last, refueled and resupplied, only one order of business left. The crew were gathered around a circle of burning torches in front of the ship, they hushed and opened a pathway as he strode near. He nodded to each he knew well as he neared the circle. Kelevra, Merrick, Corlie, Bastard, Aeos. When he entered the circle he looked over the three he shared it with and their guards. He nodded to the guards, members of Laughing Bastards, The Queens of Madness and The Blades. The captives were clad, with exception of their heads, in shining silver armor, heavy armor, an archaic style. Once-white tabbards  were hung over the armor, and both were dirtied with fighting and hardship. Snipes sighed.

He inhaled deeply through his cigarette before he began, “You are hereby charged with the following crimes: Assault, battery, coercion, attrition, invasion, disturbing the disorder of The Locker, destruction of company property and most grievous, trying to kill me. What say you to that?”

The middle one, clearly older, his long dirty blonde hair fell around a face scarred by conflict, the hard face of a lifelong soldier, hidden behind dirty blond stubble. He pushed himself halfway to his feet as, pushed again to the ground by The Blades representative, but not before he spit in the face of the pirate king.

Snipes grimaced and wiped it away with one hand, “Sticky,” he said in disgust, “I'll take that as 'we are guilty and deserve to die'. Makes it easy, your punishment for your varied and sordid crimes shall be keelhauling.” Snipes cocked his head to the crew, “String 'em up.”

A roar came up from the crowd as a hundred and fifty pirates raised weapons in the air, firing blasters and slug-throwers alike as the guards tied the captives hand and foot and raised them across the bow of the proud Corellian Hound.

Snipes job done, he turned with a swish of his coat and left as the mob celebrated the destruction of their enemy. He strode confidently towards the gangplank, followed closely by his gurrcat, Fury, and Visha, they all walked with purpose into the belly of the ship.

* * *

“I'm coming” Snipes said with a smile before cutting the channel.

It would only be a matter of a few hours before the remnants of Osk had been gathered and the next call came, the call for a way-point. Snipes had one. They would assault his world, they would take back everything they had lost and more, decimating and destroying those who had taken in.

Snipes looked out his porthole at the array of Imperial Center ships he had called on for aid, two star destroyers and variety of support craft. He would take the world in a storm, and celebrate his victory on a tower made of the bones of his enemies. Life was good.

Tanus stood motionless, speechless. He felt as if he would finally be whole again. The fire, the screams… all of that would be put to rest soon. When they stormed the desolate wastelands of Eyesore, they would all fall, like wheat before the scythe. No one said anything for a long time. Soon, though, all eyes were on him. The Light Hammer needed to give orders; he needed to show what it meant to be a captain – a captain ready to reclaim his home in a storm of violence, blood and alcohol. Tanus shoot up from the small communications display. The others jumped back in surprise. A hush fell over the crowd as he turned to face them. A slow smile crossed over his face; it soon became infectious.

“Everyone pack up! We’re going home!”

A roar came up from the crowd, so much so that the heavens themselves seemed to tremble from the chorus of the damned. There was a frantic dash as all at once crew and staff jumped to the task of getting the hell off of the newest planet to call home, only to return to another rocky world, perhaps even less hospitable. Aye, but that’s where all the fun is, isn’t it? Tanus cracked his neck as he lifted two large boxes and handed them off to a pair of deckhands behind him. Garryll approached him, a large canister of fluid over one shoulder and an ammo bag in the other. Tanus just chuckled.

“Ready to head home then?”

Garryll adjusted his weight, slipping the ammo bag further over his shoulder. The look on his face was that of slight amusement and something more – justice was swimming around there as well. That’s the fire I like to see.

“Absolutely. I mean, it’s not like I don’t already leave the house strapped for a war; may as well go home the same way, right?”

Tanus laughed as Lana came running down the entrance ramp. Her hair looked quite frazzled, almost as if she had just woken up; her current appearance to nothing to point to the contrary. He rubbed her eyes slowly and looked at Tanus, nearly looking as if she was going to fall asleep right then and there.

“Why’s everyone yellin’ and hollerin’ now? Did you kill something else?”

Tanus smiled as he stepped a little closer to Lana, who was completely unphased her sleep-induced stupor. He slipped an arm over her shoulder and stared down at her, smiling all the way. Lana only looked up at him, still barely conscious and more than a little irritated.

“Well, Lana dearest, Snipes just called – and he said it’s time to go home.”

All at once, Lana shot straight up, all notions and appearances of her less than reactive state disappearing instantly. Before she could say anything, Tanus pressed a piece of flimsy into her hand with a smile.

“Lock these coordinates in; tell the bridge crew if they haven’t figured it out already. We leave in one hour. Now get to work.”

“Yes sir!”

Lana turned and sprinted back to the ship, disappearing as she came to the top of the entrance ramp. Garryll watched her run off then turned back to Tanus, a smirk on his face.

“Well, while you’re out womanizing and telling everyone what to do, I’m actually going to do stuff. The rest of the armor needs to get back in the Victory somehow.”

“Good man. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some other… more important business to attend to.”

Garryll had a puzzled look on his face as Tanus turned around towards his ship, muscling his way through the gathering storm of crew members. Soon he was up the entrance ramp, and then he was out of sight.



When he came to the room, he was silent; no one had come to this particular part of the ship in quite some time. Not since she arrived. The crew had taken an early notice to how much she enjoyed being alone, considering that the last time anyone tried to talk to her she had put three people in the med lab. Tanus’ hand instinctively shot down to his lightfoil; a soldier’s life was vigilance. He lowered his head and let out a long breath, closing his eyes as he did so, feeling the air leave him. He felt hollow as he pushed the button on the wall. The door slid open, revealing a room with no lights on, and no trace of color – or life. An empty whiskey bottle flew past Tanus’ head as he entered the room. The door slid shut behind him as he entered silently, not flinching another bottle was thrown and broke on the opposite wall. The sound of sheets being moved and then a thud, followed by a groan. Tanus only sighed as he stared off into complete darkness.

“Are you quite done? Oh, and can we please turn on some lights? I can’t see a damn thing.”

The sound of more crashing and breaking echoed against the walls. Tanus cleared his throat as he heard a voice from the dark: it was low, quiet and full of malice.

“If you go near that light switch, I will break every bone in your body. Do you understand me?”

With that, a snap-hiss broke the tension in the room like a knife, replacing it with a shimmering bronze light. Tanus took a step forward and for once could see a mass of darkly dressed person. The form was barely moving, instead seeming quite content to stay on the floor. Or too drunk to move.

“Well, I used my light switch. I hope you don’t mind.”

Several swears could be heard as the shape began to move and reach for the bed. It was having difficulty getting up. Tanus reached an arm down and pulled up by the back of the neck, almost tossing the person across the room as the person landed in a heap on her bed like a rag doll. For once, Tanus got a good look at her through the light of his weapon: She was startlingly beautiful, with large green eyes that in the right light sparkled like a thousand stars. Her long brown, almost black, hair fell to the middle of her back. As she turned up to look at Tanus, he noticed just how tired and drawn out she looked. It hasn’t been the same for her… Not since… He sat at the edge of her bed, ignoring her muffled swearing.

“Kami, it’s about time you left the room. Big things are happening right now.”

“Oh, did we win the lottery?”

Tanus’ face turned to stone; a mask of internal rage burning just beneath the surface. He turned to Kami, his comrade and friend, and as he opened his mouth to speak, only ice left his lips.

“Feel free to be frank with me, but if I so much as hear an utterance like that again in my presence, I will toss you out of air lock so fast you won’t even have a chance to blink. Do you understand me?”

Kami became quite reserved and quiet as Tanus turned back to face the bronze light of his lightfoil. When all been quiet for some time, Tanus turned back.

“We’re going home. I thought you’d like to know.”

Tanus waited for a response, even though he’d never hear one. He sighed as he got up and went for the door, extinguishing his lighfoil as he hit the button. As he stepped through the door, Kami called after him.

“I’ll be sure to make an appearance, don’t worry.”

Tanus only smiled as he turned to look at Kami. She was smiling – or trying to – for the first time in a long time.

“Never was.”



Tanus came to bridge amid the hustle and bustle of the crew getting ready to move out. From what he had seen, the crew had already moved most of what was left outside onto the ship; now all that was left was preparation. As he took his seat on his throne, Lana turned to look at him, a puzzled look on her face.

“Sir, I checked into these coordinates… and they don’t make sense.”

“Aye. And?”

“I just… don’t get why. Why would he choose THERE?”

“Simple, Lana. One: This is Snipes. Two: The fact that it doesn’t make sense is perfect to launch an attack. Thos buggers in steel won’t see it coming.”

Lana sighed as she turned back around to her console, plugging in numbers and throwing switches every few seconds. Tanus smiled as he watched his crew run around, preparing for the trip – and fight – of their lives. Twenty minutes passed by, and soon everything was tied down and locked in. Lana sat at the controls of the ship, turning around to look at her captain once more.

“All cargo and crew is accounted for captain. Whatever support ships we have are ready to move out.”

“Excellent. Alert all ships that we leave in five minutes. Have the bombers keep our tail ends clean; I don’t know if we’ve incurred enough wrath to warrant a small space battle.”

The crew laughed as Tanus sat in his throne, spinning his hammer hilt first, the spike that lay atop it drilling a small hole into the floor. As Tanus opened up a bottle of smoke whiskey he had next to his throne, he felt the rumble of the engines shake the ship in a glorious cacophony of metal, energy and raw intensity.

“Lana,” Tanus said as he upended the bottle of whiskey into his mouth. “Take us home.”

Kami Sharpe, long time soldier, part time pirate and as of recently, full time alcoholic, sat quietly on the stained sheets of her cot long after Tanus had left her. Her bright green gaze was fixed on the empty bottle she had clasped in her right hand and the miniscule remnants of amber liquid that swirled about its glass base. It was barely enough for a mouthful yet her entire body yearned...nay, screamed for that mouthful with an intensity that both scared and exhilarated her. The loss of control that had seen her drown herself in the liquid poison over the last few months was terrifying in that it had heralded the destruction of the new life she had started to build for herself. Priorities and friends had once again been reduced to niggling concepts in the back of her mind, their needs and struggles washed away in the self indulgent haze of whiskey. Yet at the same time she felt a degree of joy, even satisfaction that such a small thing...just a taste of that malicious golden fluid could successfully anesthetize the whirlwind of emotion pulsing through her body. It couldn’t touch her when she was drunk, no matter how hard it tried. And every time it had come close to pulling her back down into the black clutches of despair she had simply opened another bottle and swallowed until her eyes grew heavy and darkness overtook her.

