“I’m surprised you all tagged along willingly so far,” Aeos mused as the trooper filed in through the door leading through to the ‘living’ area of the freighter.
“Well, I’m not planning to walk away with losing sight of my revenge,” Marka snapped back darkly while his fingers curled maliciously around the hilt of his dark weapon. The was a soft jolt vibrating through the ship interior as it detached itself from steady ground beneath of the small outcast hangar on Ilum.

“Neither are we planning to leave without an explanation,” Verkur interjected with supportive beams from Jinx and Zafo. Decembrist merely threw himself on the cheap couch that was squashed in.
“And if I don’t…-“
“We can make you talk wench,” Marka hissed taking an interrogative step towards. She flinched slightly, yet held her pose.
“Sit down, I was about to start with all the explanation crap, “she muttered brusquely gesturing the Jesters to have a seat. In her other limp hand, she clutched a remote control. She dimmed the lights out and lowered a moderately sized holo-screen from the durasteeled ceiling.

A moment later a very familiar face flicked online, beaming at the shell-shocked Jesters, save Aeos.
“Are you trying to turn us in?” Jinx asked completely blank and void of reaction.

Snipes bubbled in a deep chuckle.
“Relax troopers, Aeos hope your shoulder is fine,”
“Of course you doofus, back to the current story at hand,” She turned around to face the Jesters.
“Boys, what I am about to tell you will not be repeated to anyone else. The moment you step of this ship, you are still a rogue Imperial as far as the galaxy is concerned.  I am ordered to shoot the bastard who can’t comply, so can we agree on this?”
Blanks nods traveled her way, and her hand dropped from the DC-15.

“Snipes…you care to explain?” Aeos asked towards the ex-Wraith, -now Raiders Squad Leader. He nodded while he rapped a knuckle across the blue shadow already visible on his face so early in the morning.

“Jesters, you are our double agents, the Vast Empire’s ticket into one particular hut-syndicate, located deep in the hutt-space, you’ll find another Imperial there who has been under-cover for months,-“
“Who?” Zafo asked sharply.

“INTEL would not disclose information to anyone about that, I suspect that INTEL doesn’t know the details about me, and Jesters either, “

“Snipes, please continue, men are always so rude,” Aeos muttered rolling her eyes at Zafo.
“So yes, if the mission is successful you’re records will wiped clean obviously-“

“And the private that was executed?”
“Hired merc by me, he didn’t know he will die unfortunately,” Aeos answered Marka,
“Why us? Why Raiders? This is neither squad’s specialty,” Zafo sharply pointed out to the squad-leaders still half-in-doubt.
“The Prefect trusts the manner in which Aeos and I take care of squad business, Raiders and Jesters were chosen because Aeos and I know each other personally, which would be essential into succeeding this mission-“

“Getting a migraine Snipes?” Aeos asked coyly and smirking.
“No…why?” he asked slightly quizzed.
“You’re using big words, “she pointed out,
“Yeah, yeah, -shit, Riqimo-“the screen went blank before it dimmed to black.
For a moment, there was a second of shocked silence,
“I still don’t get why us, we are recon, not INTEL” Marka mumbled allowing his head to fall back onto the seat’ headrest.

Aeos bit her lip softly and smiled while closing her eyes.
“The Prefect…both Raiders and Jesters’ troopers have proven an insane amount of loyalty to me and Snipes, they needed squad who will follow their squad-leader blindly…the Prefect calculated the whole set-up so far based on the overall squad character…I didn’t think pulling this off was possible, though…I’m not disclosing anymore information till we’ve reached the planet-,”
There was a chorus of protests from the Jesters but Aeos held her hand up and gained their silence.

“I know only the most basic of the mission briefing, Snipes is sending me the rest of the info on encrypt. data, including the location of the planet, but please, make yourself home on the freighter, Jinx, I’ve packed some of those fruit-bars you like so much, and I’ve also managed to lay hands on several bags of old clothes, it’s in my bunker-room, and I need to check with the
controls quickly, going to make the jump in a few minutes,”

Aeos took a deep heave of breath and held it in. Would the squad react at all? And if so, how negative could it be?

“Oh, and we’re stopping on the way at another spaceport, we have another outcast joining our ranks,” 
Aeos muttered beaming in excitement which Vasili noticed all to sharply.

Strangely enough, Marka felt quite content, and even intrigued with the explanation Aeos had given. He’d almost convinced himself that no matter what she said, his newfound disdain for her would not dissipate, and yet in a few moments it had. Of course, he wasn’t entirely sure why Jester squad, who specialised in recon, were involved in a major infiltration operation, but Aeos had mentioned it was mostly to do with the unyielding loyalty that both squads showed to their leaders, and the personal connection between the two of them. Though it wasn’t a complaint on Marka’s behalf, simply curiosity.
  He found it refreshing that his contempt towards Aeos had fizzled away in a moment’s time. The anger itself still sat in the pit of his stomach, but it was undirected now, unfocused. Marka knew this to be a much more comfortable position to be in, as it not only allowed him to work happily with his squad leader, but it would also, when the time came, be concentrated appropriately, rather than spread between his enemies and Aeos.
  His attitude had changed towards her almost immediately after her explanation of the situation, though he wasn’t sure if she’d noticed. The way he held himself was more relaxed, and was no longer saturated with aggression.

