The political conversating between the officers went over Cathal's head. His stomach was threatening to rebel on him, his body shook and his heart was hammering in his chest. He was blinking away sweat from his eyes, the cramped confines of the helmet making him wish he was back on Coillte, head bare and the wind gusting through the trees. Not on a bloody Star Destroyer with a few score blasters preparing to flay him and his comrades apart. Despite the tremor in his legs, his aim didn't waver from the stormtrooper opposite him.

The commandos had the Admiral secure. Well as secure as they could be, outnumbered and aboard an unfriendly vessel with dozens of blasters trained on them. It only half relieved him, he was well aware that he was their priority, not some wet behind the ears stormtrooper. Still, it was good to have the real pros with them as opposed to having a snapshot take his head off.

There's certain words that just cut through any reverie or train of thought. Bomb is most definitely on that list. Only his training fought instinct to stop him squeezing the trigger. “Don't frakkin' shoot!” the corporal hissed on the comm, her native accent bleeding into her Basic from stress. NCOs everywhere were making sure the affair didn't descend into a shooting gallery. Well... not without orders first. He half ducked, flinching, prepared for a blast.

It probably saved his life. The saboteurs fired wildly, wanting to keep heads down, to deter or slow any pursuit. They were more concerned with making a break for it than making notches on the killboard. By luck or cruel fate, a blast still drilled Mynock right between the eyes. Mynock didn't make a sound, he just keeled over, as if poleaxed.

Cathal was frozen, next to him. He'd not been the closest to Mynock, nobody had been. For what it mattered though, he'd been with him from the start they'd been on the same troopship out to the Ejj system. Like him, Mynock had been there for their baptism of fire on Aostrolla. He'd not shirked from fighting renegade Imperials and he'd watched his squadmates' backs. And most importantly he'd made it off Aostrolla when many others hadn't. To be shot like this, a freak chance, on what was meant to be a secure vessel, it wasn't just unfair, it was cruel.

The hanger was chaos, the commanders being secured, soldiers scattering, ratings taking cover behind crates, shouted orders and swearing. But for Cathal it was like his vision had blotted out everything but the hanger doors and the two fleeing figures there. Not even fully aware of what he was doing, he was moving forward, breaking into a run. He was dimly aware of his corporal screaming at him over his helmet com, promising a court-martial if he didn't get back into formation. A stormtrooper, he didn't know from which side, made a grab for him. Not breaking stride, Cathal's rifle stock slammed viciously into their helmet. Rage lent him strength, stumbling the other and letting him break free.

He moved with a single-minded purpose, a wolfish snarl etched on his face beneath his helmet. Whoever they were, they were dead. It was a blood feud now, he wasn't going rogue, he was enacting justice. They were going to have to pry his fingers off their throats.

OOC:

Tally ho. Who else is going hunting?

White armored figures froze, blasters aimed but not shooting.The veterans on the other hand were a completely different story. Shots rang out in the general direction of the wannabe demolitionists, missing them only by a hairs width.
Evis wasn’t suprised when he saw Veterans from Army and Navy rise almost simultaneously. He was suprised however when he noticed some of the SGE soldiers starting. The thoughts of betrayal were gone when the sudden attack galvanized the second galactic empire and the vast empire. At least for this moment.
A couple of them set out after the duo, Havock leading the charge, only to be overtaken by Jegoras massive form. It was chaos, but at least noone was shooting blindly down the corridor.
The trouble with starships was that they didn’t really lend themselves to wide corridors that went in a straight line for a long time. So if one or two people were to dress up in uniforms and try and pull a disappearing act, one could call a starship a pretty good place for it.
So Evis stopped dead in his tracks and turned around towards where the device had fallen.
“Yeah, walk towards the supposed bomb. That’s real smart.”, he thought to himself, as he started walking. Around him Pandemonium had broken out people were yelling, and running. Vast Empire yelling at Second Galactic Empire, Army yelling at Navy, Officers at Noncoms and Non Comms at enlisted.
“Situation Normal, all fethed up.”, he thought smirking. Merrick fell in step beside him, grumbling:”What in the name of Palpatines silken knickers do you think you’re doing there, Al Bek?”
“Ma’m, I think I’m doing what only a jester would do. I’m being tremendously stupid while all hell has broken loose.”, he replied while trying to find a place to stash his E-11 before dropping it and muttering:”Stupid strapless boarding version.”
“So, you a combat engineer then? Can’t remember reading that in your record.”, she asked, apparently not caring about the dropped rifle.
“No Ma’m, never got around to completing it. I’m still surprised when things go boom, not making them go boom. But I thought I’d take a look, see if I can remember anything”, he admitted.
Merrick arched an eyebrow at him, and they came to a stop when they reached the device, three naval ratings standing beside it, looking flabberghasted.
The supposed bomb was basically a box with two cylinders on each small end. There weren’t any exposed wires, timers, or anything like that.
“Yeah… I have no Idea what to do about that…”, D’kaleth said in a small voice.
And after a short chuckle Merrick yelled: ”Can I get a Combat Engineer over here?!”

OOC:

Not great, but hey, I at least got to make up a new curse.

Oh good, Merrick thought, it’s been a whole few days since someone tried to kill me. Now my day is complete. She cleared her throat as Evis extended a hand toward the device. When he turned to look at her, she shook her head. He retracted the outstretched arm, retrieved his blaster and stood up again.
“I was just gonna...”
“No.”
“But...”
“No.”
He stopped arguing when he spotted two newcomers running towards the device. That was a sure sign they were either suicidal, or intended to defuse the thing. Merrick chose to believe the latter and pulled Evis away, more than happy to leave the professionals to get blown up. Evis didn’t really bother resisting, so she released her grip on his arm.
“Best go help with the pursuit, Sergeant.”
Nodding curtly, he loped off after the mixed bag of imperials currently chasing down the bombers. Merrick joined in the mass exodus of the hangar at a more leisurely pace, keeping an eye on the visitors, who were keeping their eyes on her. She’d refused one of the blasters that had been handed out, given she was still bristling with her usual array of weaponry. Her right hand naturally rested on one of the pistols at her hip, apparently making the other side a little wary.