But Tanus had changed all that. He’d ruined her safe haven, her illusory paradise of denial by mentioning ‘home’ and everything that entailed. Snipes. Merrick. Aeos. Deznim and Rex. Friends who somehow retained a degree of affection for her despite all her misgivings and failures. She didn’t know how any of them fared or indeed if any of them still lived. She only knew what she remembered before she took to the bottle with renewed vigor and even those memories were tainted with the haziness brought on by an extended stint of drinking. A morning at the Locker when she’d gone into the haphazard offices in the food quarter full of promise and potential, practically bursting with ideas and a determination to succeed. The note from Deznim cast carelessly on her battered desk noting a missed holocall and its details with the brisk formality and hand of a clerk. A note informing her that an ‘Angel’ was en route to Osk 91 to see her, and that she was to stay put until he could talk to her.

So she had run. She’d simply turned on her heel and bolted from the room, shoving her way roughly through the pressing rabble of humanity towards the hangar. No-one had questioned her as she’d flown her TIE Avenger free of the clutches of gravity and out into the void of space. And no-one had noticed she was even gone until later that afternoon. But they couldn’t find her by then. She had vanished to the nearest backward planet she’d been able to find. As soon as her feet had touched soil they had automatically carried her towards the local cantina. Kami remembered that the barkeep hadn’t even bothered to ask for an order, her despair evident enough that he simply placed an entire bottle of liquor on the table before her. With the first swig everything...everything... had lifted away.

That was the last recollection she dared to trust. The TIE was gone now, lost in a drunken stupor on a planet she did not recall. And in an ironic twist of fate she had somehow found herself back amongst the very people she had been running from bare weeks later. Tanus had dragged her kicking and screaming to his ship and cast her into the very room she now occupied. He had informed her that Osk 91 had fallen and that thousands of their kin had been slaughtered by an extremist religious sect. And instead of accepting and dealing with the news Kami had continued drinking, allowing guilt at her abandonment of her friends to fuel her attempt to kill herself.

But they were going home. Back to Eyesore. And that phrase in itself spoke of the promise that not only had her friends survived, but that there was a chance for redemption. And revenge. Kami groaned softly and clutched at her forehead with her one free hand. She had a choice to make. Take the last mouthful of liquid and slip back into obscurity...or once again partake in bitter struggle that was life.  She cried out again with the strength of her internal struggle, her jade eyes refocusing on the bottle. It sat gleaming within her grasp, seemingly reassured of its hold over her.

“Put it down,” The voice that emitted from her throat was little more than a rasp, robbed of its strength from disuse, “Put it down Kami.”

The verbal reinforcement served to give strength to her resolve. She straightened from her slump and relaxed the muscles of her fingers to allow the bottle to slip free of her hold. It slammed onto the floor with a resounding clunk that reverberated throughout the room and in her mind. Slowly...as though awakening from a dream , Kami shakily rose to her feet until she was standing next to the cot. Forcing herself to keep her eyes averted from the disowned bottle she stumbled forward on protesting legs until she slammed into the far wall of the room. She groaned as the world momentarily spun about her, fumbling with clumsy fingers to find the light switch Tanus had threatened to turn on minutes before. The world flared into existence above and around her as she found the small switch, eliciting another exclamation from her lips as the glowing white tubes lining the ceiling set off small blossoming explosions of pain beneath her temples. After a few moments in which she used to gather herself Kami staggered over to the small refresher and lurched onto the small basin below the mirror there for support. She caught her breath, scared of what she would see and then slowly raised her eyes.

A stranger looked back at her from the mirror, her green eyes bloodshot and unfocused, as though not really comprehending what they perceived. Once glimmering black hair hung limply about her face in untamed strands, knots visible where they had been allowed to escalate. Her cheekbones jutted out sharply from deathly pale skin in an almost obscene display of her gauntness. 

Horrified at the physical results of her bid for death, Kami finally lowered her head and wept. For what she had become. For the self respect and dignity that she had lost. For the obstacles she now had to face and overcome to regain a semblance of her self. She cried for Angel, for the dark and bitter world of the Vast Empire she had originally run from, and for those who had met their end on Eyesore at the hands of murderous lunatics who killed in the name of justice. Finally the tears ceased. The next breath she pulled in was deeper and more purposeful. A sense of calm had abruptly seized her body and mind and Kami basked in it, feeling the sentiment sweep through her veins. There was hope. And that thought alone gave her the strength to climb into the refresher and turn it on.

She was back.

“And who might you be lassy?”
Yellow teeth leered at her through a waft of sweet-candy breath as drunken eyes undressed her thin frame.

“None of your business.”  She gritted.

Her captor stretched a slightly tootless smile in what he ought to be a handsome smirk and shook his head at.

“Sugar, we’re not that fond of Imperials. We aint fond of anything wearing uniform, I’m sure you can amend this though darling.”
A skinny and bony finger played with the top button of her stiff uniform. Were it not for the blaster held at her stomach she would have potted the imbecile a long time ago.

Aeos took a deep breath and tried to calm herself back into rational thought.

How the fuck had she ended up in Pirate territory? This is what happens when she chose desk-riding over field-work. She’d end up disconnected from the world which landed her in her current situation. Her pitiful excuse for a shuttle had failed on her half-way across a hyper-jump effectively stranding her in this so-called pirate territory. And then this fool came along and humped at her shuttle with his own piece of shit.  And now she was being held at gun-point in her own cock-pit. If the folks back at the office heard of this.

“Listen pal.” She placed on gloved finger lightly against his barren, bony and unwashed torso through the rags he used as clothing garments.

“I can load you with gold. Just let me go. “

The old man smirked at her crookedly and shook his head. His big nose jingled with the three little bells that hung from the left nostril.

“Mah boss, now he migh’ not like that.”

“And who be your boss? I could load his pitiful existence as well.” Aeos responded.

“His Kingship Snipes? Needing to be loaded. That’s a load of bullshit. “

Aeos’ eyes widened in shock.
“Sniping101?”

“That be it gal, now about-“

“Kill me pal, and Snipes will have your head on a silver platter.”
Inwardly she smirked. So typical that man to become a Pirate. She should have known.

Her tail bristled as his hand traveled down lower.

“I can promise, me and Snipes we hold a history. Remove your hands and take me to him. I can promise you your execution if something happens to me.”

She studied his face intensely while trying to will her tail to remain in its buckled state, a silly habit she had picked up since the accident at the labs in the last field-operation she was sent on. That was months ago, and ever since then she had a tail that would only regrow if removed and she was slowly losing pigmentation in her hair result in some streaks of white hair through her dark blonde hair. She had given up on the Army trying to fit her on their budget and as good as she was with her financials she still couldn’t afford the payments needed for genetic reversal of her condition. 

Her intensive blue eyes glinted and she smirked as the pirate pulled his blaster away. Hesitantly so. In a flash she had him pinned and straddled pushing the barrel of his own barrel against his groin. In his world Aeos had learned that the only way to threaten a man was to threaten his manhood as his regard for his life ran a lower priority.

“Are we going to cause trouble you piece of shit?

“Fuckit bitch.” He spat.

“yeah, you take me to Snipes and I’ll chip in your bonus. That sound good?”

Despite his obvious state of inferiority the pirate could help but spark at the words of gold. His oily hair matted against the yellow sweaty skin of his forhead and Aeos forced herself off of him. She would need to shower after this.

Fifteen minutes later, they were both buckled and seated in his piece of junk hitting hyper-space coordinates and settling for the last three hour stretch to his Kingship’s fort.
She repressed a shudder at the slang the pirate slung at her as he attempt various forms of small-chatting. Having spent the last ten years as an up and coming individual, eventually reaching Lieutenant had groomed Aeos into the perfect Imperial who often made the mistake of keeping her nose a tad bit too high.

Years ago, given the same situation as right now, Aeos would have fisted her way out of it, but her gradual change to a strategist and desk-sucker had changed her drastically. She was no longer the care-free child who couldn’t give a shit for the Empire. They had successfully morphed her into an Imperial who perfumed the job when required in whatever manner requested. She was the traditional stereotype detested by many including her own peers. She had lost her flexibility in character and her own sense of individualism. 

***
“No way!”  Aeos? My little protégé of mischief?” deep laughter howled from a hideous chair which Aeos assumed to be the throne.
Through all the ominous shadows caused by plain shit lighting she couldn’t be sure.

“Yes Snipes. Its me Aeos.” She sighed tiredly.

Another howl of mad laughter followed while the King’s subjects mimicked in nervous echo though they were quite at lost for the cause of his mirth.

Aeos frowned while her ‘captor’ only blinked stupidly and his little bells would clinkle musically ever now and again.

“Could you give your pup his bonus I promised him for sparing my oh so valuable life and get me out of here?”

A sudden hush fell across the shadowed room while intense eyes of mad eccentricity studied her.
“Mates, I need some quality moment with my guest”.  There was a shuffle and within seconds only Aeos and Snipes was left alone in his throne room.  Her captor had left as soon as his hand caught a small bag of credits thrown his way. Aeos stared at Snipes and took a deep breath.
“Snipes.“
“Aeos.”

She closed the distance between them till she was only a meter away from him. She could make his face out better now. The mad glint of humor had intensified since the last time she had seen him. His Army life had probably caged that glint away. He wore a ridiculous crown which sat cheekily on his hair at an angle while and equally cheeky grin spread across his thin face. He was up to something. 
“You don’t want to let me go. Why?”

“You read me that easily. Damn, and here I thought we could play a game of bullshitting.”

Aeos’ eyes narrowed. Long ago she might have responded with a witty insult of mirth but right now he was wasting valuable time in which she could be doing inspections or finishing her stack of paperwork back at the office.

“I’ll cut to the point. You’re not stupid and though love to play blind when it suits you I’ll tell you this. I need you here right now. Your timing might be perfect kid. I need your experience.”
“Army will file me as AWOL or MIA. You can be arrested for this back at-“

“I’m done with that life Aeos. I thought you would quit as well. Anycase, I know you have your hand pretty much in every pie so you most likely are aware that the Empire likes to have a backdoor.”
“Which would be you I smartly assume.”

“Your intelligence never stops amusing me. In short, I can and will have you scheduled as on leave. Not to be disturbed. All that fancy jazz about being physiologically unfit for the field and the office.”

“You’re pissing me off Snipes. Why would you do this to me?”