The squad had just begun to move to Aeos’ bunker to fetch their clothes when she spoke again.

“Oh, and we’re stopping on the way at another spaceport, we have another outcast joining our ranks,” she mentioned, a grin breaking out on her face.

Marka shrugged and kept moving, heading into Aeos’ bunk room behind Jinx. There were three bags stacked up against the far wall; white and unassuming. They seemed rather filled, sleeves and shawls hanging from the openings. Marka and Jinx took a bag each, Verkur taking the third. The rest of the squad crowded around behind them.
  Marka took out a pair of loose-fitting black pants and examined them for a moment before deciding the leggings he was wearing would do fine. Pulling out the next black shirt he could find, he was content. He stood and shuffled away from the bag of clothes, not knowing who took his place. As he stepped out of Aeos’ bunk room into the empty room, Marka quickly slipped his current shirt off and dropped it onto a seat beside him, replacing it with the one he just grabbed. It was thick enough and allowed good flexibility, with long sleeves and a ragged hood that had been sewn onto the back.

Not armour... but it will do.

Marka picked up his blade and hoisted the strap over his head, adjusting it so the hilt of the sword was at his back, sitting just behind his right shoulder. It was his preferred position for the vibrosword as it allowed more manoeuvrability from side to side, and didn’t bash against his leg when he ran. Stretching his arms out, the Gunnery Sergeant lifted his right arm and wrenched the blade from its sheath, enjoying the scraping sound of the black steel edge and the metallic ring as it broke free. It was comfortable enough, he felt. So, with a practiced precision, Marka slid the blade back into its sheath and removed it, setting it down beneath his seat.

Once he’d sat, the idea of sleep became agonizingly pleasant, and slowly Marka’s eyes crept shut and unconsciousness took over. When he awoke, there was someone else on board.

Must be the one Aeos mentioned.

Marka didn’t recognise the man’s face, but that wasn’t a new feeling. He barely recognised anyone’s face these days, after his lengthy absence.

The wafting aroma of a burning Lungblaster caught Marka’s attention and alerted his senses. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, but he’d smelled worse. Much worse. But it couldn’t be the worst to come, Marka imagined, as the Raiders Squad Leader had mentioned their mission involved a Hutt.

He’d smelled them before, and wasn’t looking forward to close contact with another.

And once again she caused him to drop his cigarette. Eviscares immediately darted after his now Squadleader, trying to catch up with her before she could reach the ship and hide in its maze of hallways and vent shafts.
“STOP YOU LITTLE RAT!“, he yelled as he entered the ship, the sound echoing through the metal corridor. But she had beat him to it. There was no sign of Aeos in this hallway, which meant that she had somehow not only been a little bit faster than him but fast enough to turn a corner without him seeing her.
“So you want to play hide and seek, huh?“, he said to himself, smiling and lighting up another smoke.

The heavy combat boots he wore had been made for ship close combat, they weren't made for stealth, not even subtlety. Every slow step he took echoed through the whole ship. He knew that at every point Aeos would have a perfect idea where he was, but that was all part of the game. It also made it impossible for her to ignore that he was still after her. And psychological warfare could work wonders in confined quarters.

Artificial light from the hangar fell through the plassteel windows, dust danced in the oddly yellow light. It was odd, Evis could see the squad on the outside, getting ready for pickup, changing into even dirtier clothing, but he couldn't hear a sound besides the clanking sounds his boots made on the metal floor.

All of a sudden there was a sound creeping up on him. Fleeting steps, feet barely touching the metal grates that made out the floor in this heap. She was turning the game around, now she was hunting him, and most importantly, she wanted him to know that by now he was the prey. Instead of running, Evis froze in place, let his arms hang down and waited in the middle of the freighters mess hall.

The first attack came almost out of nowhere. He had somehow known that she was there, sizing him up. Then the knife zipped past him. It missed, not because he dodged, but because Aeos only wanted to announce her presence. Evis whirled around, looking for a target, and finally finding one. Aeos sat on the Mess' counter, her legs crossed and once again the playful wave and the cocky smile.

“You missin' somethin'?“, she asked grinning, holding up his trusted flask.

“Oh you are so on...“, he replied, trying to snarl but being utterly unable to do because he was laughing as well. Evis leapt forward and even though he hadn't plannned on hitting her, he hadn't thought of the ships still running gravity well. He had jumped off as hard as he would've under the planets own gravitational force. The diminished gravity inside the ship made this little leap a powerful pounce. Evis clashed into the female trooper, and for a split part of a split second they hung in the air as if gravitation had failed them. Then they toppled over, fell behind the Mess' counter, ashtrays, plastic mugs and a sabbac deck followed in their wake.

