This is ridiculous. was Dante's first thought.

Raiders Squad's last mission had almost been ruined by the poor planning of the foxtrots in Command and an unfortunate accident had resulted in one of his fellow troopers losing a limb.

Now, the idiots giving orders were telling the whole squad to report to a Lieutenant on some Outer Rim rock called Garg II, while giving next to no intel.

With this kind of support from HQ, we'll probably be calling a Red Zero within a week. Looks like a real 10 Percent to me.

Darr was speaking again. Dante straightened up and listened intently.

"it is a captured Thrawn research facility that is being used as a forward base of command. Currently the VE owns this area."
Two mountains? If the Thrawnist wetdroids have the rest of the planet, the base will be a pile of slag within a few days and probably us too. This had better not be a suicide mission...

"We will be heading towards the transport as soon as this briefing is over."

How considerate of the High Command. What are they afraid of, desertions? Good thing I brought my DC-17 and pistols.

Rogueboy asked the question Dante had been about to ask: "How long is this campaign going to take, approximately?"

Dante had been expecting a long period of time, given that everything else had gone wrong, but was outraged to hear that the HQ didn't even think them important enough for a timeline.

No wonder they were afraid of desertions...

Still he was a soldier of the Empire and would do his duty. Still he couldn't help but wonder what kind of spice the High Command was high on to send a whole squad on what was starting to seem like a suicide mission.

Still, I'll do my duty.

Sometimes Rogue hated the HC, now was one of those times. There has been more than one squad that has entered the lists of the deceased because of a suicidal mission. The Raider’s ASL plodded along following the trooper in front of him; sometimes you cannot avoid your fate. Rogue paused, since when did he think like that? It was his habit that when the shit hit the fan he make himself scarce.

To hell with everyone, take care of number one.

Why do you listen to that loser? You’re assistant squad leader, doesn’t that mean anything to you?

We didn’t survive to this point trusting other people.

Wouldn’t have survived anything without a little trust in someone.

At that moment Namyr walked across Rogueboy’s field of vision and a sudden guilt grew within him.

She trusted you.

You let her down, just like everyone else.

She did forgive you.

Out of pity.

I think it’s time to earn her trust.

Why bother? You already stabbed her, are you going for the twist?

You can make things back to the way they are.

Do you think she will even trust you that much?


Rogueboy shut out the voices, he hated the nerf suckers always creating doubt within himself and never ever helping in any given problem. Still, they created his conscience and that’s what drove him to live his life.

The squad boarded the transport in single file; Darr doing the attendance to make sure the entire squad was here. “Did you bring Patch?” Darr asked as he finished the call.

Rogue shook his head. “Was I supposed to?” Before quickly adding. “He is in the barracks rewriting  the script for a few of the server droids. However I can tell him to bring his squeaky ass to the ship.”

“Can you please do that?” Darr asked.

Rogueboy picked up his comlink and sent out a message to Patch who beeped a happy response. “He’ll be here in two minutes.” Rogue said as he entered the shuttle.

Within five minutes the squad received clearance to leave the port and they entered hyperspace. Patch was aiding the pilot and the rest of the squad was playing sabaac for small stakes. Darr saddled up to Rogue.

“How come you’re not playing with the squad?” The squad leader asked.

“Don’t think I’ll be welcomed.” Rogue bluntly stated.

“I think you’re harder on yourself then other people are.” Darr said matter of factly.

Rogueboy looked Darr in the eye and realized that this was true, and it was in fact an incredible flaw within himself.

Darr continued. “I think it’s your duty to bond with the squad as best as you can, if you get higher in the army you learn that the friends you made now are the only ones you can trust. It becomes all political.”

Rogue listened but he already knew this because of a recent scuffle that Darr had with one of his higher ups the squad was assigned to this nerf shit mission.

Rogue sighed as he got up from his seat and went to go sit next to where the squad was playing Sabaac. “You joining us?” A familiar red Twi’lek said her lekku were brought to the front in what Rogue found an adorable fashion.

“Think I will.” The soldier said with his trademark grin as he was dealt a hand.

He brought the MG-1 Electrostaff in a arc above his head and smashed it into the Rebels head in front of him, reversing his swing he took out the one behind him. Letting his legs slide behind him he dropped flat just as several blaster bolts flew over his head.


Jumping up already at a dead run he dove for the Rebels cover and smashed into the duracrete wall at full speed.


"Squad meeting in ten minutes, all simulations terminated." His comlink echoed in his ear.

He didn't really bounce, just sort of melted down onto the floor. Unlocking the latches on his Katarn Commando armor helmet, he let the cool air cool his sweat for a few moments before standing up and making his way to the briefing room.