***

She tugged at her new clothes uncomfortably while her tail now free of its buckler lashed violently behind her.  His Kingship disliked the Imperial swirl of boredom in which she was and wanted to avoid his crew being affected by said swirl. 

She had opted for an old rebel leather vest and tunic pants that hitched up till her above her naval kept up with a wide belt and pirate-issued boots special item from Snipes’ special chest. The one thing she liked. Her boots. She was currently waiting for ex-friend and new boss on the bridge. He would pay for this. Damn bastard.

“Settling in Lieutenant?

Aeos eyed the owner of the voice suspiciously. The first individual who seemed to be slightly sane which made her existence illogical on this ship.
“And you are?”

“Visha. Captain around these parts.”

Aeos took a second glance at Visha .

She had white hair, dark skin and intense eyes creating a beautiful yet untouchable air of authority.
Aeos scoffed.

“You don’t seem like his type.”

“I’m not. It’s a matter of one hand washing the other. “ she replied curtly.

“You don’t seem like his type of friend either Aeos. So how does your history run?”

“People change. He left and I moved on. That’s how our galaxy works.”
“So you don’t hold much regard for past-relations.”

“He’s obvious sense of humor at my imprisonment is obviously so we can spend our time catching up.” Aeos muttered drawing an bemused chuckle from Visha. The Captain walked over to the railing and leaned her arms on it.

“Knowing the boss. It might prolly just be that.”

Snipes sighed and stood. Every bone and joint in his body creaking and grinding against him, his head hung and he placed a hand on his face, brushing the hair out of it, “Because, Aeos,” He said, opening his eyes intensely at her, “I need friends.” His mask cracked slightly, as the burden of his position fell momentary on his shoulders, “I need people I can trust by my side for this adventure. I would say this last, but, “The fire returned to his eyes and energy gripped his body, “but this only the beginning my friend.”

“What?” Aeos said, stunned by the sudden crushing intensity.

Snipes smiled, and gripped the bottle at his side tighter, “I will rend the flesh of those who have taken my world, I will burn their bodies to ash and stand triumphant upon the alter of their corpses as they litter my home with refuse. I am King, and I will have a kings vengeance.” His predatory grin spread, “Haven't you ever wanted to watch the galaxy burn? To see the whole thing ignite into a magnificent flame to burn away all the refuse, the lies, the deceit and the horror of it all.” His eyes were wide, for a moment more, before the returned to their norm and he once again took his seat, “That is all I promise. A galaxy aflame.”

* * *

Snipes sat, excited, upon his throne built upon death. Around him the other members of his party appeared from hyperspace, the Imperial Center mercenaries and the two star destroyers with support ships. He smiled around the cigarette burning from his mouth. In front of him were the remnants of Osk, he recognized Tanus' Iron Victory immediately. It made him smile, to once again be surrounded by not just comrades, but friends. People he could count on.

That was why he was here, outside the belt of asteroids and gravitational fluctuations that kept the system housing Eyesore locked away from the majority of the galaxy. He would go forth, he would meet his captains, assemble the council once again. There would be blood.

He stood, stretching his immense frame, he had done far too much sitting in recent days, now it was time for action, he threw a two fingered wave, the deuces, to Visha, who only nodded, as he stepped out the door and made his way to the cafeteria, he had long ago had the conference room removed and merged with the storage area, there was no point to such a thing on his vessel.

The cafeteria he entered normally held three long tables running lengthwise of the ship, however they could easily be folded into the floor to make more room, two of them had been thus stored, leaving only the third middle table erect. Snipes took a seat at the head of the table, lighting a cigarette and placing his feet upon it, leaning back in the chair. Soon they would all come.

They began to arrive within minutes, first those on the ship, although not all captains. Aeos refrained from appearing, probably a good thing, but Bastard took a position on Snipes left, leaving the Pirate King the shadow of his enormous hat. Snipes blew upward to get the feather out of his face.

Snipes pulled the Thunder God, his shotgun, from it's holster and set it on the table, as the other captains arrived they too set a weapon the table, be it blaster, sword, hammer or pistol. The room filled slowly, the chairs taken by the prominent captains, such as Tanus Solovana, Visha, Jegora and many others. The table was full of weapons by the time the hall had filled, and underlings and captains alike stood to the side, all eager to hear what their king had to say.

When at long last they had all gathered Snipes inhaled deeply though his almost gone cigarette, letting it fall from his mouth to the ground, Bastard stamped it out, “Gentleman, we are gathered here because something precious to us was taken, was stolen at sword point from us, those who steal with a smile and gunshot,” Snipes began, producing another cigarette from his long coat, Kelevra held forth a lighter and ignited it, “I do not presume to know the details of what happened to our city, I do not presume to care. All that is gone with winds, left to vacuum.

“What matters now is only that we no longer have our home, it was taken in a night of fire and blood and we must reclaim it. We must take it back and build anew the city on the bones of those who thought to take my place as it's king.”

“Why not find somewhere else, somewhere that won't be taken, it's a big galaxy, full of opportunity.” One of the captains said, his opinion enforced by a round of agreement from much of the crowd.

“That being as it may, we are not a weak group, not incompetent, we cannot allow this insult to haunt us, you of all should know that, Caden. Or are you still a coward,” With the words of Snipes captain the room hushed, an uneasy silence.

“None of this is the point,” Snipes continued after a moment, “The point is that Eyesore is home for many of us, we know and understand Eyesore, I will never ask you to come if you don't want to.

“No, I am here to relay a plan of attack to those that do wish to be here.” Snipes maintained a bored expression, dealing with people was not his forte. “I do not offer any reward, no paycheck, if you do not wish to be part of this leave knowing only that you can never again call yourself an Osker, you will be stricken from our world.” Snipes face grew serious, intense, “I offer only blood and death, I offer a chance to burn the galaxy, to take all that we can and give nothing back, to render those that thought they could be our masters into dust blown in the wind,” Snipes stood abruptly, “Our task is that of the stars, that all men can and will be free, that no religious zealots or conquering empires can diminish our right to do as we please, to live the lives we want, we will show them horror, boys, we will show them madness; we will land on the planet they fought so hard to take, just the toughest of men, Two from each ship, Tanus,” Snipes said, turning, “You and your two best,” The Warhammer smiled, “Each of you will take two of your best and we will land, we will destroy their minds as our fleet destroys their ships, we will harass those supporters they have won and they will hate us for it. Let no joyful voice be heard on that inhospitable rock until once again I sit upon my throne and we each dwell once again in our homes. Let the voices of madness ring, unleash the dogs of war.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, as for the first time their king displayed a passion usually only reserved for the midst of battle. Then one voice, followed by many unleashed a howl that even hell could not match, a deafening roar of hope.

* * *

Snipes stood upon the observation deck of one of the star destroyers, looking out over his rag-tag fleet of miscreants. It was a beautiful combination of madness and order, chaos and law. The fleet was reorganizing itself, taking orders from the tower so to speak. They were all anticipating the time of blaster and blood, of their vengeance, the energy could be felt, even among the captains. Snipes turned to look at them, hardened men all, and those that stayed for the space battle had sent their hardest and truest, not good men by any stretch, but steady and hard men and women for sure.

“This is where it starts, my friends, right here,” Snipes said, gesturing to the window, “We shall all climb aboard the corvette, the marauder, and we shall at the start of our fleets engagement, plummet to the planet,” outside, if one looked hard enough they could make out a marauder corvette, painted in black except the outline of a bird of prey in silver across it's hull, “we picked up many things in the unknown regions, many special treasures, some of which this galaxy has never seen, some it has not seen for a long time and some it will never see again. This corvette is special, it will take us home, past all sensors to the mountains outside of The Locker, from there we will infiltrate the shanties, and after the shanties The Locker proper.”

Snipes smiled around the cigarette, they were his, body mind and soul now. No longer was taking back home but a fevered dream, it was a plan, an insane plan, but a plan they could put faith in. Snipes glanced to Aeos disapproving face, to Bastards giant hat, hiding his eyes in shadow, to Merricks half smile. It was all there. Soon he knew Kami would come too, she had been a soldier once like him, and she was important to Osk, so she too would show. Tanus gripped an object at his side, and Snipes knew that his commitment was without doubt. In the end they would burn it all.

Snipes turned once again to the fleet and watched the pirate ship Abraxas as it neared them. Now was the time for action. A wry grin spread across his face as he thought of the coming carnage.

Man had he been bored. Badly.

Technically, the High Council needed an update that was long overdue for the next quarter's mission plans. There was a new starfighter line starting up at the Etchik yards that he should probably smack a bottle of champagne at. He was way long overdue for some time off, some gambling, drinking, hunting or combination thereof.

To hell with that.

The Warden and Harbinger were hanging just within the asteroid field, trying not to get bashed in by large stones. The Acclamators were doing a pretty good job of merely tractoring nearby boulders away from them.

Fury had spent too much time on Rothana and Kuat model bridges. They made him itch after all this time. No, he was aboard one of the loaner Vibre Cruisers, this one called the Shadow Hunter.

Nominally the Imperial Center contingent was here to add some heavy weapons punch to the Osk crewers as they worked to retake their home. But hell, he'd have done this anyway and was glad to be of assistance.

He was also glad to not be in charge of this. Sure, it had been awhile since he took some orders in a battle, but since he was just part of a boarding crew, that wasn't even remotely going to be a problem.

That was more than his condition to be party to the mayhem. It was necessary. Lord Kadann had always been more than lenient with his side projects, but dabbling in piracy was probably a bit much for a member of the High Council.

All this was fine in the long view. He got to help out some allies, hopefully take a ship in good enough shape to claim as salvage, and maybe bust some heads.

He'd been riding a desk - multiple ones - for too long. It was time for another grand adventure.

For now though, it was time to check his armor, his weapons and to consider whether or not he actually wanted to carry a sledgehammer around. He'd said he'd do as much when in his cups after the planning session on the Abraxas but it just seemed like one more juvenile idea in the light of day.

The ship shook a bit as incoming fire bounced off of the shields. The battle had begun and the Shadow Hunter was tucking under the Acclamators for protection as the ICS vessels formed their part of the picket line. The captain was picking a nice target for them to raid and board. Most of the hired guns were ready for duty with the pirates but Fury was keeping a small contingent of Center Guards for the boarding run.

Once the battle lines were established they would move in for the kill and then lend whatever other assistance they could to the mission.