As she trailed behind the rest of the group, Merrick noticed a familiar frame and made her way to his side, matching his pace. “Well, fancy seeing you here.”
Fury didn’t even have the decency to pretend to be surprised. “I thought you would still be off babysitting your king.”
Merrick shrugged as casually as she could muster. “We had a… difference of opinion. I’ve been off the leash for a while now.”
“How has that been treating you?”
They were through the blast doors now, which closed behind them so the rest of the ship would survive even if the device were to go off. They walked a little further, away from the bulk of the group, before Merrick stopped and leaned against a bulkhead. “Oh, you know, almost got killed plenty of times, barely kept my ship in the sky, murdered plenty of folks. The usual. You?”
Fury allowed himself a small grin before he replied, “eh, same old. Did you bring your ship here?”
“Yeah, didn’t have the time or means to get anything else. Straggler is parked in one of the other hangars. Whysat?”
“Oh, just in case we have to leave in a hurry. It’s a bit faster than the shuttle I came over in.”
“What, just because you gave it to me, you think I’m going to be your pet pilot?”
Fury shrugged. “Yep.”
“Hard to argue with that, I guess.”

OOC:

I had planned a longer post but ran out of steam. Apologies.

“General I’ll need to ask you to step back so the crew can complete their duties.”

Ayme pushed herself off the console with a growl. “Come on Captain, I’ve got sith knows how many half drunk troopers running through this ship on a hunt for some bomber.”

Warrant officers quickly started jumping in front of Ayme, flipping switches and responding to comm traffic. The command structure on a SSD was foreign to the General. Beyond being given a ride to large scale engagements, Ayme had little experience working directly on the large vessels. She watched on as the deck personnel proceeded to move from station to station in a synchronous orbit she could not decipher.

Captain Reyes brushed past the former Army commander and motioned for her to follow him. They left the command center and reached a small barracks. He entered his access code and the door slid open to reveal a trooper uniform and a stock of standard weapons.

“General, Commodore Cortana regrets to inform you that she will be unable to meet with you in person.” As he spoke pieces of the uniform were shoved into Ayme’s hands. “You are officially reinstated in the Army as Prefect.” Weapons suddenly were shoved on top of the growing pile of gear.

“Gee thanks. I guess I won’t be needing the inspiring speech I had prepared.” Ayme muttered sarcastically.

Captain Reyes blinked then waved his hand, moving quickly to the terminal in the room. “You need to get that gear on and use this intercom to rally the troopers planetside. There is a small base on the surface of Lotaith. It’s old, I mean really really old.” He laughed nervously. “But it’s the Commodore’s call for now.”

“The Commodore is the one that sent them hunting for bombers.”

“And she’s belaying that order General.”
Ayme slowly placed the gear on the closest bench. The room was nothing more than rows of lockers and a set of flat benches. There was most likely a training room or proper barracks near by.

“Captain, what the hell is going on?”

Reyes shook his head. “General I’m not at liberty to say much. We had an incendiary explosion on the main command deck, there were injuries. Due to circumstances I can no disclose, the Commodore is now in command of the vessel and investigating who is responsible. She in fact has a suspect in custody.”

Ayme started to put the trooper uniform on over her mechanic coveralls as she listened to the uptight version of events. “So you flyboys don’t need our rowdy presence on your pretty ship anymore is that it?”

Minutes passed in silence as the General finished getting all of her gear in place. It felt strange to be in stormtrooper garb again after so many years of being a civilian and in an office before that.

Reyes voice was soft when he started to speak from the door. “Our scouts think the base may be overrun by raiders. Regardless it has gear that could prove useful in our efforts to recapture the system.” Ayme looked up to meet his eyes. “And I get the feeling your rowdy boys can handle it.” With a quick salute the Captain was gone and Ayme was left with an intercom and a message to give.

Ayme sighed. “Don’t they know by now I’m shit at giving speeches.”

She placed her helmet on the table and sat in front of the terminal. With a final shake of her head Ayme grabbed the intercom. “Attention all former Phoenix Company troopers onboard. We have been given orders to secure a target groundside. All troopers participating in the ground assault will be reinstated. Report to hanger bay three immediately.”

Ayme released the device and dropped it as though she had been burned. Well this is going to be interesting. With her helmet still in hand she made her way through crowded corridors which held a chaos that was slowly returning to organized. She walked back into the hangar bay that was filled with few transports, save the personal ones her comrades had brought with them. Her eyes landed on her sister who was just returning to the hangar herself.

“Zee, I need you to steal my ship again.”

“Excuse me?”

Ayme stopped looking around and made contact with the slightly shorter woman. “Do you see a drop ship lying around? Look just take the troops to the surface in the Ryujin. It will fit whoever needs to go to the planet. Here these are the coordinates.” She held out a datachip which was not taken from her fingers.

“Havock…I’m just going to repeat…Excuse me?”

Ayme let her hand fall back to her side. “Come on Aeos, shit is going down here. And lets be honest, letting everyone run around on a witch hunt with weapons and liquor in their bloodstream is a recipe for disaster. Let me give them something to do. Anyways the base we’re going to is like ancient, and I know how you love scavenging in junk.”

“I still don’t understand how you managed to not get shot yet.” She reached over and snatched the chip out of her older sisters hand. “Good luck finding everyone.”

Ayme watched her walk away towards her E-9 Explorer. With a roll of her eyes she grabbed Dusk as he walked by wide eyed not seeing the General. “Hi Dusk. Get the troopers and anyone that looks like they might be a trooper on that gorgeous E-9 over there. Oh and feel free to grab any gear you see, I’m sure the Commodore won’t mind.”

“Umm okay…General.”

He brushed off his sleeve as she released him then started barking orders at the troopers.

“Oh and Dusk? I swear to all the Hutt Gods if any of you ass wipes puke in my ship I’ll fire this blaster up your ass.”

OOC:

So Army types, you should be making your way back to the hangar and into the E-9 which will take off soon (without Havock). You may pair up with a Navy type who will be flying TIE fighters with gunner seats (see The Force Awakens…seriously go see it…you really haven’t seen it?) and leave in that fashion if you like. In fact that’s how Havock will leave (/me waves and blows kisses in Drac’s direction).

There is a general confusion at the moment which is to be expected given the circumstances.

When we reach the surface we will be attempting to regain control of a very old VE army base on the surface. We are talking old out dated gear, vehicles, etc (think that scene in Jurassic World when they find the original Jurassic Park…just less Dinosaurs and more raiders).  Should be fun! Let’s get moving!

Attention all former Phoenix Company troopers onboard. We have been given orders to secure a target groundside. All troopers participating in the ground assault will be reinstated. Report to hangar bay three immediately.

Merrick stood up from her relaxed position against the wall. “Well I guess it’s back to work for me. Good seeing you.”
“Mind if we tag along?” Fury gestured towards the two guards that had taken up positions nearby when he and Merrick had stopped to talk.
She shrugged. “Sure, why not, ship’s this way.” He nodded and she led the way. One of the guards was dispatched to collect their gear from the shuttled they had arrived on, and she could hear him talking to someone else via commlink.
“Shouldn’t you be back in uniform for this?”
Merrick shrugged again. “Probably, but who knows where all my gear ended up when I left. Not like I took it with me to go spy on your pirates.”
“Privateers.”
“That’s what I said.”
They were outside the hangar now and Fury’s guard had returned, carrying his gear.