Slipping the MG-1 Electrostaff into its holster on his back next to his modfied DC-15, then checking the latches on both of his DC-15s pistols on his hips, he walked into the briefing room still covered in sweat and sat down.

Great, he thought as he stripped his armor off in the shuttle a few minutes later. Some mission briefing, we get next to no intelligence about what we are going to face. And to top it off we don't have time to get any of our own weapons. This is not going to be a fun trip.

This is it. You're going to die.
No I'm not. If I survived the Clone Wars and Palpatine, I'll live live through this.
Ah, but how can you be sure? You're no Jedi..., an insidious little voice inside of him seemed to say.

Dante had heard it before. He head heard it when he had seen a shadow move on a SpecOp, and had blasted a toddler's chest into slag.

He had heard it on the barren wasteland of Duro, and on the molten rock of Mustafar, which had been a place of slaughter since aeons before the Clone Wars and would be a place of death when even they had been forgotten.

Sometimes it seemed to speak to him with the voice of his old comrades in the Merc Brigade, at others with the voices of those he had killed or seen killed.

He could block it out and almost entirely forget it, especially in the heat of battle. but it would always come back. No matter what he did, he would remember.

I will live, just to prove you wrong.

I? I don't exist. I am just a figment of your imagination and guilt. First sign of madness is speaking to yourself.

Better insane and alive than sane and dead.

Can you honestly believe that?

Yes.

Dante was distracted from his reverie by the whine of the troop shuttle's engines. The stars flickered with pseudo-mosion and the shuttle vanished into the void.

Soon, the rest of the squad started up a game of sabbacc, hands suddenly quick and precise, movements becoming blurs. Soon, however, the memebers of the squad seemed to lose interest, and Dante withdrew as well.

He sat back and waited for the sense of purpose, the sense of inherent rightness[i][/i] that usually came with a mission. Obstinately, it refused to appear.

Dante sighed, and closed his eyes, trying to relax.
I have a bad feeling about this...

Hard hands that have only held a rifle and duty now clung to a woman something that Rogue hadn’t touched in a few months. He had been working extra hard in his ASL duties trying to re-earn Darr’s trust, show people that he was competent at what he does; killing people and handing in reports. Rogue had been running extra simulations his life was devoted to the necessities, duties, and training; long range precision, short range blaster fights, running through obstacle courses, and weight training. The ASL however had not brushed up on his melee training for reasons of it making him remember countless hours of brutal drilling with a dual blade wielding Twi’lek.

The two of them were alone for the first time in over a couple of months and Rogue did not relish the feeling; he had stood her up on more then one occasion because he did not like what she was doing to him.

“What has been going on with you Rogue?” She asked before continuing. “I mean, you didn’t show when we made plans, you’ve been ignoring me, I just want to know what’s wrong?”

Rogue felt himself anger slightly because he had been reduced to avoiding someone which was something that he always hated to do, and secondly because Namyr did not notice her own faults. He decided to be blunt.

“Gee, I wonder, Nams has it ever occurred to you what you do to men?”

Nams put down the clipboard and frowned. “What do you mean?”

This added fuel to Rogue’s fire and he pushed the point home with cracking a crate with his bare fist. “Damnit Namyr, you mess with our minds, you’re off with Doc.”

Rogue let the words spew out and he heard Namyr respond with a venomous tone but the entire time he was looking into her eyes, saw how they narrowed and thought that she was absolutely stunning in that moment. He saw her raise her hand to slap him but he quickly grasped it and pulled her close, he spoke something soft before kissing her. At first she squirmed and tried to get away but she soon ceased and committed herself to the situation they were in.

The memories seemed to flood Rogueboy about the many times they had kissed always in a drunken state; this was the first time they kissed while sober. Rogue reached up and undid the top of Namyr’s blouse before reaching in and grabbing a handful. At the same time Namyr clung to Rogueboy and he heard her whimper in his ears as he reached down and grabbed her ass and lifted her up. Namyr wrapped herself around him and they began grinding slowly.

Rogue could feel himself losing control on the leaf that he was trying to turn, everything about duty and honour was disappearing before his very eyes and he could not give a damn until he saw the door open out of the corner of his eyes. Darr walked in looking over his shoulder while talking to Namyr and Rogue.
“Rogueboy, I wanted you to check the oxygen tanks…” Darr stopped talking as he saw what was going on and it slowly dawned on him. “What are you two doing?”

Checking the oxygen tanks? Rogue thought to himself, but he never better then to voice it. Instead he gave an answer that best simplified it. “Um, Forgiving each other and ourselves?” Rogue suggested.