As soon as Abraxes stopped shaking Helo glanced out the nearest porthole hoping to catch a glimpse of the familiar landscape of Eyesore, but couldn’t due to the sickening cacophony of clouds they were in. Of course…have I been gone THAT long?. All around him the men and women of the Osk company prepared for battle. Some checked power packs and rations, others thumbed the edges of their assorted blades, All seemed to have kindred fire in their eyes.  Snipes calmly wandered amongst them all, cigarette lazily burning in the corner of his mouth, occasionally nodding to members of his crew until he noticed Helo leaning on the bulkhead, slowly twirling his hat‘s feather with a finger.  Helo spoke as soon as snipes reached him.

“How long?”

“Soon. Pilot wants to circle the landing site before we touch down.”

Helo turned away from the porthole to the face of his king, and as it were, a cloud of cigarette smoke.

“You look Nervous,” remarked Snipes as he produced a flask from nowhere. “Care to take the edge off?”

Helo gratefully accepted the flask, removed the cap and took a pull, then grimaced.

“Smooth?” asked Snipes as he took the flask back.

“Very,” Helo lied. “If it doesn’t burn when it goes down how do you know it’s bad for you?”
Snipes could only smile.

Abruptly the ship lurched to one side, then leveled out as the pilot brought them into their final approach and then finally to the ground.. Outside the window Helo could see columns of smoke far off in the distance, presumably from the Locker, but his attention was drawn away as Snipes, now standing atop a plasteel crate, raised Thunder God above his head.

“Gentlemen!” he called as everyone turned to face their Lord. “Today is a great day my friends!  For today we take back what is rightfully ours!” All around him his crew shouted in excitement, raising swords, blasters, and other more barbaric looking weapons in the air. Garryll, Ron, and Tanus moved up to Helo as Snipes continued his speech.

“Our time has come to meet these invaders and to raise the black flag.  No quarter to the violators of our homes and firesides! Our banners will be raised against those who would desecrate our land!”  Again he was met with cheering. Behind him the hangar doors opened with a hiss and the ramp dropped slowly to the ground, cool air swept through the room. Atop his crate the pirate king Sniping 101 placed his left hand over his heart in a gesture not usually given by him.

“My friends…hoist the colours!”

The hangar bay erupted as hundreds of voices rallied with their King, including Tanus, Garryll and Ron, who all raised weapons as well. Helo instead raised his enormous hat into the air and waived it around. He briefly entertained the thought of throwing it then thought better of it.

As they all cheered, the mass of pirates surged down the ramp and onto their own soil for the first time since the crusaders first appeared. Outside, crew from other parts of the ship were unloading supplies and the few vehicles they had brought with them.  Snipes stepped down off his crate as Helo and the others approached, the devilish grin on his face betraying his excitement.

“Lovely speech,” remarked Tanus. “Got me all teary-eyed.”

“Aye” agreed Helo. “What’s the next move?”

Snipes threw his spent cigarette to the ground and lit another. “ I want camp set up within the hour. Everyone needs to be rested when the shooting begins. Some pickets would be a good idea as well.”  When snipes turned, the group made their way down the ramp and out of the ship, where pirates ran every which way, throwing make-shift tents together and storing supplies. Eventually the group stopped at a massive tent, clearly meant for royalty. There he turned back to his men.

“Tanus, I‘m putting you in charge of acquiring prisoners. I don’t care how you do it…just make it happen.” With that being said he strode into the tent, the others quickly following suite, gathering around a makeshift desk that Snipes sat himself behind. As soon as they were all inside he spoke again. “Helo…I find it odd that you’re one of the few that done carry a blade of some kind. Why is this?”

Helo shrugged. True enough he didn’t even had anything to pass off as a dagger. “Never thought about it. Never seemed to need anything more than what sits at my hip,” he said as his patted the pistol at his side.

“True enough,” replied snipes. “Now that’s all well and good against those who usually shoot at you. However these ass-hats we are up against carry mostly melee weapons. So I suggest you upgrade your inventory.” From behind his desk he produced a sword in its scabbard and tossed it to him.  Helo caught it with one hand and inspected it, barely pulling it from it’s scabbard.  It was a katana, and it had clearly seen better days.  The blade was rusted and chipped, the dull brown of the scabbard was scratched to hell, and the hilt was covered with what was clearly many layers of duct-tape.

“Errr…thanks?”

“Oh sure it looks like hell…“ said Snipes as he placed his feet on his desk and leaned back. “But I think a little crusader blood will breath new life into the blade.”

Helo nodded and hooked the weapon onto his belt so that the hilt was all that was uncovered by his brown trench coat.  “I reckon you have something for me to do as well?”

“Aye…I want you to go with Tanus or whoever he happens to send. You’ll need practice with that blade.”

Helo nodded and turned to leave with Tanus in the others, leaving Snipes to his kingly things, But as they left he called out to them. “Remember a prisoner…NAY!  A pair of prisoners!”

Kami woke suddenly, unsure as to what had dragged her from the peaceful stupor of a deep sleep. With a soft groan she tilted her head from where she was lying on fresh sheets to regard the room about her. Apart from the gentle thrumming of the ship’s engines it was deathly quiet. Yet something was out of place. The very air reeked of chemicals...as though someone had recently opened the door to allow the corridors sanitized breeze to filter in. She instinctively stiffened on her cot, her hand reaching to grasp at the empty place at her thigh where her pistol usually rested. But her pistol had been cast carelessly in the pile of clothes near the doorway in one of her binges and could offer her no comfort. Narrowing her eyes in a futile attempt to better perceive the dark shapes looming out of the darkness around her, Kami swung her legs silently over the edge of the cot and dropped soundlessly to the floor.

As soon as her feet made contact with the floor she became aware of the long metallic box resting a few meters from her. She regarded the foreign object for a few moments, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest. It was familiar somehow, though in her bewildered state she couldn’t place the box in her memory. The whiskey was still flowing through her system...slowing her senses. Finally she gave into her curiosity and came out of her crouch to stride across the room. She flicked on the light switch and walked warily back towards the box. It was unimpressive in its plainness and unmarked save for a few scratches on the surface.  Yet the niggling feeling remained somewhere in the depths of her mind. She had seen this case before. Carried along by an abrupt rush of impulsiveness, Kami dropped down to her knees and flicked open the latches along the side.  She heaved back on the lid and felt her eyes widen as the interior of the case was revealed.

A pair of beautifully crafted curved blades rested amongst carefully arranged silk, their silver surfaces gleaming under the assault of the ceiling lights. They were twice as long as an average combat knife and outwardly twice as deadly, their edges sharpened to an extent that they had begun to fray the cloth bundled up against their sides. Kami lowered her now trembling hands and wrapped one around each of the soft handles to find that both were perfectly fitted to the shape of her fingers and palms. Apart from the silver ridge running about the base of both blades the pair were a perfect replica of the Kuati daggers she had received upon her graduation from the Kuat Academy. Both had accompanied her for years until her reunion with her twin sister. And now both lay beneath the crumbling soil alongside her sisters rotting corpse.

Kami resisted the urge to jerk her hands away from the daggers, instead pulling in a calming breath. This was no coincidence. She knew exactly where the blades had come from and who had delivered them. Their presence spoke of a myriad of changes in her life but she pushed these thoughts away for the time being. All that mattered was that she focused on vengeance and releasing the simmering fury boiling beneath the surface of her skin. Vengence for Osk, and for her friends. And now she had the perfect weapons with which to inflict it. She straightened with both the blades clutches tightly in grasp, the cloth falling aside to expose two fitted sheaths underneath. The hint of a smile lifted the edges of her lips as she swiftly reached down to attach both sheaths to the side of both her thighs before sliding the two daggers home in their leather confines.  The weight of the blades was more than comforting. It was invigorating.

Alight in a sudden rush of energy Kami strode back to the doorway, casting aside her loose shirt for a form fitting black tank top. She bent to pull on both of her knee high combat boots then raised both hands to pull her jet black hair back from her face before hesitating. The ponytail she had worn for years had been military inspired, the better to adequately present the polished and implacable frontage of a Vast Empire officer. She had no need for such reservations now. With a laugh, Kami cast her long hair back over her shoulders, allowing it to tumble unrestrained down her back. Then without a single glance back into the room that had been her prison for months, she swept down the hallway and out of sight.

*        *        *        *        *        *

Bare minutes later Kami strode purposefully into one of the many hangars of the Iron Victory, her boot heels thudding loudly against the steel floor. It was unoccupied save for a pair of mechanics near a battered looking assault gunboat to the side of the rest of the starfighter fleet assembled before the magnetic field. She paused for a moment, her hand subconsciously drumming the handle of the blade strapped to her right thigh, before spinning about and walking over to them. The two mechanics glanced up as she neared them, their expressions shifting from trepidation to open curiosity as their gazes shifted from her black clad form to her face.

“Er...can we help you?” One of the mechanics lowered the clipboard the two had been examining and took a small step forward, “Are you lost?”

“No, not at all,” Kami flashed the man a wide smile and was rewarded by a smitten grin in return by the mechanic who had not addressed her. The speaker frowned at his companion in reprimand before placing both his hands on his hips and talking again,

“If you’re not lost I’ll have to ask you to leave. Only authorized personnel are allowed in this hangar.”

“Of course,” Kami’s smile remained fixed in place as she swung her heavy blaster up before her and leveled the barrel between the mechanic’s eyes, “But if you don’t mind I’d like to stay.”

Both men gaped in surprise, before the mechanic with the clipboard raised both hands in a display of subjugation, “Oh...” He paused, and swallowed, sweat beading across the top of his forehead, “Of course. Not a problem.”

“Has the Captain left yet?” Kami’s tone was light, as though a chat at gunpoint was an inconsequential occurrence.

“A few hours ago,” The other mechanic spoke up, the hint of a smile still on his face. His companion turned to glower at him once again. Here he was giving away information freely to an armed and outwardly dangerous woman simply because she happened to be attractive! He opened his mouth to verbally admonish his lack of loyalty but the woman interrupted him before he could speak.

“Good to hear,” She tilted her head at the gunboat, though her glowing green eyes stayed fixed on the two men before her, “Can that thing fly?”

“Better than before we had a look at it,” The traitorous mechanic replied. He almost seemed amused by his friends’ increasingly rigid body posture, “Shields might be a bit glitchy.”

Kami met his eyes and widened her smile, “I better not get hit then.”

The mechanic let out a soft chuckle, causing his offended comrades mouth to drop open in disbelief, “Good luck. Believe the Captains had enough trouble getting down to Eyesore without getting their brains blown out and they were in a ship much more stolid than this.”