Merrick checked the hangar, which proved to be pretty quiet, before leading Fury and his guards in and ushering them aboard her ship. She readied the ship for departure, and waited for clearance.
“Where to?” Fury asked from his seat behind her.
“No idea, haven’t got the coordinates yet. I assume Havock’s back in charge so we’ll wait and see what her orders are.”
Fury said no more, and their departure clearance had been received, so Merrick took the ship out of the hangar and joined the small group of craft headed for the planet Lotaith. Not knowing what to expect had already begun to fill her with that old familiar nervous excitement that made this life so addictive.

OOC:

Sorry for shortness, again, ran out of time, again.

"O Malley!"
The young pilot stopped in her happy tracks at Aeos' call.  She was about to leave the hangar, having succesfully completed her first duty with the Empire.
"Yeah?"
"Start up the ship and wait for me. We're heading down to groundbase with some re-inforcements."
"Aye Captain!"  The young pilot happily snapped to a crisp salute before taking the datapad with the coordinates from Aeos' extended hand.

Aeos stared at the trooper who was almost skipping back to the E-9 with a blank expression.
What the...frak. It is not normal to be this happy about duty is it?

They had just managaed to land the damn E-9 after an uncomfortable hour spent trapped between several fleets thinking of their ship as a target. How the hell it did not stress the pilot out was beyond her efforts to understand.

"Relay the coordinates to all friendly transport ships."

She shook her head and continiued away from the ship to seek some troopers to squash onto the tiny ship.
Alarms were blaring in all directions with armoured soldiers bustling and jogging across the hangar floor.

On second thought... She could not recognize anyone at all anymore. Most of the soliders had geared up right down to those stony expressionless masks. She grimaced a look down to her own uniformed body. It would have to do for now. She turned back to the E-9 and made herself comfortable at the boarding ramp with a spare datapad in hand. She'd need to have the troopers check in. The chaos of their current operations was starting to turn into a logistical nightmare.

OOC:

Ridiculously short, but yeah, if all troopers can make their way to the E-9 and Aeos and clock in, we could get the ball rolling

Cathal was fast. He'd always scored high in athletics and even now in armour, laden down, he was keeping up with the saboteur. But his quarry wouldn't let him gain ground. He shouldered and shoved aside naval personnel, his face frozen in a snarl.

There! He was making a break for it and Cathal yelled, “Stop that man, he's a murderer!”. The newcomer made a dive for the saboteur, bringing him them both to the ground. Cathal was moving up but there wasn't much assistance needed, one brutal punch and his prey was down. He couldn't help himself, he smiled. A fun run but all good things come to an end.

”Nice tackle but you should have just let me shoot the scum” Cathal said, dropping one arm to help his assistant up. He hefted his rifle and began to lower it, “Nothing stopping me I guess, actually” he murmured. His finger was moving onto the trigger when the other had intervened.

“You tapped or something?” he asked, raising his eyebrow before realising the other couldn't see it through his helmet. Even devoid of armour, the other man stood taller than him. I could probably take him. But that wasn't what threw him of, it was the sudden change of tone, a voice that automatically made his back straighten. An officer's one.

Not his officer but his attempt at being smart just quavered. Sanity was returning and he was realising that he was somewhere in the depths of a rival vessel, now being confronted by an officer and that he had most definitely gone rogue. Feth.

“Not the same people as you” he responded, all confidence leaving him. The officer took it in his stride, his orders curt. Cathal found himself responding, handing over his comm and moving to restrain the prisoner. He dug his knee into his back for a satisfying cry of pain. “Bastard” he whispered before hauling the saboteur up.

 “Attention all former Phoenix Company troopers onboard. We have been given orders to secure a target groundside. All troopers participating in the ground assault will be reinstated. Report to hanger bay three immediately.” 

“No sir, not me” he answered, he was about to speak more but the officer was telling him he was coming to the bridge. He had his rifle right in the small of the back of the prisoner. And he made damn sure the other knew about it, keeping him moving with prods of the barrel.

Which is how he found himself being escorted to the bridge of the SSD. The same SSD he'd been praying to avoid, the same one their own fleet had weapons trained on. His eyes nearly popped out of his sockets at the sight of so much high ranking brass. That lasted about two seconds before half a dozen weapons swung onto him.

He would have dropped the rifle but with so much weapons on him, he slowly lowered it to the ground and took a step back. Thank the stars the officer spoke up for him but it didn't make a single weapon muzzle waver in their aim.

He swallowed, suddenly calmer now than he'd been in hours. The rage had faded but he bit back a feeling of distaste at the alien, the xenos in a captain's uniform. A Mon Cal if he remembered right from school. Frackin' fish. Luckily the helmet hid his expression.

He wasn't quite sure what had happened as the lift descended to the hangar level. Had he just been conscripted? Pressganged? Loaned out? Had he just deserted?

The lift opened onto a scene of chaos. NCOs were marshalling troopers who carried supply crates or formed up in files to embark the waiting ships. He took a step forward and-”Hey watch it buckethead!” barked a harried looking naval rating. “Frack that yo-” Cathal began to respond before he was shoved forward again by two late stormtroopers hurrying to their section. “Move it private!”barked the senior one “Get to your station!”.

A logistics ensign massaged his temples and looked to the ceiling before shaking his head at the row of crates lined in front of him. “The request was for Mk. Ivs, these are Vs!” he repeated through gritted teeth. He held up his hand to cut off the supply warrant, “I don't want to hear it. Get them back to Ralke or else I'll contact the Lieutenant and you can deal with him” he threatened, making a mark on his datapad before cursing.

Cathal was caught up in the press of bodies, swept towards the waiting boarding ramps. He came to a hasty halt in front of a grimacing captain with a dataslate. Her eyes flicked up to him and Cathal found himself snapping off a salute before he could help it. “Report” she ordered before he could muster a protest, he was never good with higher ranks. The training conditioning worked almost too well and an officer was an officer.  “Private, Mckarthaigh, Cathal. Callsign: Swamprat” he rattled off automatically “Err...Captain, I shouldn't be-”

They’d received coordinates from Havock’s ship, and joined the little convoy now making its way quickly towards Lotaith’s surface. The ships would land a short distance from the target and the troopers would approach on foot. Fury and his large reptilian friends had already donned their armour and readied their weapons by the time Merrick set the ship down. Merrick stood up and turned to face Fury, letting out a low whistle as she saw him. “Nice armour.”
He nodded and pointed to one of the bags of gear nearby. “Thanks. Got some for you to borrow, if you like.”
Merrick walked over and looked into the bag, then looked back at Fury and grinned. “You sure do know how to spoil a gal, boss.”
He chuckled quietly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Does a wild bordok crap in the forest, son?”
Fury rolled his eyes and took the lift to the lower level where his guards already waited.