The fuse blew and Darr began yelling at the two of them; “Are you two really that stupid? I mean Rogueboy did you really want to ruin what’s left of your career by sleeping with a squad mate? Not to mention ruining her career too! I mean come on, between you fighting and making up you’re giving me gray hairs. You’re making me go bald! You know what screw yourselves over, I didn’t see anything!” Darr finished his rant and stormed out of the room.

There was an awkward pause before Namyr ran out of the room. Rogueboy felt thoroughly ashamed as he sat down on one of the crates. Things were picking up in his career, his sense of guilt was washing away, he was becoming dedicated, then Namyr came in and set him back to what he was before.

But is it Namyr and not you being weak?

Shut up.

There was no time worrying about it, there was a mission at hand and he could worry about what happens after the mission, there was no time for reflection now.


OOC: Going up north, hastily ended sowwi.

Rogue quickly finished checking the gear by himself and found that the oxygen tanks were indeed short of air; which he noted on the datapad that Darr had given him.

How do I balance both Namyr and the mission at the same time.
It’s impossible you have been trying to do that for the better part of a year now.
Perhaps you should see a lawyer to look for any exceptions in the VEA book of law.
I’ll do it when...if I get back from the mission.

The voices occasionally played a helpful role in Rogue’s life this was one of them. The ship began its exit of hyperspace; how could Rogue tell? Truth was he didn’t really know but had a feeling; sure enough a voice came over the comlink to confirm his suspicions.

“This is your pilot speaking, we have just exited hyperspace and are on our approach to Garg II. We will be touching down in ten minutes at the Treat outpost and the temperature is six degrees Celsius so I suggest dressing warmly. Pilot out.”

Rogue silently cursed the high command for not giving the squad ample time to prepare for the coming mission; while the temperature would not bother Rogue as he was accustomed to taking cold showers in the mornings because he found it increased his alertness and rubbed off morning sleepiness. The soldier made his way out of the gear room and met the accusing eyes of his squad mates; they must of all heard what Darr said as the door was open. The Barabel had an unsettling stare but Rogue had grown accustomed to his species with his previous squad mate of Predator.

Unlike every counter that Rogue has had with a new recruit he would not let himself come to blows with anymore for mainly two reasons he had been warned that anymore such offences would be met with a demotion, and secondly because he realized that it was no longer necessary to do in order to make a trooper hate him.

“Pre...Sylix, when we get off the ship you’ll be helping Joamer with lugging the gear around to the armoury when we arrive at the complex.” Rogue ordered the trooper, as it was Rogue’s duty to handle the daily things while Darr was free to think of the bigger picture.

The Barabel let out an annoyed hiss as he went down to get the stuff with Joamer following quickly behind. Rogueboy raised an eye to LK who motioned towards the bathroom where the sound of gagging and vomiting sounded.

Great I literally make girls throw up, wonder what my shrink is gonna think of this one. Rogueboy thought as he waited for the shuttle to land. The bathroom door opened up and Namyr walked out looking a light pink and she sat down as far away from Rogue as she could. Rogue stared at her in an attempt to get some confirmation of what just happened in the gear room. There was none.

What the hell is wrong with her? Thinks she can ruin my career the way she has been doing for the past year?
Perhaps she is just confused on what she wants, aren’t you?
Yes, but I think before I act.
Like you thought when you were downstairs?
Touche.

The shuttle touched down in a landing pad and the squad shuffled out with Joamer and Slyix lugging heavy packs. Darr just finished conversing with the sergeant on duty at the pad before heading towards the squad. “I will meet with Lieutenant Stulbov, Rogue will escort you to our new barracks, then you will head to the armoury to gear up for the mission.” With that Darr headed towards an open blast door.

Rogue raised an eyebrow before he asked the same sergeant where the barracks was.

She could feel those amazing lime green eyes staring at her as Namyr stepped out of the bathroom. She didn't look, she couldn't look, at Rogueboy, she was afraid of what she would do if she did. How could she have lost control like that and allowed that kiss to go so far. Namyr's pale cheeks flushed a little, his arms and hands had been so strong, touching her, his lips soft with a touch of needing as he kissed her. Goddess, she had missed his kisses, well truth be told she had missed a lot of kisses lately. Namyr frowned, Riqimo had completely gone by her that morning and hadn't even tried to kiss her, and it made Namyr's heart ache.

Namyr's face paled again as the ship began to land, she had been getting better with space travel, trying to over come her fear, but it still frightened the bajesus out of her. "You know you promised yourself that you'd never allow a man to hurt you again after you escaped from Lazarus," a bitter voice spoke in Namyr's head, she shook her head and sighed, this voice again, this woman, Namyr's assumed it was a more bitter half of herself, could get annoying at times.