“Ouch...“, Aeos muttered, while rubbing the back of her head.
“Sorry...“, Evis replied lowly as he picked some sabbac cards out of  Aeos' face.

Then realization struck them. There they were, a girl and a guy lying on top of each other. Two troopers to make it even worse. There was a lingering tension , but only for brief moment.

“Aeos, Evis? You in here?“, a familiar voice asked. And in a split second Aeos and Evis stood upright behind the counter, Aeos' fixing her Hair hastily, Evis smiling at Verkun.

“Nothing to see here, Ver. Just a friendly fight between Squaddies“, Aeos said.

Verkun shook his head, obviously not believing what he had just been told.

“Whatever...“, he said, “Transport is here.“

The pounding of her cabin door woke abruptly woke Kami, who rolled free of her confining covers to land in a crouch at the side of her cot. Giving herself a bare moment to shake her disorientation, she groped around beneath her pillow, enclosing her fingers about the pistol concealed there. The banging sounded again, louder now as her visitor grew impatient. Sliding the safety off her Kylan-3, Kami came to her feet and slapped the access panel.

The door swished open, blinding her with the artificial light of the corridor beyond. Her vision cleared to reveal Lodur, clad in a fierce looking spiked armor that he donned for official appointments. The Zabrak grinned at her as Kami sighed, dropping her pistol to her side, “What is it?”

“We’re in,” The mercenary answered, his smile broadening, “Pasck still hasn’t shown his scaly face, so Worga’s thrown me a rather big bone.”

Kami’s sleepiness instantly vanished, “Ragnarok?”

He nodded, “Apparently it’s up and functioning. But Worga’s acting unusually paranoid, wants me to hire up all available ex soldier and military types in nearby systems to guard his slimy rear and his precious project for when the buyers arrive. Think Pasck’s betrayal hit a little closer to home that we thought.”

Kami arched an eyebrow, “So why are you here in the middle of the night pounding on my damn door?”

“Figure you know soldier types better than anyone else in this pit,” Lodur replied, “I’ve pulled a whole bunch of rabble in already and need some help signaling out the semi decent ones as they arrive.” He paused to wink, “Besides, I know you’re interested.”

“Of course I am,” Kami allowed herself to return his smile, “Give me two minutes.”

Lodur nodded as she stepped back inside her cabin to grab her things. Adrenaline coursed through her veins despite her lack of sleep, quickening her movements as she strapped her other pistol to her thigh. The politics of Da Soocha were shifting, and Lodur was suddenly the lieutenant calling the shots. The urgency of his assignment suggested that Worga’s auction was close, a sudden development considering his cautious approach until now. Something had stirred the Hutt to act, a nearby threat perhaps, or competition.

Whatever the cause, Kami silently gave thanks to the Hutt gods watching over the planet’s immoral population. After so many painstaking months of work, she was finally in a position to reap rewards.

Right now, the Jesters found themselves in a strange predicament. Trapped in ploy they had no choice but to fight or die at whomever’s hand has got to them the first. Including that of the Empire’s.
The ride down to the bottom of hell took less than the eternal ten minutes Aeos suffocated in as am case of claustrophobia hit her from behind.  The ‘valet’ who had collected them casually glanced at her. His eyes applauding the sight.

Inside Aeos revolted at the thought but forced herself to shoot a coy wink back at the grunt.

“I’ll see you at the Cantina?” he called out to her when the turbolift finally came to a stand-still, literally rock-bottom on the ocean floor.
“I’ll think about it,” she said coyly before she slipped through the doors to receive a full blast of fresh yet artificial air. It was wonderful, the fresh cool waves-

“Right people! Step-up to this line, we only accept the best and right now there’s too many of ya desperate we need,” a rough correlian accent shouted over their heads. Aeos spun around on her heel to face the robust man who spoke at them. He was easily the largest man in this room with a voice thick of smoking, drinking and shouting.
For the first time, Aeos noticed they weren’t the only freelancers in the room. There were a few more. A few too much to her taste as the air of an crowd started settling in frantic, excited whispers zipping through the countless men.
“Am I the only female here?” she asked through gritted teeth at Evis who decided to stick to her side for the time being. The majority of Jesters have anonymously decided to split away from one another to form less of group they have started to appear as.
“Seems like it, “he muttered back.

“If you lot will follow me,” the large man shouted out again while he pulled at the tuff of his red tangled beard.
“They’re not big on shaving, are they?”  Aeos thought out loudly while containing her disgust at the disorderly manner in which everyone was behaving themselves.  The collection of Worga hench wannabees followed one another through a set of blast doors, only to continue through another one, and another one- she started losing track of the small visual map she was trying to build.
The hallways and corridors were murky with smoke while ventilators loudly complained at the processing. Aeos assumed that Worga had a unique taste in dark blue as her eyes glided across the dark cobalt tiled floors and the matching ‘curtain’-like designed that currently draped across humongous viewing ports to the underground ocean and its splendor. Aeos brought her maundering thoughts back to the reality which waited upon them. Confused she followed the back of the stranger in front of her, as they descended a flight of steps that dipped into the floor and ended at a door.