Kami regarded the man for a moment with an abruptly discerning gaze, “Perhaps you should come with me?”

The mechanic laughed again, hitting his companion roughly across the back as he did so, “I need to keep Raymond here company. He’s a little...frigid if he spends too much time alone.”

Raymond’s mouth dropped lower as the woman declined her head in farewell before whisking almost gracefully up the ladder fixed to the side of the gunboat and dropping down into the cockpit of the fighter. He spun to his friend now that he was free of the blaster pistol’s guard, his face purpling in his anger, “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“She’s a friend of the Captain’s moron,” The cheerful mechanic replied, raising his hand from his friends shoulder and smacking him none too lightly across the back of his head, “The hottie raging alcoholic who lived on the third floor. Don’t you pay attention to anything other than repulsorlifts and hyperdrives?”

Without waiting for a response from the now completely flustered Raymond, the mechanic snatched the clipboard from his hand and walked back towards the hangar door, whistling as he went. Behind him, the assault gunboat’s engines roared to life as the starfighter and its strange occupant lifted off from the hangar floor and turned towards the mottled gray surface of Osk 91.

Snipes stared down the barrel of the gun. He blew smoke right down it. He wished that this was a new thing to him.

Infront of him was a terrified man, close cropped hair, cut in a military high and tight style. Perhaps he’d been a soldier once, but long ago. The archaic double barreled shotgun was shaking in his hands as it tried to stare down the arrogant pirate king.

Snipes exhaled out the nose, hearing the men behind him shift, their weapons and equipment clink. It was exhilarating, to once again be staring down a barrel, he knew it would never fire, but he would pretend, it would help to bring back his blood, bring back his rage. Make him into the vengeful demon he was.

He smiled, and with the quickness of an animal his hand snapped up and ripped the weapon from the mans hands. His predatory grin spread as the cigarette fell from his mouth, the wench by his side was quick to replace it with a fresh one and ignite it.

“You once housed our brethren, fed and supplied them, lived like a true free man, undaunted spirit and enviable zest for life” Snipes said as he turned the gun on it’s owner, “But you betrayed us, you betrayed the only family, violent and unruly as it is, that will ever understand you.” Snipes cocked the hammers.

His wicked smile spread, the man had his two sons armed with older weapons with him, his wife cowered in a corner, bruises still on her face from a previous beating. Snipes pulled the trigger, quickly shifting his sight picture to the eldest son and firing the second barrel. The men behind him turned the rest of the house into a lightshow, it was glorious.

The shanty was small, flares were thrown into it and fuel filled the shack. The entire block would burn until the oxygen ran out. Snipes just turned, with a swish of ponytail and great coat and stepped away, dropping the old weapon in his wake and leaving another cigarette butt, the only evidence of his passing. He would not allow a traitor, better to die for what you believed than to succumb to the ravings of a mad religion.

Snipes strode away, smoke billowing from his nose like a beast, from one of Kelevra's cheap cigarras. His smile fixed, it was the beginning, and as he climbed into the transport he could only dream of the next one he was to visit. Soon word would spread, the king had returned, he was there for blood, and you sinners had best repent and pray to your futile gods, for he was showing no mercy.

As Snipes swirled his coat around him as he sat down on the transport, his people filled in a few moments behind them. He crossed his legs and looked at them. His smile dropped somewhat, as smoke continued to billow around him, as he looked into their eyes. Wavering, unsure of what they had just done.

"My friends, my brethren, my people." Snipes said, grasping the cigarra between two fingers, "These that we must now purge have betrayed us and themselves, they went against who and what we are. They betrayed themselves, and can now only know the embrace of death. Some of us knew them once, when they were men. I do not want cowering weaklings with me, these people gave up their freedom for a cage of belief, we are not people who take to cages well, we should always gnaw at the bars and die before we surrender what we are. We are not good people, and we never should be. Die or be the dead my friends. That's us. As I said before, let no joyful voice be heard."

They nodded as he spoke, they understood, but it was hard to kill old friends and acquaintances, it hurt, but it was what must be done. Snipes was too withdrawn, existing in his own little world to ever fully understand. He only knew that they needed time to understand what this quest really meant. It was a hard task meant to tear at their hearts, it would separate the truely free from the those shackled by mortality.

They rode the rest of the trip in silence, no uncomfortable, just thoughtful and painful. They arrived again at the ramshackle base the returning OSK members called home for now.
.
It wasn't much, the light absorbing bulk of Abraxas consumed the area, speckled by quickly set up tents and prefabs. Snipes didn't really like it.  It was a sad imitation of the grandeur of his people. So sad to be stuck in the filth. Snipes could have lived with it if he weren't the King. He had been a soldier once; or maybe twice. The barren live he was living was barely a life. IT was the semblance of a soldiers life. Snipes had hated that life, too much control. To the hastily set up base reminded him of all of that and he could do not but swell in silent rage. He wanted to burn it too. Squalid was the best description of it, although he knew that in his time in the military had seen much worse, this base had a capital ship and it's facilities for support. Showers, warm food, no army rations. It was still far below the Kings standards.

Snipes showed his back to the rest, walking from the transport to the Abraxas, he looked slightly over his shoulder and smiled as his soldiers rushed to the barely standing chow hall tent, he smiled and stepped into his ship, the impeccable Pirate King.

* * *

The archaic bomber landed with a lack of grace that even Snipes had to wince at, one of it's landing struts buckling and breaking under the strain.

The Pirate King could not help but smile, to see these people again, once soldiers like himself, but no more, now free of the burdens that had once haunted them. It had, to Snipes, felt like a new life, and that was a feeling that he always felt good about. He loved it, he hoped that she too would find it as freeing as he did.

He expected the person, but not the style, that stepped from the bomber. He nearly didn't recognize her. She had been sheik and stylish when last he'd laid eyes on her, now she stood tall, every part a rebel, a real person, with a real mind. The uptight imperial he had once known was gone, in her place stood the nearly feral looking, wild haired and eyed Kami Sharpe. Weapons on her hips, something that meant something to her but no one else, they screamed danger as she walked down that boarding ramp.

Snipes smiled, she was everything he had ever hoped she would be. Truly the image of rebel.

"Kami, there are few people I stand on ceremony for."

"Snipes. I'm back."

"It is good, help me burn this world and then, and then we rebuild it."

A crooked smile took her face, "Still have room for me?"

She should of known there was, and perhaps she did, merely paying lipservice to the time spent incoherent, Snipes knew it, "I still need someone to stand at my side. Stand again as you did. Stand hard and fast and fight like you believe it."

Kami looked him in the eyes, square and unhindered, "That is enough."

These guys could build one hell of a ship, but literally had no practice in hand-to-hand combat.  Scratch that. Individually they were hellions, some of the enemy he had to subdue with violent and increasingly messy force.

He was glad he brought the sledgehammer. For psychological reasons, he couldn't have done better except to possibly bathe in the blood of those slain.

Having the benefits of boarding after the Insidious, they weren't met with as much force as the other ship had reported.

Not that it had mattered much. His job, thus far, had been to walk down a corridor until he met resistance. His troops would provide cover fire as he and a few others could get up close and start bashing in the defenders. Between a flechette pistol and the sledgehammer, he was turning the enemy opposition into chum.

Three other troopers with him made do with grenades, blaster rifles and one antique electrostaff that he wasn't aware his guys had been keeping handy.

Once again, they had turned a corner heading towards the engine room, only to run into heavy blaster fire. Diving back the way he came, two troopers moved up and tossed smoke grenades, followed by a couple incendiaries.

That had the benefit of scaring the hell out of the enemy and in pinning them down in case they had the thought of advancing towards his position.

"Boss, we've got a maintenance corridor here" said one of his men.  He pointed at a locked door, though not a particularly sturdy one.

Taking the opportunity to smash things, he cleared some room and bashed the hatch on it's hinges with his hammer, snapping one clear and folding the other one in.

He was going to pay for this later but it sure was fun now.

With his three cohorts, he cautiously went down the corridor. He could hear his remaining men laying down return fire into what surely was a wall of fire. The ship's fire suppression systems were working overtime to get rid of the flames - a critical concern on any ship.

The enemy must not have thought through their defenses. Then again, their reactions so far had been long on heroics and short on coordination or strategy.

Another soldier found the next hatch. "We're going to be behind them, but not by much. We'll have to move quick." Fury nodded and another soldier primed two stun grenades, throwing them out the door towards the enemy the moment it was popped open.

Fury burst out the hatch and turned into the enemy. There were eight of them. One down injured, with another three thrown to the floor, clearly shaken by the blast. He turned into the largest of them as he roared and started swinging his rifle towards the Center Guards coming at him.

Fury ignored the blaster - that's what armor was for - and took a big swing with the hammer. It made a satisfying KLANG! as it took the enemy soldier in neck and drove his heat up against a bulkhead.

Dropping the hammer he poured a burst of armor-piercing flechettes into the enemy's belly. A blood-curdling scream followed, which considering the blow to the head the man took was a testament to his strength. Poor bastich. Drawing out his Thunderer-6 sidearm, he went all Black Sun on another defender drawing a bead on him, opening up with both heavy blaster and flechette. The results of multiple head wounds broke the will of the two remaining soldiers. His men had taken care of the rest.

Arms went up as the body in front of his slumped to the deck, the riddled helmet was spinning a whole meter behind it. On again, the more brutal you were, the more the enemy wondered if they were next.

Holstering both pistols, he picked up the sledge and turned back to their new prisoners.

"How close to the engine room? Quickly now," he added, hefting the hammer.

The man visibly gulped. Poor guys weren't even fully covered in armor. He could see the man's fear.

"Come on. There's two of you. I'll smack some sense into you and then ask him," Fury added, pointing with the hammer. "We've got this ship dead to rights anyway. I've personally killed a couple dozen of you, there can't be that many more of you left."

That worked. "Down the corridor, to the right. There's only about ten more of us in one or two positions. Please, that's all I know."

Fury nodded and pointed to two of the men that had worked with him most through the ship. "Take these guys back to wherever we're holding them. I need two more volunteers to join me and Electrostaff here in taking the rest of these guys out."

The duo nodded and helped their prisoners along. Two more men stepped forward, grabbing extra grenades from their brethren, and they headed off.

Only now he noticed the klaxons going off. Either his fire had spread to another deck or things were burning somewhere else. He really wanted to capture this ship but this might get ugly.