"I'm just saying, time and time again no matter how cruel you're to Rogueboy he hasn't hurt you, if that's not devotion I don't know what is, in fact I bet if you asked he would give up everything and give you the world. That is if you asked...."

"I would never ask, you know that, I've screwed up Rogueboy so much by now, I can't just go back to the way we were. It's better, this distance, I can't let him get hurt by me again, you know why."

The voice chuckled, "Because of the inter-squad relationship rules, or because you love him?"

Namyr bit her lip as she stood up and shouldered her medic bag, it was heavier then usual, she reminded herself after the mission to stop by the gym and lift some weights so she wouldn't have any trouble with the pack in the future. She wasn't too happy with her body, she had gained a few pounds and the curves were back, she preferred to be a little more muscle, but she could always run off those pounds in a week or two, she just hadn't felt like running in a while. After work she had gotten into the habit of just crawling into bed and sleeping away the evening and night until Riqimo came in and she prepared dinner, took a shower and went back to bed. What had happened to meeting each other at the door, locking lips, dragging one another into the bedroom, the afterwards long discussions on books they were reading, shows they had watched, work, medical discoveries. There use to be so much more to them, and now there was nothing, and Namyr hated it.

They were shown the barracks where Namyr dropped off her pack then headed for the armoury. She wandered around looking at the blades with half interested eyes, since she had new blades made from a friend back on Ryloth Namyr hadn't looked into what new models of vibroblades had come out.

'See anything you like," A voice said behind Namyr, Namyr frowned and turned to look at Rogueboy who was frowning as well.

'Rogue, what do you want?" Namyr asked crossing her arms.

"Nams, I, um, listen can I ask you something?' Rogueboy asked reaching forward to take her hand only to have Namyr back away.

"What is it?' Namyr asked shrugging off the warmth where Rogueboy's fingers had touched her.

"Why no me, why Riqimo?" Rogueboy asked his eyes pleading causing Namyr to look away.

"Come on Rogue, you know the rules as well as I do. I mean i tried to find away around them but whoever made it up made sure there no way to slip through the system's fingers," Namyr said looking at the floor.

"Why am I not enough, why am I not enough for you?" Rogueboy suddenly chimed in after a few seconds of silence.

"What?" Namyr asked looking up, her yellow eyes locking with his green ones.

"Namyr, if you let me I'd give you everything, I'd make you happy, hell I'd make you more happy then Riqimo ever could. I would take you away from this life, we can settle down, have a farm, live happily ever after, everything you could ever want I'd give it to you, if you'd give me a chance," Rogueboy pleaded his hand reaching out and touching Namyr's cheek.

Namyr closed her eyes and leaned against that strong hand, "Not everything Alex, I want children, you already made it clear that someday having children is completely against anything you plan in the future. I want that, Riq wants the same thing, if you could see the look that comes to his eyes when he sees someone else's baby you'd know too."

"Nams, he's not making you happy, you're a wreck, I thought I was bad but you hold in what's going on and it's slowly eating away at you, I don't like seeing you this way. Please, for the love of the gods, let me make you happy."

"Rogue, you know that I love you, I always will," Namyr said and let out a breath of air, "But we're the same, too much, we have to many weak areas to be together. That's why I love Riqimo as much as you, while you're just like me Riqimo is what I'm not. Where i am weak he is strong and where he is weak I am strong. Things are rough between us now, but someday they'll be better I know it,' Namyr said wrapping her arms around Rogueboy's waist, "We're so good and yet so bad for one another, if this was a perfect world then maybe, then maybe."

"Then maybe I should work on your weaknesses," Rogueboy said trying hard to hide the smile on his face and the amusement in his eyes. He lifted Namyr's chin so the two of them could look into each other's eyes. A small smile quivered on Namyr's sad features, but she tried to pull away from Rogueboy.

"Alexander," Namyr said, but at that moment, Patch, the little traitor bumped into Namyr's knees, knocking her into Rogueboy who was knocked against the shelf that was against the wall. Their lips brushed against each others, and turned into a more hungered eager kiss. A low chuckle sound came from Rogueboy's throat as his hands rested tightly against Namyr's sides, squeezing on her ribs. Namyr grimaced and pulled away, breathing heavily she rested her head on Rogueboy's shoulder, biting her lip to keep from screaming from the pain.