A tremor went through the steps beneath her thick combat boots. Followed by another one in rapid seconds before it started forming rhythm to her thoughts.
“What is that?”
“A crowd,” Evis answered, recognizing the all-too-familiar sounds fitting the genre of backstreet crowds.
For a moment, the light blinded her as she stepped through a doorway casted in a bright spotlight.
“Welcome gentlemen…to Worga’s little square of entertainment, “an anonymous voice called booming through speakers hoisted neatly together facing opposite directions towards the crowd. Aeos failed to see beyond the bright spotlights that shone down on them from every angle possible. She could hear the cheers and grunts of the crowd, but failed to see them.
Square indeed, the arena filled the perfect requirements for a square. Aeos suspected the seated crowd was reality actually situated far above them.
“Now every once in a while, as you all know, Worga needs some fresh meat, and right now. We only need eight unfortunately, and I see twenty, have fun fighting it out boys, “

Aeos had to give it to whoever spoke. He sure had a manner in working the crowd to frenzy. Her fingers slenderly coiled around the loose lash-end of her whip. The blare of an alarm sounded into her ears. Evis was already grinning like mad poised into action with his choice of weaponry.
“Time for hell to break loose,” Aeos thought while the arena-filled, mercs and troopers jumped at one another.

Despite taking her time and going at a leisurely pace, Merrick had beaten Aeos and the others to Da Soocha. The arrival of such an expensive ship of course did not go unnoticed, and it wasn’t long after landing at a space port that some of the men who worked for the local “nobility” met her and invited her to see their rich boss. He hoped they could do some business. She had, of course, been checked up on as soon as her ship had come within range of the planet. She knew that for sure. She hoped her confidence in those who had invented her cover identity; a rich smuggler and merchant; wasn’t misplaced, or this invitation could turn out very badly for everyone involved.

---

“My Lord Worga, my I present Miss Jix Mak’era.”

Merrick bowed to the Hutt and glanced around the room. Complimenting the Hutt on his home and accepting the offered meal, she sat to chat idly with Worga. He expressed surprise that she was alone, having heard from his men that she had brought no armed escort to the planet.

She laughed lightly. “Surprised, my Lord? I thought it would be an insult to bring guards of my own to your planet. I have no reason to believe that I won’t be safe among business partners, do I? It’s obvious that your little army will be more than able to protect me.”

Having inflated his ego sufficiently, she made her excuses to leave. Before he let her go, he promised another invitation tomorrow. He was holding some kind of tournament and would like her to come along. There would be entertainment, food and the possibility of talking business. Of course he knew she couldn’t refuse, but he pretended the invitation was polite. He also offered her rooms within his palace, but she declined with the excuse of already having made reservations elsewhere. That at least was true, and the rooms were disgustingly befitting the persona she wore – ridiculously rich and comfortable. Perhaps this was better than the bogus holiday after all.

---

It didn’t matter than the room and bed were so comfortable, Merrick – as usual – slept lightly and little. She spent the next day documenting as much of the palace and surrounds as she could remember from yesterday’s trip to the ocean floor, and writing reports to beam back to home as soon as she had a safe location from which to do so. Shortly before it was time for dinner, a messenger arrived at her door – Worga’s promised invitation to the tournament in his hands.  She shed most of the weapons she was carrying, just in case they actually searched her today, and followed the thug to a different entrance to the underground facilities Worga called home.

---

Worga spent most of the evening eating and asking Merrick about her business exploits. Her painful politeness seemed to get on the nerves of one of the Hutt’s personal body guards, but Worga enjoyed her compliments and the readiness to tell him about herself. Finally the promised tournament was about to begin, and the large crowd that had gathered in the arena they now watched was getting rowdy and impatient. Soon a group of about 20 rough, but ragged, looking mercenaries were ushered through the doors into the bottom of the arena. She had somewhat expected it, and so Merrick was able to hide her feelings about the Jesters being among them. They were careful to make it look as if they didn’t know one another, and their very individual tastes in weapons ensured that it wasn’t obvious they’d been Imperial Stormtroopers.

Worga gloated about his novel method for choosing the toughest and best to guard him and his business interests. Merrick wasn’t surprised when he seemed pleased about her invitation to gamble on the outcome of the tournament. “So, they win the right to work for you?” Worga nodded, his eyes fixed on the arena. “You must be well regarded if they are willing to lose their lives to get a job with your men. My money is on the girl.” Merrick pointed at Aeos.

Worga chuckled and agreed to the bet, commenting that he doubted the girl would survive the first round. To his obvious pleasure, however, Aeos was only a second behind Verkur in disabling her first opponent. Seeing two of the weaker competitors go down seemed to fill the others with a renewed vigour. The next few kills weren’t so easy, but it was obvious that the former Jesters were going to come out on top. It was unfortunate that they would not be the only ones to get through and become Worga’s new troops, but Merrick trusted in their ability to make their colleagues disappear when the success of the mission required it.