Disappointingly, the next engagement was short. Two guys with sidearms. Fury wondered why until his helmet's filter system popped a warning. Heavy polymers in the air. That meant important things on fire. Calling back to the rest of the Guards, he and his team moved forward, clearing a pile of crates that were undefended and running straight into the engine room. Heavy fire was being traded between his forces and a stubborn pack of defenders. Why anyone would allow a gun fight in their own engine room was beyond him. This would be the time to surrender.

Something was up and Fury had a bad idea what it was.

Scanning around the room he found what looked like the hyperdrive. As his men engaged the defenders from a new front, he saw two technicians trying to connect a power lead to the drive assembly. He now saw why. Someone had shot the hell out of a key generator. Good thinking. Someone was getting a paid vacation on somewhere sunny with hot women on it's surface.

Banking on the "nothing ventured, nothing gained' school of warfare, he crept up on the technicians, told his guys to cover him and charged forward. The first swing of the sledgehammer took the unarmored technician in the chest. He could hear the ribs shatter over the cacophony of battle. He winced himself hearing it. The second technician turned into the electrostaff, the full charge shooting him into the hyperdrive unit, knocking the man to the floor, where he twitched and bled.

Fury's technician stupidly tried to rise. With a large overhead swing he put an end to that silliness.

While all this was going on, the addition of the Shadow Hunter's boarding party had turned the tide. Ship defenders were either sitting with their arms raised or in various states of injury or death.

He pointed at someone with the smug look of an officer. "Call your bridge or we start killing the environmentals. Trust me, I've done this before."  Apparently he was convincing. Within moments, an invitation to the bridge was some forthcoming along with an overhead message to stand down and prepare for surrender.

He popped off his helmet and lit up a cigarra. It wasn't his ship quite yet. "I need six men to escort me and this officer here to his bridge. The rest of you fan out and get everyone corralled. Shoot anyone that tries to hide. Get some techs down here and have this ship ready to bail out of the battle ASAP."

He exhaled. "When you get a chance, take a breather and eat something. We're heading down to the surface once we figure out where the Oskers might need us."

The pirates fell on the first collection of shacks on the outskirts of the Locker with murderous intent. Though they were only a small group their arrival had thus far gone undetected, giving them an element of surprise that caught the new occupants of the settlement completely unawares. This strategic advantage coupled with each of the Captain’s combat skill meant that the Paladin’s lackeys and allies had little to no chance of surviving. So they died. One after another. And they did not die well.

Kami felt blood splash across the side of her face even as she pulled one of her long blades swiftly across the chest of the first man that rushed to meet her. A duo of Captains at her side were hacking at their first victim with reckless abandon, turning their unarmed Paladin victim into a pile of mashed flesh within the space of a few seconds. She pulled her teeth back in a grimace at the feeling of the sticky warm liquid before spinning lithely to hack at the next Paladin coming to his wounded friends’ aid. Her second blade caught the Paladin across his throat, sending another fountain of blood cascading out to strike the side of her neck.

“Ware the scouts!”   

Snipes voice was almost indistinguishable above the roaring of the pirate Captains as they relished in releasing the first wave of their hatred upon their helpless foes. Yet Kami retained a degree of calm despite the fierce pounding of her heart and span to where Snipes had thrown out his arm in direction before being swallowed up in the rush of battle. Two Paladin soldiers, both sparsely armored, were sprinting to where a pair of speeder bikes sat gleaming against the corrugated iron side of a shack. Casting one of her blades point down into the dusty earth Kami snapped her heavy blaster free of its restraint with her right hand and sighted down the length of the barrel towards the closest Paladin’s back. Her shot took him in the back of the neck, the strength of the blast whipping his head sideways and almost clean of his body. The other Paladin managed to make it to his bike before Kami’s second shot slammed mercilessly into his side. He screamed in pain and toppled forwards, striking his forehead against the unrelenting metal of the handlebars before flopping like a rag doll to the ground.

“Don’t let the bastards get away!”

Kami glanced back to the others in time to see Snipes snarling at the Captains still engaged with residents of the settlement. All but three of settlers were dead, and those still surviving had abruptly turned on their heels and were now sprinting towards the relative safety of the Locker. The group of Captains nearest charged after them, cutting the sobbing traitors down from behind with ruthless efficiency.

Snipes looked about him with mild interest, before taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. Like Kami he was covered in a fine spray of blood, though he didn’t seem at all bothered by the decorative gore. He paused to kick a moaning Paladin soldier lying at his feet across the face with a booted foot before addressing Kami, “We lose anyone?”

Kami took in the dwindling chaos about her with a flicker of her green gaze, “All accounted for. Thought you wanted prisoners?”

Snipes looked to where Kami had tilted her head. A group of Captains were toying with a wounded Paladin a few meters away, letting the soldier crawl a few meters before knocking him down or stabbing him with their knives. All were laughing loudly at the soldiers’ agony, goading him, spitting on the Paladin each time he collapsed under their assault. Snipes regarded them for a moment before shrugging,

“I doubt he can tell us anything we don’t already know. Let them be.”

“Let them be?” Aeos appeared abruptly at Kami’s side, her disgust at the display evident by the expression on her face. She turned her accusing gaze on Snipes, “Does this man deserve this fate?”

Snipes’s jolly facade faded at the implied criticism, revealing a jaw set tight with anger. His burning gaze flicked to Kami, “Your question.” Without waiting for either woman to answer the Pirate King strode forwards to join in the first wave of looting as his men stormed into houses that they had once called home.

“Stop them.” Aeos turned her attention to Kami, “They’ll listen to you. Just kill the man.”

Kami considered the younger woman for a moment, taking in the flush of her cheeks and the whiteness of her knuckles as they gripped the blaster she held in her left hand. She doubted that she’d be able to stop the Captains even if she had wanted too. They had waited too long and seen far too many of their friends killed to listen to reason in the face of revenge. She re-holstered her blaster before answering, “No. They have the right.”

“The right?!”  Aeos physically recoiled in bewilderment at her answer, “How is this...” She cast an arm at the still struggling Paladin, then swept it out in a wider circle to encompass the pooling mess of bodies lying outside the settlement, “...a right?”

“These men have suffered a hurt,” Kami hissed in reply, her green gaze narrowing, “They have the choice to avenge that hurt in whatever manner they see fit. I’m not going to stop them. I cannot judge the actions of others.”

“Why?” Aeos stepped closer to her, struggling to understand even through her anger, “Because you’re such a monster?” She stabbed an accusing finger at Kami’s chest, “The Kami I knew would have never stood by and let this happen.”

“The Kami you knew is long gone Aeos,” Kami bit back, her words clipped, “Look around you. Those VE members in our ranks are a far cry from what they used to be. Yet you know that what they do now is no different from what they used to inflict on the field of war. A suit of Imperial stamped white armor doesn’t make their actions any more moral than those undertaken with a cutlass in hand.”

Aeos shook her head, “No...no you’re wrong, it’s completely different, there were rules then....boundaries.” She flicked her blue gaze back to Kami, “Not this...chaos.”

Kami pulled in a deep breath and released it slowly, bringing her temper under control.  When she spoke again her voice was deathly calm, “To be a pirate is to embrace chaos. You kill or be killed. You live with whatever moral code you choose and if you happen to die by that code then at least you die a true man. If you can’t handle that responsibility Ae then maybe you shouldn’t be here. Go back to your banners and fields and let someone else shoulder the blame when they make the orders.”

Aeos froze, her eyes searching Kami’s, before dropping them to the earth. Her shoulders slumped and her head turned away from the keening body of the Paladin still struggling bare meters away. Kami considered saying something else, but forced herself to hold her tongue. She’d said her piece. It was up to Aeos as to how she’d react. She walked away from her friend, pulling the quivering blade she had thrown up from the cracked earth as she did so. Then without glancing back in Aeos’s direction she strode purposefully after the others towards their next target.

The night air was cool, the sky, though darkened by the cloud formations that gave Eyesore its namesake, seemed calm, enveloping the small village the Helo had infiltrated. The village was like many of the others the dotted the planet, made up mostly of ships no longer deemed space worthy, mud huts, wooden buildings, and the occasional prefab shelter that was expanded beyond its original design.
The Cantina that Helo just entered was made of the latter, furnished by a few tables and stools, the rest made up of plasteel containers and wooden kegs commonly used as furniture on backwater settlements. 

Helo slowly glanced around the room when he entered, noting how no one acknowledged his presence save the bartender and a heavily scarred man engaged in a friendly game of sabaac with several other people. The man nodded to Helo then excused himself from his game while Helo moved to a table in the far corner of the room, sitting with his back to the wall so he could see the entire room and both entrances. From behind the bar the bartender appeared, walking up to him whilst still wiping down a glass.

“What will it be then?” he asked as he finished with the glass.

“Rum boiler.”

The man nodded and headed back to his station just as the scarred man approached his station and sat down, a crooked smile upon his face.

“You know most people that come in here stick out like a sore thumb...an obvious sign that they don't belong in here.”  Leaning back and dropping his hands into his lap he continued. “But you....you look like you fit in here with the rest of us cut throats.”

Helo just sat there studying the man until the bartender returned with the tall glass of rum and the shot of the same, setting them in front of Helo and a glass of some kind of frothing liquid for the man. When  they were alone again the man leaned forward wrapping his left hand around his mug.

“Your one of the Osker's aren't you?” he asked in a lowered tone. “So it's true then...He's back!”

“Indeed” said Helo, recognizing the excitement in the mans voice. “Im here looking for someone. We heard someone here had information regarding the strength of the garrison in the Locker. Any idea who that may be?”

The mans slight smile grew to a broad grin as he thrust his hand into his coat. Instantly had his pistol drawn and pointing at the man, barely visible over the table.

“Whoa!” the man exclaimed. “We're all friends here...I'm loyal to the king.”

“Slow”

Slowly the man withdrew his arm out of his coat, producing not a weapon, but a data pad, which he slid across the table to Helo.  “I met one of your guys two nights ago outside of town, he said Snipes would be rewarding any intelligence brought to him that was worth a damn. Is this what your looking for?”

Helo looked over the data pad, and started scrolling through the lines of data that inhabited the device. “What is all of this?”

“You name it....everything from supply drops to troop formations. Hell, I even noted what Jakith B’Luk  ate for breakfast yesterday.”

Helo nodded. The man sure had done his homework, even gone far enough to list the leaders of the resistance and the frequencies their com links were set to.  “Well done. I'm sure Snipes will be pleased with what you've gathered.”