Rogueboy frowned and lifted Namyr's black tank top to reveal ten black bruises on her ribs, slowly and gently his cool fingers one by one rested on the bruises as he made the connection between his fingers and the bruises, "Nams, did Riqimo do this to you? Gods, it must have hurt like hell, you're ribs are still bruised since that one ARC mission, where you were...GODS Namyr! Did he, was he the one, he did that to you too didn't he? You were beat to shit, and that little, that..." Rogueboy looked dangerous as he ranted before turning to storm out of the room, probably to jump the next shuttle to VE HQ to go directly to Riqimo's office to kick the shit out of him.

"Alexander," Namyr managed to say grabbing Rogueboy's hand and holding it between her own stopping him in his place, her voice had been soft, almost pleading, a tone she had never used with him.

"Nams, give me one reason why I shouldn't go and kill this guy for what he did to you? A good reason for Gods sakes, you're too, you're...you're too precious to me to be knocked around by some creep who doesn't deserve you," Rogueboy said desperately pulling Namyr to him and wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her lekku, breathing to try to get control of his temper.

"Just, let me handle it, there are...a lot of factors that I don't even know about. Just somethings happening that's making him not act like himself, please trust me," Namyr said tears welling up her eyes before she buried her face in Rogueboy's shirt to keep from sobbing. She was comforted as his cologne filled her senses making her forget everything but that smell, Goddess how she had missed it.

"Alright, but Namyr," rogueboy said pulling Namyr away from him, "If he hurts you tell me, please promise, he can't get away with it, not with you," Rogueboy said staring into Namyr eyes with his intense green ones.

"I promise," Namyr murmured her eyes softening and Rogueboy leaned in again and gave her several light kisses to her lips making her relax in his arms before he pulled her back to his chest to hold her, to comfort her.

Darr-Rann sighed and took a deep breath. Rogueboy and Namyr had disrespected the squad code of conduct again, despite his warning. Yet, he had gotten angrier then he should have been – irrationally so. What the hell is wrong with me?

He sat waiting for the Lieutenant who would assign him his orders. He was on floor 13b – Far below the surface of the camp – Inside the occupied facility. The research building went quite deep into the ground, for whatever reason.

The door flashed and he stood up, but soldier who walked in was not the Lieutenant – A corporal saluted as she entered the room. “Sir, Lieutenant Stulbov has been delayed. He sends his apologies and assurances that he shouldn't be more then half an hour.

Darr-Rann nodded, knowing that the officer was probably quite busy, even in this late hour, with the running of the camp.

“Corporal,” He said to the soldier, “Have quarters been found for my squad?”

The Corporal nodded. “They're in the temporary quarters set up on floor 9b.” She said.

“Good. I want you to go get my assistant squad lea-” Darr-Rann began, but he was cut off by an echoing boom and the flickering of lights. He drew his weapon, a DL-44 heavy blaster pistol.

“Find out what the hell is going on!” He told the trooper, pulling out his own comlink. The building's communications network was down, so he tuned into his own frequency. “Rogueboy, this is Darr, status?”

There was a pause, then a respond cackled back, “We're all alive here. What's happening?” Rogueboy's voice rang out from the device's mono speaker.

“I'm trying to find out now.” The squad leader replied. He nodded over to the corporal.

“Apparently, we're under attack.” The trooper replied, worry crossing her face. “We got hit by an air strike. Somehow our sensors didn't pick up their fighters until it was too late to coordinate the AA guns.”

Darr-Rann swore. “You heard her.” He told Rogueboy. “We're four floors below you, assuming your in your quarters. I'll meet you on floor 11b.”

After receiving the Gunnery Sergeant's acknowledgment, he shut off his comlink and nodded to the trooper. “What's your name, corporal.”

“Alice Madine, sir. Razor Squad.” The trooper replied. Darr-Rann nodded to her.

“Corporal Madine – Until you can link up with your squad, looks like your with us. Let's get moving.”

Dante was thrown onto his back, crashing into the nearest wall. His helmetless head slammed into the metal wall, making him see stars and black out.

What in the name of the Force?

He opened his eyes and the ringing in his ears faded. There was a roar, followed by several explosions and then, for a moment, there was silence. Suddenly the ceiling gave way, revealing a grey sky filled with aircraft and many dogfights. A TIE fighter swooped over him, turning with a wailing like that of a lost soul.

He ducked, and the TIE burned a series of holes into the walls, setting fire to a tapestry. It then swerved up, back into the melee.

Just our luck. We have to arrive right before a raid.

As he watched he saw a burst of flame appear hundreds of meters above him. The ship, which had been a LAATi, or "larty", gunship plummeted. The pilot tried to regain control, but crashed into a control tower. From the map he had memorized earlier, he knew the fire control center was now in ruins.

We're sitting ducks...