Luckily enough, Marka was nowhere near any of his squad mates when the frenzied battle broke out. All at once, whatever thoughts any of them were harbouring were replaced with a desperate animosity. All of them wanted to survive, but only eight could. Luckily, that was just enough positions for the surreptitious members of Jester. All that mattered now was eliminating the competition; something Marka was all too delighted to be a part of. There was murder to be had.
  One merc, who’d been eyeing Marka since they’d all been gathered together, immediately sought after the Gunnery Sergeant when the fighting began. He carried a vibrosword as well and, by the way he held himself, looked as if he knew how to handle it.

The man challenged him with a blank, unwavering stare. His attempt at intimidation was met by Marka sliding his blade from its sheath, and pointing the tip at him. The merc approached, circling to the right as he moved. Ceremoniously, Marka mirrored the movement, and the two combatants stepped around each other, waiting for the first strike.

All around them the fighting raged on as the mercs and Jesters fought for the few positions available. Marka was completely confident in the ability of the rest of the squad to survive the onslaught, and instead turned his entire attention to his own fight.

The merc was the first to make a move, taking two lunging steps inwards at Marka and hacking downwards. The Jester stepped to the side and tipped his blade horizontally, hearing the clang of steel as the vibroswords clashed together. Seeing a slight opening, Marka twisted and brought his elbow across the merc’s cheek, causing him to stumble away. But he wasn’t finished. Neither of them were. Despite his enemy having some obvious skill, the Gunnery Sergeant knew that blatantly toying with his enemy a little would be sure to impress someone. But it would also be quite amusing...
  The next few attacks from the mercenary were rather precise and well formed, but were horridly predictable, and Marka shrugged them off, provoking his opponent into frustration; to make a mistake.

And he did. His temper obviously worn down to its foundations, the merc lumbered in and took a giant, heavy swing straight at Marka’s head. The blade shimmered through the air, and Marka ducked quickly, the merc being almost completely turned around by the weight of his own attack. And that was the opening. With a slight grin, Marka gripped the hilt of his vibroblade tightly with his right hand and a tuft of the merc’s hair with his left, wrenching the man’s head backwards. He could feel the grimy, sweaty oils from the hair between his fingers. Marka thrust his boot into the back of his enemy’s leg, and watched him fall to his knees. Disappointingly, the merc knew his time was up, and let his arms fall limp to his sides. He had given up and dropped his weapon, which angered Marka immensely. He despised any combatant who would willingly give his life without a fight, unless it was for some ultimately important reason. But this was not; this was simply a pathetic act of cowardice.

Deciding that toying with the man was no longer any fun, Marka shoved the man onto his hands and knees, stepped beside him and hammered his blade downwards across the merc’s back. The victim gave a brief grunt as the blade sunk in with a dull thud, and then fell entirely lifeless to the ground. One foot holding the body still, Marka yanked his vibrosword out, admiring the small flow of blood running from the tip.

There was much less fighting going on anymore, and when Marka turned to see what had unfolded, he was glad, but not surprised, to see all the Jesters still standing. There were still four mercs alive and fighting, with three others squirming on the ground. There were small pools of blood scattered across the ground, and a few long splash patterns across the walls where arteries had been broken open. It was a satisfying thought.

Marka kept his blade handy, but stood back and watched the rest of the fighting unfold.

Merrick smiled pleasantly as Worga handed over the credits for the bet they had shared. Aeos had survived the tournament, and was to join the small army that protected and served the Hutt. Merrick expressed her surprise at his pessimistic attitude toward the woman, considering that one of his lieutenants was also female. Worga regarded Kami briefly, before laughing to himself. To Merrick’s surprise, he pledged Kami and Aeos to be her escorts during her time on Da Soocha. There was no point in arguing, so she offered to pay Worga for the services of his troops. He laughed once more, declining the offer. Merrick grimaced. Now she owed him something.

Once the evening was over, Worga informed Kami of her new station. She acted suitably upset about the duty she considered beneath her status as one of his lieutenants, but didn’t argue. Bowing with an appropriate scowl on her face she turned and left the room to collect her new subordinate, Aeos. Merrick kept up the charade of the evening of entertainment and her gratitude to Worga for his hospitality, but she couldn’t believe how easy it was to get time with the two people she needed to see. It made her suspicious. How much did the disgusting lump really know?

Worga promised that they would talk business tomorrow, and wished Merrick a pleasant night. He summoned Kami again, and she appeared with Aeos in tow. The three women bowed to Worga and left through the door as directed by a servant. They came up in a different place again, adding to the mental map Merrick was making of the facility. It was too risky to talk, so they travelled in silence to Merrick’s room. Once they entered, she was pleased to realise both the others were still cautious. Merrick checked carefully for any newly installed devices that might give them away before lounging on the bed.