Merrick stripped off the outer layers of clothing and donned the new armour. It was a heck of a lot nicer than she recalled her old stuff being. Wonder if he’ll let me keep it, she pondered briefly as she strapped her weapons back on. The blaster pistols and rifle were no-brainers, but she hesitated when her eyes fell on the much loved axe. It’d been everywhere with her since the day she’d bought it. Impractical as hell for a stormtrooper, but unexpected enough to cause more than its fair share of fear, and she’d taken more than a few lives with it. She finally sighed and slung it across her back underneath the rifle, its weight familiar and comfortable, then made her way down to the waiting Fury and his guards, helmet in hand for the time being. When the lift doors opened and Merrick stepped out, Fury looked her over and nodded his approval. “Now we’re ready to have some fun.”
Merrick grinned. “You may have to kill me to get this armour back, you know.”
Fury donned his helmet. “I’m sure I can manage that.” He followed his guards from the ship.
Putting her own helmet on, Merrick followed and closed the external airlock door.

Merrick leaned against a tree and watched the slowly forming gaggle of troopers milling around nearby. No one really seemed sure who was meant to be in charge. Havock’s ship arrived and deposited an unhappy assortment of veterans, but the General was not among them. Merrick glanced towards Fury, who shrugged. “You’re a General too, go do that commanding thing.”
“I was. Most of these pups and half the vets have no idea who I am.”
“So go introduce yourself. Some of them must have heard of you at least.”
She muttered, “Yeah, probably only bad things.” Merrick couldn’t see his face, but she was certain Fury was smirking beneath his helmet. As she approached, some of the troopers began to straighten up uncertainly. Lines gradually formed and a familiar voice issued from the one standing alone in front. “General Merrick, is that you? Nice armour!”
Merrick nodded and returned the hurried salute. “Colonel Gates, nice of you to join the party. Have you seen General Havock?”
A formation of TIEs flew overhead and Garryll pointed up. “In one of those, I think.”
“Well this is a fine mess. I guess that leaves me in charge down here. Have we got any more intel?”

Their target was a long abandoned base, visible in the near distance, that looked as though it might be dozens of years old. It had once contained a generous armoury and various other stores that, since the Imperials had abandoned the system, had fallen under the control of a group of bandits. Someone higher up had decided they wanted the compound and its contents to remain intact, so aerial bombardment was out of the question. The navy would offer some air support, but it was up to the assembled troopers to attack the place and root out the rodents currently calling the place home. Despite the age of the gear at their disposal, Merrick warned that they’d likely be facing an enemy who were better equipped than the average lowlife. “Work together, take care of the new kids, and don’t get yourselves killed. The Colonel here is in charge of the… platoon. Gates, pick yourself some squad leaders and let’s get this party started.”

OOC:

To make it easier for you all to visualise;
Fury's armour(ish):http://freshinfos.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/square-enix-stormtrooper-2.jpg
My borrowed armour: http://mohzart.deviantart.com/art/PBS-Recon-360639330

Let's go round up some bad guys.

“Kaio, wake the feth up!”

Kaio's eyes opened and the figure standing over him froze. It might have had to do with the Kaio's deathly pallor making it look like a corpse had awoken. That or the thirty centimetres of steel pointing right at his abdomen. “You need me Snaga?” he asked in a drawl, sitting up but keep his blade right at the other's stomach.

Snaga was sweating. He nodded hurriedly, before giving a questioning look. Kaio nodded and Snaga stepped back with a sigh of relief. Kaio rose and stretched, sheathing his knife. The ex-ganger was tall and broad shouldered, pallid as a nightworlder and with scars all over him. Retrieving a pair of sunglasses, he cracked his knuckles before looking at Snaga expectingly. “It's Makar who sent me” his voice was nervous under Kaio's silent look, “We've got company”.

The new residents hadn't treated Aleph-Eight with too much respect. Just as the Imperials had moved out, others had moved in. With quite a more lax attitude to hygiene and cleanliness. Grafitti decorated the walls in half a dozen tongues and scripts. The outskirts of the base was half overrun from the inoerexable advance of the undergrowth, vines, creepers, bush, all slowly encroaching on the base. Years of neglect had left it half overgrown until the newcomers had arrived, now a rota of burner teams and heavy use of defoliants fought a constant battle to keep the perimeter free.

The humidity, undergrowth, the moisture, it played havoc with tech and sensors which made it perfect for them, they'd evaded detection from patrols and sector sweeps, until now that is. And the klaxons kicked into life for the first time in years, incoming contacts.

Scavenged junk was tossed everywhere, half the vehicles and machinery cannibalised for parts while the half used kit lay abandoned. The barracks would have been condemned by any half corrupt Imperial health inspector while the omnipresent vermin infesting the base served as last minute additions to the cookpot, target practice and occasionally even pets.

What had been once a command centre had had half of its consoles torn out. Flickering data screens surrounded the centre briefing table while a score or more humans and aliens clustered about it. All were armed and all were very much with frayed nerves. No gaze lingered and no one had their back to anyone outside their group.

Makar was an edgy, scrawny, one time resident of Kessel. His story about how he'd made it off there changed every time and his jaw constantly jerked, a side effect from his spice abuse. His cutter, Ghall, stood by with hooded eyes, lazily eying everyone with equal disdain, his hand never straying from his blaster. Snaga smiled nervously as they entered, no one drew faster than Ghall.

“Look like we're all here” Kaio said easily, his smile lopsided. No one smiled back. Makar shook while he fumbled with the map controls the holo flickering in protest. “Sithshit, why isn't this working F'x'eit!?” his snarl went right to the other side where a graceful Verpine made several clicks and hisses in response. The droid echoed her words in binary, “It would have been if you'd not held back on the parts we asked for” a sour faced mechanic translated, he paused as the exchange went on, “She says be grateful the sensors we have are still operational”

“I knew we were being too overt” a smuggler said before he could help himself. “Frackin' quotas. Getting greedy's all well and good, gettin' kilt ain't”. One of his compatriots added something in cant but the smuggler chose instead to comment in Huttese. Snaga wasn't too well up on it himself but he knew what “E chu ta” meant. Wazal was a loudmouth anyways, good at what he did but half in exile since shooting two Imperial customs agents two years ago.