Sure enough, the turbolaser cannons stopped firing. The last of the VE fighters, miles above, went up in flames. A groups of ships came down, accelerating at a fantastic rate. 
  He picked up his electrobinoculars, and ,zooming, saw that they were TIE bombers, with escort vehicles. They joined the surviving bombers that had started the assault and methodically started to level the complex.

There was an explosion and then another. Judging by sound, Dante guessed that their vehicles had gone up in flames, along with a good portion of the basement.
So much for a counterattack...
Time to evacuate.

He stood up, grabbing his DC-17 Combat System and putting on his helmet as he did so. He heard blaster fire, E-11's by the sound, then screams and gurgles.

Thrawnist forces.

He moved as quietly as he could, staying in the shadows. A light flickered on and off, casting shadows over the wreckage. He passed a severed arm, still clad in its technicician's sleeve and clutching a blaster pistol. Dante simply passed it: he had seen worse, far worse, in his many careers.

For someone who was about to die, he felt oddly calm. He knew there were far worse things than dying. He had seen them happen. He had even done some of those things.

You knew this was coming, didn't you?

Yes.

Then why react? You're doomed anyway.

No.

No? Your base is in ruins, your squad is probably dead, and you are likely surrounded.

No. You are only dead when you admit it.

He saw a flashlight and ducked. A figure in white passed by.
"Are all the rebels dead?"
Rebels? Who are you calling a rebel?!
"You two, search for survivors."
"Yes, sir."

Dante heard footsteps as the majority of the Thrawnist squad moved away. He checked the power cell and waited for the sound of footsteps to fade, then emerged. The first trooper noticed him, and brought his weapon up.

"There's one. Set for kill"

Dante didn't wait for his partner to react. Instead he shot the clone in the chest. He fell bodily to the floor, a smoking crater blasted in his armour and his torso reduced to blackened slag.

The other Thrawnist turned, only to recieve a bolt to the head. His helmet, the front completely blown away, fell and cracked on the duracret floor.


Two down, the Force knows how many more to go. Time to join up with the rest of the squad.

This is suicide.
Dante was crawling through a ventilation duct, listening intently to the sound of booted feet marching through the ruined halls below. All too often the sound of marching would abruptly stop, to be replaced by the roar of several E-11's firing at once or a stun shot.

From his personal experience with Thrawnists, Dante knew which he would prefer. The true Empire had been accused, with some reason of torture, the New Republic simply executed prisoners, as they had doen in the Imperial Palace, but both paled before Thrawn and his methods.

Suddenly, Dante came across a gaping hole in the duct, too large to try to cross. As if to prove he was truly cursed, he heard voices distorted by static and clanging from boots. He froze for a moment, then sighed quietly.

Chaos take me...

Slowly and carefully, he reached for a frag grenade and froze as he knocked a small piece of slagged metal to the ground.

"What's that?"

Stang.

"You two, check it out. Report if you find anything."

This just keeps on getting better and better..

He quickly and quietly pulled the frag from his belt and held the detonation button down.

With luck I won't have to use it.

The two clones pushed their way through the debris, using their helmet lights to scan the area.

"I think I saw something move"

"Where?"

" The duct."
"Dante threw himself backwards, barely avoiding a red blaster bolt. In one fluid motion, he let go of the detonation button and threw the grenade. The stormtroopers were thrown off their feet, metal fragments penetrating their armour. Dante quickly jumped down to check if they were both dead.
One, covered in sticky crimson blood and missing his helmet, groaned and tried to raise his weapon arm but received a blaster bolt to the head before he could try to pull the trigger.

The ex-stormtrooper's helmet rolled towards Dante's feet. There was a crackle of static and a tinny voice echoed through the ruined hallway.
"TK-567, report. Repeat, TK-567 do you copy?"

Sithspawn.[i][/i]

Dante put on the trooper's helmet and hoped that he sounded at least something like the trooper.

"This is TK-567. Two hostiles located and neutralised. Rejoining main group."

"Roger that."

Dante severed the connection and sighed in relief. He put on his own helmet and tuned into the VE sequences. From what little traffic he could hear through jammers and the debris, he gathered that the squad was moving for extraction and that he was presumed dead.

He wasn't suprised, as if they had stayed they would have jeopardized the entire squad. Had he been in their position he would have done the same.

Time to rejoin them

Yush kneeled down behind the crates aiming his rifle he took out a cuple of the other soldiers. He turned to Darr-Rann.

"Sir this is getting us nowhere."

"Well Private if you think you can do better by all means." Replied Darr-Rann.

Yush kept fighting but he stopped to think for a while.

"Hey do any of you have a data pad and comlink"

Rogue gave him the comlink and Darr-Rann pasted him a data-pad.