Kami finally let her surprise show. “Colonel, what the hell are YOU doing here?” This raised laughter from Aeos. Kami spoke again. “Not that I’m not happy to see you both. I just didn’t expect such... distinguished aid on this forsaken damn planet.”

Merrick shrugged as Aeos and Kami laughed together. “I have to get out from behind the desk somehow, and I wasn’t keen on the plan as it stood. So I changed it, I’m sure Fury will forgive me eventually.”

Kami wasn’t keen to return to the underground facility, but Aeos wanted to ensure that the other Jesters had been taken care of in her absence. Some had required minor medical attention after the tournament. Merrick shook her head and smiled. Most of the males tried to take care of Aeos, and she was the one that worried about them not being able to fend for themselves. Merrick bid them goodnight, and sat down to do some work.

The fighting and finally stopped, although there was till an air of carnage in the arena area.  Bodies littered the floor, blood, dirt all mingling together on the floors and walls of the large room.  There was a smell to the air but the remaining fighters, who Jinx had thankfully realized were all Jesters, were taken after being thanked by the Hutt lord for the entertainment the fight had provided him.

The Medical Bay was surprisingly well fitted with new or only slightly used equipment and the staff was well trained.  It seemed that the Hutt took care of his people or at least it must be better to try and keep them around rather then just replace them every time someone was injured.

The Jesters who were injured were in rather decent shape for the fight that had just ended.  This of course could be to the intensive combat training they had received.  The medical staff quickly patched them up, although Jinx's new battle wound still burned slightly and would more then likely scar.  The staff quickly ushered them out of the bay and an escort began walking them down to their new quarters.

Marka made a comment about how the girls would like him more now.  This caused the hallway to fill with laughter and Jinx couldn't help laughing as well.  This of course made his wound hurt as his cheek muscle raised up and he cringed again in pain.  Verkur said something else about Decem's fighting and the hall filled again with laughter.  Decem responded with a rather rude come back and the group erupted in fits of laughter.

They had quieted down by the time they arrived to their new sleeping area.  Verkur opened the door and the group entered, pausing suddenly as Evis was standing in a towel and a female was sitting on one of the bunks.  Jinx recognized his former squad leader when he was active with the Iron Horse Squad almost immediately.

The group filed in, some in a confused state, others just smiled.  He was pretty sure some of them would know her also just from being around for so long.  Jinx found a bunk and sat down, waiting for something to be said.

“Where’s the other bunch?”
Evis shrugged as Aeos plopped down next to him on the stool at the bar. In his hands he was twirling a glass of hot violet liquid.
“Big Bang sent the rest of the idiots out, aren’t you supposed to be stationed?” Evis asked as he leaned over to the glass and eyed it indecorously. He clearly has never seen the type of liquor, though Aeos couldn’t blame him. This planet was tucked far away from the usual round of planets the regular space traveler set foot on.

“Lady Mak’era convinced Big Bang that two escorts was overboard, so he sent me down here, Sharpe is off, thank Sith,-“
“You don’t like her?”
“It’s called friendly rivalry idiot,”

So far, both Aeos and Evis had been careful and both strived to fit in, both aware of the fact that they could be discovered any second should one word of their conversation slip.
“Anyhow, not sure whether Sharpe is still with Lady Mak’era, and you…how have this been treating you?”
Evis grumbled at her question while his brow furrowed.
“I start tonight with my first assignment tonight with two other bastards, Lodur doesn’t let rookies alone in the field, they’ve been showing me the ropes mostly,”
Aeos maintained a bored expression as Evis launched into a small explanation of his doings. Her hands kept fiddling with serviette supplied with his drink. He still hasn’t touched a drop of it.  Her Com-Link diverted both of the troopers away from the conversation.
“Hai! …….Yeah, sure….no….yes I know,…in five minutes?........right, be right there,” she disconnected her Com-Link.  She got off from her chair.
“Boss thingie called?”
“Yeah, got some work apparently,” Aeos muttered while she crumbled the serviette between her slender gloved fingers.
“Have fun!”
“Will do, “she muttered throwing the serviette at his face in a playful manner before turning on her heel and walking away. Evis grinned only and stared back at his own glass while casually pocketing the serviette.  He emptied glass, and ordered another one.

Merrick hadn’t expected to be invited back to Worga’s home again today, and so wasn’t dressed for the occasion when his messenger arrived to take her. Kami and Aeos were both notably absent, so she concealed as much weaponry as she could within the folds of her expensive clothing, leaving her common clothes and her shadowsuit underneath it all. She took her time, hoping to illicit an annoyed response from her escorts, but they were politely waiting when she stepped out of her room.

On their way down to the ocean floor, Merrick tried to casually chat about the reason for her visit today, but all the messenger would say was that it was to talk business. She maintained a calm stance and expression, despite the knot of tension growing in her gut. The trip in the life seemed longer than usual, and Merrick used it to make plans for if this meeting should go badly.