The man's smile returned. “That's good news. You have no idea how excited we were to hear he had returned. The crusaders are brutes in every sense of the word, even though they claim to be righteous and doing the will of their god.”

Helo glared briefly at the man as he spoke. “Don't tell me about what brutes they are. We've been fighting them since they first arrived in this system. Trust me....the ones that died in battle were the lucky ones.”  His voiced trailed off as he stared at the door.  “When we jumped out of the system several ships were captured. Those crews that survived to be captured were thrown out the airlock of their own ships. Can you think of a worse way to go?  Alone in the cold emptiness of space?  We even found one transport full of families that had tried to escape. Every man, woman, and child on that ship was hacked apart by blades, some even were found flayed.”

The man had long ago dropped his eyes to the table, knowing he had touched a nerve.

“I'm sorry...I meant no offense.”

“No I'm sure you didn't,” stated Helo as he dropped the shot into the glass. “Here's to Snipes.” he said, raising the glass in a toast.  His counterpart did the same with his strange ale before chugging nearly half its contents. Helo, having already finished his, slammed the glass down onto the table and grimaced.

“Bah...that was rough,” he said as he bound to his feet. “I'd better be going...Snipe's will want to see this as soon as possible.” The man caught Helo's arm before he was out of reach, bringing his attention back to the man.

“If Snipes plans on taking back the Locker hes gonna need help...you guys are outnumbered even with your Imperial allies.” He let go of Helo's arm before he finished. “The people are on your side. Give us a chance and we will fight for the king.”

Helo nodded his regards to the man and headed for the door.

“Oi!” bellowed the bartender from behind the bar. “You paying for that drink?!”

At the door Helo pulled out a golden coin and tossed it to the bartender, who caught it and nodded in appreciation. Helo knew the coin was worthless in more civilized parts of the galaxy, but here in the less reputable parts of the 'verse, most merchants were attracted to anything shiny and made of metal. 

Less than 200 yards from the cantina Helo found his speeder bike, and quickly made his exit from the village just as quietly as he had appeared.

Damnit.
Kami was only playing the fool with herself. She was not drowning in insanity as Snipes or other individuals here. She was trying to though. Aeos shuddered and cringed at the playback of Kami’s words to her.

“Go back to your banners and fields and let someone else shoulder the blame when they make the orders.”

And she was fooling herself as well but at least she was aware of it.
“Kami!” She shouted at the retreating back of her friend. She stopped but maintained her back to Aeos.

“I might be waving around my banner and happy flags, but at least to own conscious in my own life, I maintain my humanity even if the Empire doesn’t. That way when I die, I die to the principles true to man in his purest and most natural form. You haven’t lost your humanity yet Kami regardless how you maintain your moral code.”

Kami shrugged and continued. Aeos bit her lip not sure whether her own philosophy was that sound and turned around. Regardless of opinions that’s been exchanged here. Kami had it right in one matter. She needed to leave. This carnage…she preferred to keep herself blind to it. It was humanity as defined by her race’s ancient culture that was capable of the destruction around her just as they were able of the pretentious civic responsibility towards the weak and infirmed. So in a sense Kami and Aeos were both capable of humanity, they differed in their approach to the definition of said humanity however.

She ignored the wolf whistles and howls of unshielded laughter at her back drowning the screams of a suffering man and started her way back towards the ship.  It would be a few hours of hard trekking if she wanted to reach it before sun down. The thought of returning to her own office and condo on Tadath however served to motivational enough.

The barren and destroyed landscape scared her almost as much as the silence of it scared her. She was a brave individual in the heat of events and battles, but something as unsettling on this always struck a chord with her. She had grown up in a waste-land herself. An underground waste-land. The reminder of modern civilization pulverized to nothing but skeletons and rust was always disturbing.

She had been walking for quite a stretch and had a vague suspicion that she had managed to get herself lost on the way. She hated traveling. It always managed to upset her biological instinct for geography and location. Traveling from one side to the galaxy to the other always meant inverting one special star-point in relation to another or reversing two special points while keeping head on the centre star such as Corellia’s sun-

A twig snapped and with lightning reflexed Aeos rolled behind broken down hovercar, her side-arm lethally poised at the head of a nine year old boy. Her arm recoiled back in reflex and she scowled back at his scowling undaunted face.

“Piss off kid.”

He shook his head wildly and grabbed her hand.

“Not scared are ya?” she asked with a frown.

Maybe I’m not that scary… The thought unsettled her. She could barely imagine herself in an ewok suite dancing around on the Imperial March as those old holoteli shows used to show when she was a kid.

The boy continued to tug. His scowl at been replaced with sheer panic which now piqued her interest in him even more. She glanced back over her shoulder to where Kami and Snipes would be amongst their brethren and then back to where she thought the location of their ship was.  The sun was dipping faster than she had anticipated.  She allowed him to pull her away with him.

Kami swept into the tattered command tent Snipes had chosen for his own, the quiet murmur of the voices within halting as her presence was noted. A small group of men were standing in the center of the large interior of the tent before a floating holographic image of the planet Osk. All looked up as she walked within their midst, their faces cast into an eerie green by the light of the elaborate projection. Snipes hefted the bottle in his hand up in a mock salute from where he was slouched in a chair to the rear of the representation of their homeworld before breaking the silence,

“All is well?”

“Well enough,” Kami met the gazes of the other men one by one, declining her head as she recognized Fury. The former Prefect’s attendance not only endorsed the full support of the Vast Empire, but suggested that the battle above proceeded well enough without his guidance. That they were already making some semblance of progress lifted her flagging spirit and made the news she had to report much less distressing, “We have only a few injuries, no deaths as of yet.”

“As of yet,” Snipe mused, taking a large swing from his bottle, “Am I to understand that we will be dying soon?”

“Not if we act quickly,” Kami moved to the controls of the holoprojector where Tanus was standing, “If I may?”

The Warhammer nodded and stood back, allowing Kami to take his place. She let the fingers of her right hand dance over the keypad and gestured with her left as the image before them shifted to reveal an aerial view of the Locker and the surrounding settlements. A section of the map representing the small square of land in which the pirates had reclaimed glowed red, whilst another, set a small distance away from the Locker, glimmered into the shape of a blue arrow. Kami’s hand hovered before the blue arrow as she continued, “Our scouts report the movement of several companies from the Locker. They’ve kicked up a fair amount of dust so we’ve been unable to get an accurate estimation of numbers, but they’re coming right towards our position.”

“How far out are they?” Fury’s eyes glittered at the news but his expression remained impassive.

“A few hours at best,” Kami replied, “Perhaps sooner if they have hovercraft.”

“It would not be too large a proportion of the Paladin’s forces,” Tanus mused, his fingers drumming absently across the pommel of the large hammer resting on his shoulder, “They’ve seen well enough what we’ve done to their men already. They will keep most of their strength within the Locker to counter a direct assault.”

Kami nodded her agreement, “And to suppress any uprising by our people if they hear the news that we are advancing. They cannot afford to fight us on two fronts.”

“They seek to eliminate us in one foul swoop,” Fury added, “If they shake us from our foothold we will be forced to retreat back to our ships.  Even if we win the battle from the air we will have lost any chance to end this quickly. We will have to blockade the planet. The locals will starve and die whilst we strain our resources to remain in place. It is not a perfect scenario but it would allow the Paladins the chance to recover and strike yet again.”

“Then we will not be moved,” Snipes lowered his bottle and rose to his feet, “We will go out and meet the dogs and end this.”

Heads nodded at the passion in the pirate king’s words, but Kami remained locked in place before the likeness of Osk, “I would like nothing more than to meet them on the field, but I believe an all out assault plays directly into their hands.” She jabbed a finger at the Locker, “If we can somehow slip a force behind their lines and into the Locker we can free thousands of our imprisoned men to bolster our ground forces. It is rumored that even more have hidden in the warrens beneath the earth, waiting for a signal to rise up. If we disrupt the guards they too can participate in the attack.”

“A bold plan, but not one without fault,” Fury crossed both arms across his chest and frowned as he considered the drawbacks, “If we send men to assault the Locker we significantly deplete the power of the group left behind to deal with the force on the way to meet us.  If our estimates are wrong they may be decimated completely by a much larger force. Additionally, we have little to no information about the Locker defenses and whether or not they have been altered in your absence. “

“They have not,” Snipes spoke up again, “I know all about the....” His mouth twisted in disgust, “modifications those spawn have made. But the defense systems we set up are still intact. “

“If their commander has any sense about him he will utilize those defenses to maximum effect,” Kami pointed out, “We may not be able to get past them.”

“Ah,” The predator’s grin lit up Snipes face yet again, “But you have already discovered the solution to that problem Kams, have you not?”

Tanus was the first to understand the pirate King’s meaning, “You mean to go underneath them.”

“Yes, under.” Snipes laughed, the sound emerging as a brutal bark of mockery, “We shall rise up from under their feet like the dead rising from their graves.  It will be as though hell has ascended into their midst.”

The four within the tent stilled at the thought, grim satisfaction radiating from each of them at the promise of such a fitting form for their revenge. Snipes took another deep swing from his bottle, “I must go to the Locker. The men will need to see their King in order to know for certain that I had survived.”

“Then I’m going with you,” The tone of Kami’s voice left no room for argument.

“Aye, me as well,” Tanus hefted his hammer in one hand, “I have a strong yearning to see my home.”

“I’ll remain with the forces here,” Fury finished, catching Snipes gaze, “If you fail, I will make them pay dearly. Even if they push us back into space I will ensure that they do not retain control of Osk.”

Snipes reached out to grasp the ex-Field Marshal’s forearm in a solid grip, “Victory or death.”

Fury echoed the sentiment, “Victory or death.”

“Well then,” Snipes span back to his second in command, “We have an assault to organize.”

“I appreciate the use of the ‘we’ even if it serves only to pay lip service,” Kami countered, her exasperation only partly for show, “Just try not to get too drunk before we leave.”

“I would not dare to call you a hypocrite,” Snipes widened his smile at his jest, “So I’ll do as you ask.”

Kami could not quite stop the frown that flickered across her forehead at the barb. Her alcoholism was not enough of a memory for her to begin to joke about it as of yet, but she understood Snipes reasoning to raise the issue in such a manner. A problem only remained such when locked behind closed doors and not discussed. For all his bluff and banter the pirate king knew a great deal about Kami, and accepted far more of her faults than she could.  She shook her head outwardly at Snipes brazen display as she spun on her heel and strode back to the entryway of the tent. As she reemerged into the bustling camp she grabbed at a nearby Weequay, one of the pirate captains helping her to restrain her fellow brethren from running off to carry out individual crusades,

“Have you seen Aeos?”