"What is it for "Fingers." asked Moore

"Just give me a sec will ya"

Yush pulls a tool kit from his pack and then a Frag from his belt he uses a assembly tool and pries off the detonator face of the frag. The others keep blasting away. Yush then opens the data pad and crosses several wires. After a few minutes he sets the comlink's frequency so that it can react with the data pad and frag grenade.

"All right here goes."

Yush heaves the grenade and data-pad at the soldiers and detonates it. A large explosion is heard and shards of plastoid and flesh go everywhere.

"That was one hell of a blast kid got anything else in that brain of yours kid." Asked Darr-Rann.

"Well sir look over there across from use its a downed droid. If I can rig it with some frags and give it a new power source, say like the power cell from my side arm. We might be able to get rid of these guys in one blast."

"No it’s to risky." Protested Rogue.

"Just give me some cover I'm going"

The party fires at the soldiers buying Yush some times to rig the droid and with its deadly payload. It marches toward the opposition they fired on it causing it to explode killing most of them swiftly and painfully but a few remained injured and dying...

Darr-Rann sighed with relief. His entire squad (with the exception of patch) had been gathered. Now it was time to get the hell out of the building before they were completely overran by Thrawnists.

Soon after Dante found them, Darr-Rann decided to divide the squad up into fireteams. Due to the stragglers they had taken in, the squad’s ranks had flushed into a dozen strong, so three fire teams were created instead of the customary two. Fire team gold consisted of himself, Marka, Yush and Madine.  Fire team Silver was lead by Rogueboy, and included Namyr, LK, and Haul. Finally, Darr-Rann decided to place Joamer in charge of Fire Team Bronze, assigning to him Dante, Sylix, and Moore.

“Alright guys, time to go!”

Stub post, just wanted to assign fire teams and get us moving. Remember guys, we’re on basement floor 9 and want to move up. Let’s get writing!

"7B......." Whispered Leon.

The base trembled under the force of the explosions raining down from above. It was a living hell, a frozen one at that. The ground level was being lit up like no tomorrow, and Thrawn's forces didn't look like they'd let up any time soon. Any Vast Imperial Soldier who so much as stuck their head out of the base would be obliterated in a matter of seconds.

Leon ran a hand through his frost covered beard, tiny flakes of snow falling out as he did so. His dead, ice blue eye's examined the map that was tatooed onto the wall. Red lines leading to emergency exits, and the green lines making up the outline of the complex. The base was huge in terms of depth, and made for a perfect bombing shelter.

There was only one problem though..... The only way out was up, and if he went up, he knew his chances of survival would be slim to none. It also meant fighting against hundreds of soldiers, only to meet a very painful death when reaching the top. And if you did manage to survive, chances are you'd be captured in a matter of seconds. Getting captured was one thing that Leon didn't plan on doing either.

But for now he had to focus on his one and only objective.

Find Raiders.

It was a seemingly impossible task, but he would complete it somehow. Nothing would stop him, and if he survived the trial he went through on Tatooine, he could definetly do this. Only thing he needed now was a place to start.

What would Darr be doing.... Where would he be.....

The sound of approaching footsteps broke his train of thought. He turned to the left, facing the direction they were coming from. He slowly brought his rifle up, and started backing towards the end of the hall, ready to shoot and run. It wasn't his style to run, but from the looks of it, there were definetly more then 10 soldiers around that corner, and Leon wasn't planning on dying this early. Not after what he went through on Tatooine....

Leon shrugged the painful memory away, focusing on the task at hand. He focused in on the growing shadow's, bending and twisting in shape as they played along the walls. A foot stepped out from behind the wall, followed by a raised rifle, and half a head. The trooper took a shot at Leon, just barely missing him as he dived into the next hallway, swiftly rolling and landing on his feet.

He didn't bother turning around, by the time the enemy squad turned that corner, he'd be gone.... Off to find his old squad.

Leon quickly cut the corner, narrowly dodging a burst of crimson blaster bolts. He pumped his arms and legs as hard as he possibly could, hoping he could get an extra bust of speed and finally lose his pursuers. Just as the scrambling Leon was about to turn the next corner, a white clad Storm Trooper stepped right in front of him. Leon instinctively lowered his shoulder, ducking his head down for impact.

CLACK

The sound of Plasteel on Plasteel rang out through the hallways, and the hit big enough to make anyone cringe in disgust. The unsuspecting Thrawn Trooper didn’t have a chance…. Not at all. As soon as Leon lowered his shoulder, he made contact, drilling straight through the trooper’s chest and sending him flying into the wall behind. Shaken  from the hit, Leon continued to run, not bothering to see whether the trooper would get up or not. No…. He definitely wasn’t getting up after getting trucked like that.