Makar glared at this comment on his leadership, his body shaking with barely restrained fury or he'd been without his fix for too long. When's his last hit been? Snaga wondered idly, making sure his holster was open. None of the factions here wanted a shootout but they wouldn't hold back if it kicked off. Mutual benefit and survival was about the only thing stopping the various factions from slaughtering each other. The shimmering holo showed red figures marshalling in the centre landing field but the lack of focus and unreliable instruments made it impossible to estimate how much. What was quite clear was the overhead flights of TIEs that so far had refrained from pounding the base to rubble.

“Why they frackin' holding off?” muttered someone aloud. “They obviously want what's inside banthaspawn” shot back Laoch, one of the raider team leaders. Thermal burns had left puckered scar tissue on her arms and face, Snaga had never had the guts to ask her if she'd been on the receiving end or was it her own flamethrower that had malfunctioned. “Who'd want something from here?” demanded one of the tech section. “We did, we do” Laoch told him scornfully, her snort showing him how much she valued his input.

“We move, we're targets” Makar said suddenly, Snaga tensing. Was that fear in the man's voice? Ghall seemed to straighten his back ever so slightly, his eyes never pausing. “What do you suggest then?” Vake asked, one of Szwarz's mob, he could be counted not to run. A damn sight better than some of the rabble they had. “Half of us are deserters, some have got the death mark, no one's likely to get invited to a reception on Imperial Centre anytime soon” a few half hearted laughs greeting his last statement. It was the usual rag-tag mixture of renegades, turncoats, smugglers, pirates, marauders and brigands, the guttersnipes and scum.

  “Frack it, we take them on” Laoch declared, “Feth knows I've been waiting for some payback”. Diplomacy stilled any tongues from pointing out that Laoch had entered penal servitude only after several cases of arson while on pacification duties on a forestworld.

“They have to be desperate if they're coming here” Makar declared confidently. Heads nodded slowly, even if it wasn't true, it was something to grab onto, a lifeline, that oldest and cruelest trick. Hope. “Even with Darmok's boys off-planet, we still have enough trigger fingers” his jaw vibrating after he'd spoken. Snaga winced, he'd definitely just popped a tab of something for a boost.

F'x'eit piped up again and after a moment for the translations, the mechanic ventured “The mines we planted last season wouldn't have all corroded to the rot, some are still operational. That was good kit”. A murmur of satisfaction from that, a few faces pulled too. “What ones yiz put down?” Vake asked curiously, his crew had been off-planet last rota. “Shredders” came the response, “Some springers, few plasma charges. Most of the other stuff doesn't do well in the bush”. A few more faces pulled now as minds wandered to visualise the shredders blasting out a cone of destruction, the springs jumping up to bisect troopers horizontally or plasma just cooking a part of the jungle with the heat of a second sun for a few seconds. Not everyone was okay with wishing that fate on a fellow sentient creature.

Some were more ok than others. “Better them than us” Laoch said laconically, “Supposing half the mines aren't even duds yet”. More nods, “So we let them bleed on the perimeter, hammer them as they enter the cleared zone, then what?” Vake pressed. Kaio just smiled, he'd unsheathed his blade to strop it, the sound making hairs stand on necks. He'd a reputation for being the best bladesman in the group and his band of merry cutthroats commanded more respect than their number suggested. “Then we let them in close, cook 'em with the flamers, take 'em in the corridors”

“We'd never take them in a straight fight” Snaga ventured, feeling like he had to speak up for the smuggler contingent. Someone muttered something in smuggler cant but he just waved his hand to brush it off. There was enough division as it was without making the others think they were pplanning something else. Best to stick to Basic. “We're not the army”. Close quarter boarding actions, ambushes, raids, these were all in a day's work. Going toe to toe with the Imperials was not. They always tried to get out of dodge before Imperial forces could respond. Having the armoured fist of the Empire descend on them wasn't in the plan. But with their bag of tricks, they might just give them a bloody nose before it.

“We have heavier armaments!” Makar declared, spittle flying as his fist hit the desk. The Verpine clicked and hissed, the mechanic not even bothering to hide his contempt. “Crates sealed away off-limits that we've been forbidden to touch. Something requiring specialists, training that we, even our deserters don't have”. The Verpine interjected and the mechanic shrugged “But she says we've some short-range stuff, might knock a TIE about if they fly too low”.

Kaio was already turning, making for the exit, flanked by his coterie. “Leaving a crashin ship?” Makar demanded. Kaio turned slowly, Ghall steeling himself as he focused his full attention on the knifeman. “Preparing the welcoming committee” the one time ganger announced in guttural slow Basic. “I'll expect this to be remembered when we're divvying the loot”. He sounded as casual as if they were discussing raiding a merchant, not duking it out with Imperial Stormtroopers.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

His marauders prepped in an old vehicle bay. The smallest of the factions, they kept their position in the various power struggles through sheer bloody-minded savagery and ruthlessness. Haphazard elements of Imperial armour were worn, no one raider looking the same. They'd been painted and daubed with symbols, no longer the uniform white but a mixture of drab, muted colours, camoflaged with slogans scrawled on. A dead treecat was eviscerated near the exit, troopers letting the mess be scrubbed on them despite the stench, it played havoc with the chem sensers and most importantly, gave that sense of belonging to the undergrowth. Kaio's crew began to fan out along the perimeter, waiting to meet the Imperials in the jungle. For Kaio it was oddly nostalgic, except this time he was the one doing the bushwhacking.

OOC:

This post is a retcon for catching my character up, and does not move the story. Pure character interaction.

Cathal was caught up in the press of bodies, swept towards the waiting boarding ramps. He came to a hasty halt in front of a grimacing captain with a data-slate. Her eyes flicked up to him and Cathal found himself snapping off a salute before he could help it. “Report” she ordered before he could muster a protest, he was never good with higher ranks. The training conditioning worked almost too well and an officer was an officer.  “Private, Mckarthaigh, Cathal. Call-sign: Swamprat” he rattled off automatically “Err...Captain, I shouldn't be-”

It didn't matter. Her hands flew across the data-slate almost faster than he spoke. He was not on the roster.
The Private trailed off into silence as the Captain cocked her head to the side with narrowed eyes.

"Interesting."  She murmured unholstering her pistol, her finger calmly stroking the saftey-switch on the side.

Her hand still clasping the data-slate, gestured a Stormtrooper guard closer who up until this moment had been monitoring the hangar floor activity. 
"Confiscate his weapons and armour." She ordered crisply.

Whilst the Private was in the humiliating process of being stripped down to his black spandex suit, and being cuffed, Aeos was ticking off the small procession of troopers from the Phoenix Company. Her face was pulled in an almost constant frown or grimace. Most of the troopers it seems have forgotten their places greeting her with too much familiarity or snark like that Karash fellow.  It was of course brilliant to see some of the more familiar faces such as Eviscares, the zabraki Sam or....actually that was more or less it. The rest were too fresh in their uniforms for her to take note yet. 