“I looked all over,” The Weequay shook his head in negative, “The scouts haven’t seen any sign of her either.”

“My thanks.” Kami allowed the Captain to move back to his duties, cursing under her breath as she absorbed the news. She’d done a fine job at isolating her friend since her sudden arrival amongst the ranks of Osk, and had rebuffed all her attempts to reconnect with her after such a long period apart. Instead of trying to sympathize with the disillusioned trooper, she’d berated her and effectively insinuated that she was a coward. It was yet another mistake to add to the growing list of mistakes she had made over the course of the last year, one that would be impossible to forget if Aeos came to harm with their disagreement unresolved. Clenching her jaw, Kami turned her thoughts from Aeos and forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She would have to be incredibly alert over the course of the next few hours if she hoped to survive. And she was not keen to meet her demise on the end of a religiously convicted Paladin’s lance.

There was precious little water to be had, What there was went fast. He hadn't eaten since he left the ship, a little under a week ago. The trek through the badlands was murder, but it made the trek across the wastelands of Osk look like a picnic. With no map progress was slow. Though it wasn't long before he picked up some tracks.

He followed them like a shadow. An hour, maybe more, behind. Not that they would have noticed him had he been right on their hindquarters. They moved like a hurricane. Sweeping the land before them, tearing down whatever the invaders had built out of the already salted earth. An act of spite. He didn't have to know the old man to understand where he was coming from. His home, his people had been crushed under the heel of these bastards from beyond the stars. He was just giving them a taste of their own medicine. 

Every step sent an ache through his body. Untreated wounds began to fester as the bandages he'd liberated from the Imperials ship became sodden with sweat. Old war wounds pulsed and rippled with pain. A rib he'd broken years back in service to his old employers, the beauty mark on his cheek he'd earnt during a planetary assault, the synthflesh, alloy and plasti-steel that made up his right arm all rang out like a choir of agony; of past mistakes; of memories. But he endured. Scout motto; 'Whatever the cost'.

And now he walked amongst them.

A petulant wind picked up over the pirate's encampment. The first signs of the coming storm. Initial reports from scouting elements had whipped the pirates into a frenzy of blood-lust and excitement. The area was alive with bodies as they hurried about readying their wargear for the upcoming battle. It was nothing short of chaos. Frantic calls rang out across the pirates from ammo haulers that darted and weaved amongst the groups, trading cartridges for booze or credits. Men gathered around the few equipment merchants who had braved the landing in-order to make a tidy score from deadmen before the reinforcements, and subsequent supplies, made planet fall. Firearms weren't the only thing on sale. A burly man who smelt of livestock hollered about the quality of his home brewed liquor that smelt as bad as he did. No tabs, no IOUs, all sales were final. Last drinks where being shared amongst comrades, as well as the odd tear from the more sentimental. There was an electric quality to the air, with blood-lust. It was like a circus.

He'd been to a circus once. One of his first operations with the Empire. He'd detested them ever since.

A shuttle broke low over the camps western perimeter, sending a ripple of activity through the camps occupants. The clatter of weapons and the hoarse cry of what passed for orders filled the air as men took cover, their assorted weaponry fixed onto the shuttles hull. He took cover like everyone else but still kept traversing the camp. The time he spent in preparation for his journey had not been wasted. He knew the hardships that lay before him. All he needed was a goal. Something he could set his mind too, something he could strive for.

Have a target, be the mission. Another hand-me-down from his time with the Imperial scouts. Originally it had been simple. Find a ship, get off the planet. Which pointed him straight at The Locker, but that had changed when he picked up the scent of the pirate hordes. He was here. The Pirate king. The Lord of Osk. Matthias Battlemont, or 'Snipes' as most knew him by. If he was here, he'd be going to The Locker. Which was why Jager had even bothered with the camp.

He needed some help in getting there.

The appearance of the shuttle had proven a blessing in disguise. All eyes were focused on it, allowing him to move almost unseen as he searched for his mark. The largest tent was where he was likely to be, which was easy enough to find. The two sentry's who'd been posted at its entrance had moved towards the shuttle, allowing him unrestricted access. Taking one last glance over his shoulder at the camp behind he, he slipped inside the command tent.

----

At the center of the tent sat a holographic projector. Advanced tech for such a rag-tag group. A low hum emanated from a Imperial-standard plasma generator that was hidden out of view. A faint glow shone from the center of the low, circular dais as it projected telemetry and topographical data of osk several feet in the air which threw much of the tent into a errie green hue. The two men inside the tent were in quiet discussion.

A regal, high society gentlemen stood in juxtapose to his scruffy counter-part. They didn't notice his entrance.

With a slow, purposeful step he began to travel the circumference of the tent, stopping when the entrance stood to his three o'clock. With his hand clenched tightly around the handle of the E-11 concealed beneath the shamble of rags that he wore as a cloak, he voiced his marks name in a low, gravely tone

The entire reason he had been forsaken to this desolate pit. The man of the hour.

"Battlemont."

The pirate lord craned his head in curiosity, eyeing the unannounced arrival but little more. It was his regal counterpart that spotted the nose of the blaster peaking out ever-so from beneath his cloak.

"He's armed..." he muttered.

A wolfish grin peaked at the corner of the Lord of Osks chops. It was disarming, to say the least. Slowly he turned, keeping his arms clear from his sides so-as-to not provoke his visitor.

"Well." he stated sharply, "You crusader bastards have already come this far, may as well give you one shot."

He could have. He should have taken him down. Beheaded the pirate's. Escape into the wastes and wait for his bewildered and reckless followers to throw themselves on the Invaders guns, giving him the chance to sneak in and cripple the Invaders. Two birds with one stone. Both sides would no doubt slaughter one another to the last in their death throes. No more Osk. No more invaders. No more hassles.

He didn't. He was starved, dehydrated, paranoid, boarding on a survivalist fueled madness. But he was not suicidal. With a grunt he cast back the cloak, revealing the dust caked blaster, its empty cartridge port for all to see, before pushing the cowl back off his head. The grin returned to the Pirate Lords face as he took a quick swig from a bottle he had clenched in his grip.

"You had me going for a second there." he snickered, throwing a glance back towards his stoic looking associate. A group entered the tent before he could look back. Awkward timing was an understatement. The group of four came to an abrupt halt, as if they had walked into the wall of tension that presided over the tent. It took them a brief second to register the weapon in his grip, and that he was not one of them. The clatter of weapons being raised and drawn rang out across the tent, slanting the odds dramatically into their favour. Snipes let the situation play out uninterrupted, licking the residual liquor from his lips as his eyes glanced between the two groups.

Silence took hold as they waited for an explanation that was never coming, whilst the pistol strapped to his back began to burn like a forest fire, taking all of his self control not to instinctively pull it whilst throwing the blaster as he made a desperate lung towards the projector. At this proximity he couldn't miss. Neither could they.

The youngest of the four, a female, broke the silence. He recognised the voice instantly.

"So... what now?"

Fyre Stone. Abalar. Stormtrooper. They used to be squadmates. If she recognised him, or what was left of him, underneath a good month and half of dust-caked facial hair and filth, she didn't show it. Infact, he knew them all. The block like stature and stoic demeanor of his ex-squadmate and commanding officer Jegora Fal. A relic of the Empire by any measure of the word. The younger, chiseled looking Solvona, a close associate of Snipes and an Ex-trooper. He and Jager had served together during the clean up of Tadath after the Thrawnist invasion. It was funny how things worked themselves out. The older female that stood to the fore of the group, a hold-out blaster sighted on his throat, he didn't recognise.

"He explains why he's here" Snipes began, the smirk fading from his lips, "And then we go from there." All eyes fell onto him, and at that exact moment he had nothing to say. He had been living on the moment for what felt like an eternity. From second to second, acting on impulse and reflex alone. Words did not come easily. They didn't have to.

It was Jegora, the largest man in the room by far, who saw through the filth.

"Son of a bitch..." he muttered, "Of all the places." Snipes shot him a curious look before taking a closer one at the unkempt individual before him, snickering thusly as he too saw through the squaller.

"I'd recognise that beauty mark anywhere." he stated to no one in-particular, "Long time, no see, Jager. How have you been holding up?" The others lowered their weapons cautiously, exchanging looks between themselves whilst Jegora rubbed the bridge between his fingers in frustration. The two had never been on friendly terms, though they had built a mutual respect out of service. He knew Jager's involvement usually meant trouble. The tension took its time dissipating from the tent as Snipes muttered something to his associate. Both Abalar and Tanus approached him, though kept their distance.

"You smell like a dead bantha." Stone announced, holding back a gag "Where have you been?" The tone in her voice giving away more feeling then she wanted.

Taking generous mouthfuls from a flask Tanus had offered him, he cleared the dust from his throat. The liquid burnt down the length of his throat, but he kept it down with little more then a grimace, "Spent some time under the city" he mumbled, taking another painful swig before handing the flask back to Solvona, "Decided to go for a walk in the desert. Ran into you guys."

Abalar smirked cautiously at his tale, glancing sidelong at Tanus who kept his gaze firmly on Jager. He could almost smell their suspicion. It was almost too coincidental that he had suddenly appeared in their camp, hours before the Invaders were at the walls. They where alot of things, but they weren't stupid. She was about to say something when Snipes appeared at her shoulder,

"You just got back from the locker?" He was tone was more trusting then the looks on their faces, though he probably suspected betrayal more then any of them.

"Underneath it, yeah." Jager grunted, resting on the lip of a table.

"How'd you get out?" the Pirate lord pressed enthusiastically

"Exposed section, a klick out of the city." By now the older women had joined him, a suspicion curiosity on her features said she was interested in what he at least had to say, the blaster in her grip saying he'd better not waste her time.

"Can you get us back in?" She quiried, beating the Pirate King to the punch.

"On one condition. You give me a ship afterwards."

"Deal." Snipes stated sharply, silencing any protests from his female associate as he motioned the beleaguered wanderer towards the dais. With a reserved sigh, his raven haired associate fell into step.

He was still an outsider. He could almost feel the Pirate lords eyes attempting to dismantle him, like a hawk looking for its prey. He could very well be leading them into a trap, then again if he was a crusader he would have taken the shot. The odds were even, but either way they were going to the Locker, and either way that was a win to Snipes. Either way, he was dead.

The Locker or Bust.