I need a Turbo Lift damnit, where are they when you need one!

Like an answer to his prayers, Leon found the next best thing….. Stairs. He quickly cut inside the doorway, and hopped every flight of stairs. If he wasn’t careful, he’d sprain or break his ankle. Unfortunately time wasn’t on his side, so he’d just have to take that risk. Seconds later, he found himself standing in front of the entrance to level 8 B…. Or what was left of it.

Where the door way had been, a gaping hole now replaced it, the Durasteel twisted into razor sharp blackened edges. Beyond the doorway, lights flickered on and off, illuminating the darkness for brief seconds. A bright orange glow could be seen at the end of the corridor, but in between him and the end of the hall lay heaps of rubble and the occasional dead body.

Damn I wish I still had my helmet…. Night Vision would be really helpful right about now.

Leon slowly crept forward, his back slightly bent and his rifle at the ready. Every time the white light flickered, he made a mental note of where everything was, and looked for any sign of movement that might betray the enemies position. He quickened his pace, stepping over dead bodies and giant pieces of Durasteel, trying his best to keep his composure. The smell of burnt flesh was fresh in the air, something he had grown accustomed to. He was surprised at that, especially because it used to be one of the many things that disgusted him.

The orange glow was now growing brighter then ever, and Leon already had a hint on what it was…. Fire. He turned to the opposite corner, and slowly peeked his head around. He listened intently, and after a few seconds, he nodded his head.

The faint echo of blaster fire….. And hopefully it would be the Raiders.

The sound of blaster fire slowly grew louder as Leon made his way to the source. The occasional muffled explosion would sometimes put the fighting to a halt, but it would quickly regain its intensity as if not a single person had died. If there were troopers dying, hopefully it would be Thrawn’s and not the VE’s.

He quickly turned another corner, finding himself in another hallway with doors on each side. Knee’s bent, and rifle in firing position, Leon carefully made his way across the hallway, his senses on full alert. At the end of the hallway was another stairwell, and now shouts and screams of pain were becoming audible. Soldiers could be heard barking out orders, and the explosions of thermal detonators were even louder then before, sometimes shaking the interior of the complex.

Leon quickly made his way to the door, pressing the green access button next to it. With a hydraulic hiss, the door slid open, revealing another flight of stairs. Leon walked over to the railing and stuck his head out over it, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever it was that was fighting.

“Sir, we need to retreat, their going to over run us!” Shouted an unrecognizable voice.

“There’s nowhere else to go, we must make a stand here! If you want, run, but either way you’re not getting out of this hell hole alive!”

From the sound of it, Leon had finally found some allied troopers, the only bad part was that it wasn’t his squad. His hope of finding Raiders was slowly starting to diminish, the base was being flooded with Thrawn forces, and the Vast Imperial Trooper’s were starting to lose hope.

Leon made his way down the stairs, skipping two at a time, his attention focused on his feet. A movement ahead of him caught his attention, and he came face to face with an allied trooper, a look of horror written across his face. The allied trooper brought his rifle up to fire at Leon, but he was quick enough to react and jumped the soldier with cat like reflexes.

“I’m not Thrawn, and you shouldn’t be running away. There’s no where to go,” Leon said bleakly, making eye contact with the panic stricken trooper. “Now if you know what’s good for you, turn back around, and bring me to your commanding officer.” The trooper continued to stare at Leon, his bottom lip shaking with fear. Leon brought an armored hand up and back handed the trooper, leaving a nasty red mark on his face. “Snap out of it soldier, you were trained better then to react like this, take me to him now!”

Leon wasn’t playing games anymore, not that he was playing any before. The allied trooper brought Leon down another flight of stairs, landing them on floor 9B. Before him stood three soldiers, talking amongst themselves while a heated battle was taking place outside of the stairwell. The conversation they were having seemed to be that of utmost importance, but now wasn’t the time to come up with battle strategies. They needed to fight, and they needed to do it now.

“Sergeant Leon reporting for duty!” Shouted Leon, snapping off a crisp salute.

This seemed to get the three soldiers attention, each of them snapping off their own salutes as well.

The tallest of the three stepped forward. “At ease soldier, you and I happen to be the highest ranked individuals here.”

“Then with that being said, what the hell are you three doing in here? We need all the help we can possibly get. Its not time for battle strategies right now, so lets get the hell out there, and aid our troopers!”

All three of them nodded, turned to the exit of the stairwell, and jumped into the fray.

(OOC: Dante, what I'm thinking right now is that you guy's can somehow flank the opposing enemy we're fighting, especially since we're trying to find a way out. That way you guys can exit out of the stair well we're currently fighting by.)