Havock is letting this place rot with her chaos. she thought. She instantly regretted the ill thought of her sister. It was true however. Ironically enough thus far, the biggest display of decorum has been that Private from earlier. Her eyes flicked to his sorry huddled state on the floor. The poor bloke would have been better of signing up for the Republic instead of being trapped between feuding Imperial factions she mused.

"Ship's capacity is full Capt'n. " O'Malley strong accent crackled through her personal Com-link.
"Okay, I'll redirect the rest to the next available transport. Hold five, I'm coming up in a bit."
"Aye Capt'n. Over."
Too much O'Malley, too much. Aeos thought bemused as she handed the data-slate over to one of the Stormtrooper officers standing next to her. Whether she liked it or not, her strange partnership with the rookie pilot was breath of fresh air. Just like that Cathal fellow. His eyes were still lit with curiosity and bewilderment as opposed to the thousand click stare she's grown accustomed to from the veterans.

"You." She motioned for Cathal to get up.
The man almost tripped trying to get up from his uncomfortable position on the floor until his guard yanked him up by the nape his suit.

"Are coming with me." She continued.
"| I'm not nearly informed enough to know what shit the High Command is up to, but from my understanding, we're currently in some sort of truce. I've met your boss, Trikarian, and I like him, so I'm going to tolerate you coming with. Make one misstep, and I won't hesitate in ending your life regardless of their agreement. My men and women before your life."

Aeos motioned him to board the ramp before her, whilst she took the bundle of armour and weaponry from Cathal's guard.
"Straight through to the cockpit where I can keep an eye on you." She ordered.

Getting through the crowded corridors filled to the brim with Phoenix troopers proved to be a difficult one. Barely a few seconds in, and she could hear grunting disagreements and shouts flaring from amongst the troopers.

“Which ever one of you has their hand on me, remove it now!” The voice irked her. It had spoken to her earlier when it boarded the ship.

“It’s not like I could help it; you can see how we are all being shoved in here. Sergeant.”

Aeos narrowed her eyes at the back of her spandex clad prisoner. He was still too talkative for being cuffs.

“I don’t care how tightly packed we get. If you touch me again, you won’t live to see the pretty little planet we are travelling to, Got that?” The irate owner of the voice was now shoving a finger at the Private-no-prisoner.

“Is everything alright up there?”

“Everything is great, just great!”

She recognized the tall human with a mop of brown hair despite the bustle of people as she rounded the curve of the corridor. Up until now, her eyes have only had space for Cathal's back.

Karash.

She pushed Cathal towards the front whilst she stopped to pull Karash by his armor.

"I don't give two shits about how familiar you are with General Katash, you will show proper respect in the future or keep your mouth shut to yourself. I know your digits, so we will be chatting again soon for that idiotic slip of your tongue from earlier. And keep your petty threats for the bantha fodder on the ground. Play nice and be a good boy. " She murmured quietly into his ear. She pushed the stunned trooper away from, perhaps with a bit too much strenght and continued to push through the mesh of bodies and armor towards the cockpit, her eyes and barrel of her blaster pistol still trained on Cathal's back.

Captain Gorma sprang into action the intant the shuttles departed the ship, he pulled out his comlink and hailed one of the officers under his command with the Ykntola Order. "Lieutenant Kriffex, Code Red, General Order Two, standby to carry out Elleco Aurek Besh." After giving the order Slasher turned back toward the hangar, it had been a long time since Slasher had flown a TIE Fighter in combat, so he made his way instead to one of the shuttles that ha almost finished preparations for its flight down to the surface.  He stopped momentarily on his way to the shuttle and picked up a forward air controller loadout with it's enhanced comm equipment.

---------Guardian Class Light Cruiser Eloquence----------
Lieutenant Kriffex turned away from the communications console and called out. "Helm, take us out, Comm, inform the Zella, Shadow of Lehon,  and Gallant to form up with us, and the Lidia, Vengeful and Gallagher to take up their positions"
"Aye Captain" responded the crewmembers as the six Guardian class ships move into low orbit around the planet.

--Fire control--
Petty officer second class Kilrom had just run his final system check when the comm unit on the wall beeped and demanded his attention.
"Gunnery."
"Bridge, get the weapons powered up. We have been ordered to to provide close support for the ground forces.

The seven ships slid into the atmosphere as the combatants on the surface clashed together. They held their fire as they hovered in position, blocked from view on the surface by the low cloud cover, the first flight of TIE fighters screamed by to strafe the positions held by the bases' current occupents.

And so the battle was joined

The drop down to Lotaith went relatively and surprisingly smoothly with Makenna at the helm. It seems she and the ship’s AI were starting to get along despite the snark from the programmed code.

Her eyes rested on Cathal’s frame. She had banished almost all of the squashed troopers to squash eachother outside of the cockpit without interferring on Makenna’s nerves.

Cathal avoided her stare clumisly, unnerved by his lack of protection and arms as well as her uniform.  She sighed and leaned her head into her fist, dropping her pistol. She had no idea what to do with the poor soldier.

“O Malley, put me through to Havock.”

“Yes Capt’n.”
A few seconds later, Havock’s voice crackled and broke through the cockpit.
“My ship still in one piece?”
Aeos repressed the urge to snorted.
“Please turn of the broadcast, I’ll take this one privately.” She reached out and grabbed one of the clunky headsets hanging from the back of makeshift hook of the chairs.
“The piece of junk is still in tact. Honestly, you have done more damage to it than anyone else. Manual overide? Are you stuck two-thousand years in the past?” Aeos muttered at her sister.

“Whatsup Aeos?” Havock asked pointedly ignoring her sister’s quip at the ship.

“I have one of Trikarian’s….soldiers here in cuffs What do I do with him?”
It was quiet for a moment before Havock responded.
“We have an unofficial agreement with Trikarian. His soldiers remain in our friendly custody until we are all consolidated together.”
“So he’s one of us?” Aeos queried frowning.
“Essentially.”

“So, what do I do with him?”
Cathal was desperately trying to play it as casual while she and Havock conversed.
   
“You will need to figure it out. He is stuck there for the moment.”

“I can’t send him out with the squads. The only reason we are even attempting this half-arsed ground attempt is because the vets are in tune with eachother.”

“Calling my forces half-arsed?” Havock asked, the tone of her voice becoming increasingly crisper and colder.

“Not pulling punches Havock, this is suicidal. Half of the troopers have been drinking only an hour ago. What the frak is the Council thinking?”

“Piss on their parade afterwards if we survive, otherwise focus on getting things done over there.” Havock’s voice broke with a static off from their link.