-----

She arrived in Worga’s throne room, bowing deeply to him and smiling pleasantly. She ignored Kami, standing at the Hutt’s side, talking to his pet Twi’lek. Worga greeted Merrick as usual, inviting her to take a seat by him and offering food and drink. Thanking him, she sat but declined the proffered alcoholic beverages and sweet, rich foods. The Hutt began rambling about one of his businesses that he hoped Merrick might have an interest in supporting, something minor and boring. She was about to make her preference in business deals clear when Kami stepped between them, bowing low to Worga.

“My lord, this woman who sits before you in the guise of a rich merchant is here to steal from you.” Worga’s men began to protest, the Twi’lek already making an apology for the Lieutenant’s behaviour. “She’s no merchant at all, but an Imperial spy digging for any dangerous activities within your empire.” She held up a datapad, upon which Merrick could see a censored version of her record with the army. She doubted that it contained her true rank or position. She’d stood up by now, ready to defend herself, first with words and then with the weapons she had concealed in her clothing. Kami continued, “As proof of my loyalty to my Lord Worga, please let me dispose of her for you.”

Worga nodded, seeming very pleased with the turn of events. Without a spoken order, men from around the shadowy edges of the room converged on Merrick. Worga’s Twi’lek male shouted quickly, “Keep her alive, my Lord wishess to ask many questionss!” Now Merrick’s hands flew to two blaster pistols, keeping her eyes on the guards closest to her. She killed two as they ran at her, heading for the shadows from which they’d advanced, hoping it would be dark enough to allow her shadowsuit to hide her. The other guards were too quick though, and she managed to kill too few before the main group caught up with her. Three men held her while another disarmed her, finding the other weapons she had hidden on her. They turned her to face Kami, who smiled wickedly.
“So easily captured, Imperial scum. Their standards must be dropping.”

Merrick smiled back, venom in her voice. “Well the standards were so low when they let you in, Sharpe. You will not live to gloat about this for long, trust me. Your death will be my pleasure, traitor. Sleep lightly now.”

Kami’s smile didn’t fade as she ordered the men holding Merrick to lock her up. Merrick spat at Kami’s feet as the men started to drag her away, causing one of them to strike her across the face. She glared at the man, promised herself silently that he would die first, and allowed herself to be led away. An unknown emotion had crossed Kami’s face very quickly before she had composed herself and returned to Worga’s side. Merrick could hear pieces of the conversation as she was taken down a dark hallway by four men. Kami had sent enough of them that Merrick wouldn’t attempt to escape just yet, too much potential for a serious injury when fighting four guards in an enclosed space. She hoped an opportunity would present itself later, and resigned herself to being an unwilling guest of Worga’s in the mean time.

Kami paced the breadth of her chamber, her mind racing as she contemplated the sudden arrival of her old squad. She’d had a brief moment to see most of them following the wind down from the arena spectacle, enough at least to warn her comrades of the imminent danger they now faced as Worga stepped up the process of securing his dominance in the local market. Ragnarok was too important for the Hutt lord to allow a neighboring rival to snatch it away, so Jester would ultimately find a blaster in their hands and mercenaries in their sights within the next twenty four hours or so.

She sighed, spinning about on her heel to pace back towards her refresher station. Lodur had been placed in charge of the new recruits, whilst Kami’s orders had noticeably become administrative, taking her further and further away from securing her objective. Worga, whether by a tip-off or a natural hunch had determined that she was not to be trusted, especially around initiates at such a critical time in his organization’s expansion. She had to step up and prove again that she was loyal only to the Big Bang or risk relegation back to the smuggling racket in which she entered Da Soocha. And there was currently only one person in the perfect position to become a scapegoat for Worga’s growing suspicions.

Closing her eyes briefly to compose herself, Kami turned and cast herself into the chair before her small computer console. She had only a few hours until Worga called his daily meeting within his throne room, barely enough to complete the level of file alteration that would be required for her latest stunt.

*        *        *        *        *        *

Merrick looked more irritated than worried as she was ushered into Worga’s presence, bowing low and declining refreshments as the Hutt rambled on about one of his latest business ventures into the spice market. Listening with only a half ear to the irritating banter of her master’s maitre de, the Twi’lek Kwi’teksa, Kami waited until there was a lapse in conversation before standing forward and bending in a show of complete submission, “My lord, apologies, but this woman who sits before you in the guise of a rich merchant is here to steal from you.”

Worga’s huge eyes widened as his men started at the revelation. Merrick, seated as she was at his side went dangerously still, her fingers curling inwards into fists.

Kami pushed on, raising her carefully adapted ‘evidence,’ a datapad displaying Merrick’s military record to the crowd, “She’s no merchant at all great one, but an Imperial spy digging for any dangerous activities within your empire.”

This time her statement was greeted by a cry of outrage from her master and a snarl from Kwi’teksa. Merrick swept to her feet, her expression suggesting that she was about to attempt to defend herself.