Aeos swore bitterly at the headset in her hands and tossed it away from her. She grudgingly tossed Cathal the keys to his cuffs and motioned him to gear up.

“I can’t put you with any of the squads. And I can’t trust you in the field. A bored soldier is equally as dangerous however. You will be manning this ship with O’Malley here as the pilot.” The Private nodded afirmitively whilst he struggled uncuffing himself.

O’Malley, I need you to pick up additional hover-bikes from the cargo hangar as well as more amunition. Stock this ship to the brim with supplies and come back. Tell the quartermaster to use his imagination. It seems we’re winging this operation. We’re a small force down here, it will go faster than the bigger sluggish transport vehicles. I’ll organise an additional guard for you. Cathal, report to me when O Malley returns. My threat from earlier still stands. Our men and women before your life. ”

30 Minutes Later

Aeos’ gaze locked on the E-9 till it disappeared completely from sight.
She hoped that O’Malley wouldn’t mind her shoving the Private down in her company to make the transport runs. Around her, the ground was alive with the smell of fresh oil, boots crunching across gravel and dirt and shouts being barked from every corner.

She turned around on her spot, observing the myriad of military patterns.
The logistical nightmare was still ongoing. Some tents were already being pulled together, with admin soldiers squirreling back and forth between them. She sighed and facepalmed her head.

Guess I could help with the ground HQ setup once we get that base.” She thought to herself. She was far too old already to be playing along with the troopers at the frontline.

Fury left the nominal non-combatants to keep assembling the base camp, along with a couple troopers far too inebriated for a forced march. If nothing else, he wanted a tarp to hide under when the afternoon rains came in - provided he lived that long.

Both Dashade were carrying autoshots and a whole host of sharp, pointy things, stun sticks, and a bandolier of grenades. Each. One of them was carting a squad automatic weapon for some reason. You know. In case.

He had his blaster rifle, a couple pistols, and a smaller autoshot strapped across his back. Between the feed from his inskin, the constant chatter of a bunch of ex-troopers who had remembered nothing about noise discipline, and the local jizz channel he remembered keeping on in his office lobby to annoy people that he was surprised to still find operational, his head didn't have enough room for thought.

Which was fine. Each of the four squads had assembled and started moving forward. He and his team were on the right flank, trying to flush out any scouts or patrols that should have been out in abundance trying to figure out just what the hell was going on.

"Anyone see, well anything?" he asked on the platoon channel.

Each squad leader chimed in with negative contact. They kept moving.

In time, they came across a repulsorcraft abandoned by what passed for a roadway around here. Heat sensors indicated a couple bodies hiding behind a nearby wall. Fury shrugged.

It was a utility speeder with an open bed, basically a really sturdy farm vehicle. Guess he was about to upgrade the force. One of the Dashade grabbed some stuff out of the bed and started mounting the heavy gun to a crossbar. Fury jumped in the cab, fired up the vehicle and waited for his irregulars, five of them now, to jump in. One rode shotgun, the rest got in the back with the Dashade.

He yelled a thank you to the two out in the field and they took off. He tagged the location on his map. Provided he didn't turn the vehicle into slag he'd try to return it later.

Cathal stood there awkwardly, trying not to fidget in his armour as the captain's eyes flickered up from her dataslate. Her narrowed eyes and cocked head made him shuffle and drop his gaze. Right in time to see one hand casually unholster her sidearm, finger right on the safety catch. “Ah look here-” he tried to explain. She didn't tense, her hand just gestured and then there was a rifle barrel in the small of his back.

He meekly submitted, letting his rifle and sidearm be taken, two troopers stripping the armour down while a third kept their weapon on him to make sure he got no smart ideas about struggling. The officer just strode past him and resumed her checklist. A yelp escaped him as he was cuffed roughly and forced onto his knees.

“Look this i-” he shut up fast at a rifle prod. It was a relief to have his helmet off, it wasn't a relief to be held prisoner at gunpoint. The officer had returned and was gesturing for him to get up. The cuffs made it hard until one of his guards yanked him up.

“Captain, you can't do this” he tried to protest but it was pretty clear that she wasnt going to be swayed. The weapon also made for a convincing argument, Cathal obediently filed aboard, herded into the mass of troopers.

He bumped into a tall figure ahead of him and immediately was the brunt of a verbal assault. “It's not like I could help it, you can see how we're all shoved in here. Sergeant” the last was said with as much venom as he could muster. His escort intervened swiftly to administer discipline. Cathal bit back a smirk, enjoying seeing someone else on the receiving end for once.

It didnt last, his escort shoved him forward, her pistol barrel making for good motivation to keep moving onward. Prodded into the cockpit at gunpoint, he was doing his best to avoid her gaze and remain as unobstructive as possible. The officer didn't seem in the mood for talking so he did his best impersonation of the invisible man.

His ears perked up though as a transmission came through. It was in his best interest to eavesdrop. The officer knew that too and a set of headphones effectively cut him off from half of the conversation. Cathal stayed mute, head down while he strained to hear everything he could.

“So, what do I do with him?”. Cathal felt cold sweat at those words. The officer made him sound like an unwanted snag. He wasn't going to get tossed out an airlock or executed was he? He looked up in disbelief at the next words, half their soldiers had been drinking?! He had the grace to wince as the officer began swearing at her headset, tossing it away from her.

O please don't take it out on me. He had no desire to be target practice. But he didn't expect the keys to be tossed at him. He caught them awkwardly, fumbling as he tried to unlock himself. “This isn't a trick?” he said dubiously. He straightened up, massaging his wrists with a grimace. He eyed the smaller woman warily, as if still expecting her to blast him with her pistol.

His eyes widened as she told him he was being conscripted. He opened his mouth to speak and jsut as abruptly, shut it again. “Yes ma'am” he said automatically. Her voice didn't hold much sympathy, she'd shoot him out of hand if he tried anything funny and it was made abundantly clear that on the priority list, he was a long way down. Plus she had his name, rank and number. Cathal had made it his strategy to never catch an officer's attention. Well that had worked out well. Feth.

30 Minutes Later.



Cathal checked his power pack for the fifth time, letting the pilot do her work. He'd never had cause to mingle too much with the Navy. The Imperial advisors on Coillte had all been seconded from the Army with occasional other specialists. Basic training had taught him pick out a TIE from a Star Destroyer but not much more than that. In the SGE most of the Navy seemed to view the grunts as an unnecessary and irritating addition to their shiny fleet, merely as living cargo. Naturally the infantry viewed them as a glorified taxi service.

So this pilot O'Malley commanding the E-9 was as exotic as some coreworlder or alien race. To a groundpounder like Cathal, she might as well have been a different species. Plus...she was a woman. Not that he'd a problem with that but his own experiences with the infantry had coloured his perspective. Being detained and disarmed by a female officer had already proven that viciousness knew no limits. His own cousin back home had demonstrated she could fling a punch well enough when it came to closing time in the pub. It was a surprise to see the VE appeared to promote on merit, less rigid and hidebound than his early Imperial experiences had led him to believe. He'd seen plenty of aliens and women in uniform, a lot of them a higher rank than he was.

“Are these ships standard issue for you fleet?” he asked awkwardly, no harm in talking. She wouldn't bite. “Ma'am” he added hurriedly.

They had pulled over to check an engine light. Good thing too. One of the irregulars had walked to the top of the hill to take a look around (and take a leak behind a tree) and came back more excited than someone should be after watering a plant.

"There's a checkpoint down there! And they seem to be getting ready for something."

Fury dropped the wrench he was holding since it wasn't doing any good anyway and followed the man up the hill, carefully avoiding the last spot he had been. Crouching down, he took a look at the enemy position down below.

Cobbled armor, mostly old Imperial, but a lot of more recent off-the-shelf constabulary armor used by local security forces around the galaxy. Definitely a move by the locals to appear a) non-aligned, and b) not a military takeover. Kept the citizens from tipping over patrol speeders and tearing up the roads for barricades.

A couple of same patrol speeders and about two squads of troops on top of the guards who likely rotated in an out of this boring posting every week or so. A guard shack across the roadway, a custom's office, a bunkhouse, and a shed that probably kept some maintenance equipment.

Everyone but the two current guards were milling about trying to look busy, and trying to look like they were not trying to avoid going past the checkpoint to see what had dropped in from orbit to break up their day.

He sighed. The marching squads were about a hour behind him. They could swing around the checkpoint but that left a lot of blasters that even in timid hands would be an unwelcome danger. Plus, well, patrol speeders. They could use them.

Also, he was really fricking bored.

Crawling/walking back down to the rest of the team, he found inspiration.

"Anyone got an allergies they want to tell me about?" he asked. The concerned looks told him he knew this was going to work.

It took another twenty minutes to get the speeder running well enough to keep moving. In that time, he'd sent a few of the irregulars out into the fields to tear up any tall grasses and not-so-great looking plants. No need to totally piss off the farming community any more than they already had. He had ripped up some feed bags left in the bed that they had been using as seats/makeshift armor and cobbled together a poncho of sorts. He made two. Taking off his helmet, scuffing up his armor, removing his arm plates, and putting on his burlap nightmare, he grinned.

"Do I look pathetic or what?" he asked.

One of the Dashade just snorted and shook his head. He was taking down the heavy blaster rifle and was apparently just going to use it as a sidearm. These guys scared him at times.

After a hopefully inspirational speech to get the spine up on the irregulars, he grabbed a six pack from the cooler the farmers had left behind, and opened one up.

His passenger unhappily put on his poncho, took off his helmet, and climbed into the cab, setting one of the autoshots next to him. Both Dashade and the rest of the team climbed into the back and pulled reeds and weeds over them. Fury made sure they were well covered.

"Remember, the code word is 'loud screaming and blaster fire'," he added helpfully. Someone raised a middle finger, then lowered his arm. Fury recovered that particular spot with a thorny looking weed.

He climbed into the cab, unhooked another beer from the ring and handed it to the other trooper. "Relax. If you look tense, they'll start shooting at us faster."

He fired up the truck and climbed over the hill.

---

Slowly maneuvering down the path, two things came to mind. The first was that these soldiers really did not want to fight. Sure, the guards were alert and waiting for them to get to the gate, but the rest were just nervously hanging around, hoping no one would give them an order. The second was that no one gave a damn about a dusty field truck.

He reached the gate, grabbed a beer and poked it out his side of the truck. "Hey man, what's with the grunts? We having a parade today or something?"

The guard took it stride. "Um, sir, just some maneuvers. See anything weird out there? Also, well, what are you wearing?"

Fury looked down. "Oh, just doing some spraying. Yeah, saw some folks broken down a few klicks up. They didn't seem to want any help though. And those clouds? I think we're gonna get more rain today..."

"Thank you sir. Want to tell me what you are hauling? And what's wrong with your partner there?" He waved the other guard over.

"Oh, he just hates me. Thinks I'm trying to get him killed. Frankly, he needs to learn to have a little fun. Speaking of..." he tried handing over the can of beer again.

The guard waved him off. "I'm on duty sir, please stop trying to give me a beer."

Fury climbed out of the cab, trying to keep the material over his armor. He shook the can a few times behind him as he stepped out.

"Everyone has to be so damned serious today. Lighten up and HAVE A FREAKING BREWSKI!" he yelled as he opened up the can one-handed and sprayed the first guard in the face. The second he shot with a stun bolt from a pistol in his off-hand.

He dropped that pistol, and pulled his trusty Thunderer-6 from his hip holster while beating the beer can into the guard's face and spinning him to become a human shield. To the surprised troopers he found two bringing up blaster rifles, dropped them with a flurry of shots, then hit his guard in the back of the head, then letting him fall to the ground.

Two Dashades and a confused mass of humans jumped out of the truck, spreading out and trying to secure the grounds. Next to him, his copilot blew out the windscreen of the speeder with his autoshot and dropped the next three heroes who went for a weapon.

Hands went up.

"SURRENDER IN THE NAME OF THE MOTHER-FRELLING EMPIRE, YA HAYSEEDS!" yelled Fury.

Next to him, a beer can popped open as the trooper cradled the autoshot in one hand and raised the can to take a drink.

"Is it always this easy?" he asked.

"Hell no, but days like this make it worth the others. Kind of."

To his new prisoners, he called out. "Alright, stand up, don't go for a gun, and maybe we'll all get a nice lunch without anyone else dying. Seriously, I will bury anyone who gives me any ass going forward." That seemed to convince them. The rest of the team were collecting weapons, grabbing comlinks and sorting the captives into a couple of neat lines that could be easily managed, or gunned down. The guards were stun-cuffed until such time as they cared to rejoin the waking world.

"Now, who wants to have a seat and tell me about your base, who is in it, and how big of a problem they are going to be? He moved some crates and stacked two piles. "I mean it, none of you are gonna have a seat until I get some damned answers."

He drank his beer and waited a few more moments, shedding his poncho and reassembling his armor. A couple of dark clouds rumbled and a light rain began to fall. Those not on guard duty began inspecting the barracks and the insides of the patrol vehicles. The prisoners looks humiliated. Wet and humiliated.

"Ah, a little incentive. Who wants to crack open a beer and tell me what I want to know?"