“As proof of my loyalty to my Lord Worga, please let me dispose of her for you.” Kami cut her off, signaling to the mercenaries she had placed about the room before Merrick’s arrival. The Colonel’s air of indifference dropped, replaced by a scowl as she found herself abruptly surrounded on all sides by advancing men. She moved incredibly quickly, her hands withdrawing from the folds of her robe with blaster pistols already firing. The first two of Kami’s men dropped without a chance to react, completely taken off guard. Merrick dove to her right, towards the relative safety of the shade beneath the pillars only to find herself locked in combat with another two mercenaries who swiftly disarmed her.

Realizing that she had forgotten to breathe throughout the spectacle, Kami pulled a dry mouthful of air into her lungs and forced a smile onto her face as Merrick was dumped unceremoniously at her feet, “So easily captured, Imperial scum. Standards must be dropping.”

Merrick smiled back, the expression on her face one usually reserved for enemies on the field, “Well the standards were so low when they let you in, Sharpe. You will not live to gloat about this for long, trust me. Your death will be my pleasure…traitor.”

Despite her loyalty, the intended barb stung, causing Kami to hesitate before gesturing for her men to take their newly acquired prisoner away.

“Sleep lightly now,” Merrick hissed, spitting in the dust before Kami’s feet before being dragged down an adjacent corridor and from view.

A quiet murmuring filled the chamber as Worga’s guests conversed amongst themselves, their voices rising with vicious delight as more of Worga’s personal guard dragged the corpses of their brethren away. Meanwhile, the Hutt lord had turned to Kami and was slowly nodding his giant head,

“Astute of you Sharpe, many rumors have come my way regarding suspected Imperial meddling.” Worga gestured impatiently to Kwi’teksa, who immediately shuffled to his side, “Ensure that Sharpe’s quarters are upgraded, and move them closer to my chamber. I will require her to be nearby over the next few weeks.”

Kwi groveled beneath his master’s bulk, pausing momentarily to bare his pointed teeth at Kami in a malicious gesture before clicking to his escort and sweeping from the throne room.

Passing off her precious datapad to one of Worga’s entourage, Kami resumed her place at Worga’s side, secretly pleased as the Hutt impatiently shoved away a servant to allow her to climb another step closer to his elaborate throne.

Marka and the rest of the Jesters had rushed into the Throne Room as quick as possible, given the congested hallways and chaotic nature of the time. But after shouldering and bludgeoning their way through the masses, they had arrived. Lodur, a rather large and threatening-looking Zabrak, was looking entirely frustrated. His shoulders were visibly tensed, and he could be heard growling orders from across the breadth of the Throne Room. Gnashing his teeth, he pushed a merc away into the wall.
 
Marka trotted up behind Jinx, followed by the rest of the squad. Aeos moved to the front and inclined hear head towards him as a sign of respect. Lodur took two quick steps towards them, his irritation radiating around him. But he kept his composure and returned Aeos’ nod.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Lodur began, “Pasck has scrambled every merc available. He wants the glory from this, and he’s being a damned fool about it! He thinks killing them is the best and only option.”

At that notion, a feeling of unease jolted between the members of the Jester squad. They were all very careful not to show it, and none of them were betrayed by their expressions, but there was a feeling that Marka could sense; a quiet and unsettling concern.

“I, on the other hand,” Lodur continued, “wish to see these intruders captured and brought in front of Big Bang. This is your job, you lot, and failing is not an option.”

The Zabrak then went into fine detail about the best way to cut off the imposing threat. He seemed knowledgeable and confident in his predictions, quite certain that the overwhelming presence of Pasck’s rabble would be enough to force their retreat. The air vents then became the crucial factor; they had no chance of being there in time should they move through the halls behind everyone else. But through the vents there were shortcuts.

Aeos nodded her head as Lodur gave her very specific directions that would land her and the Jesters right on top of their Imperial brothers and sisters. Marka half listened, knowing that it wouldn’t be detrimental if he missed the directions; Aeos would be up front. All he had to do was follow.

He felt an unsteadiness rise up in the pit of his stomach, faced with the possibility of happening upon the ruined and smoking remains of the Raiders. Timing was everything, and though they had the advantage of a clear and shorter route, the clock was already ticking, and they would still have to move it double time.

“You are to stun them only,” Lodur stated firmly, “and should you be questioned you are to tell them it was a direct order from myself. Now move!”

Barely needing another second, the Jesters shouldered their weapons and bolted after Aeos, their boots pounding hard into the ground, the sound lost in the frantic atmosphere.


*                          *                          *


Having turned a few corners and avoided the main driving force of the rampaging mercs, the Jesters came upon the entrance to the ventilation system. It was much larger than they had originally thought, which gave them the advantage of actually being able to run, though they would be considerably hunched over as they did so.

The great steel shaft rose from the floor on a diagonal, taking up the uppermost two-thirds of the wall. On the outer surface there was a maintenance grate, though it was soon wrenched out of place by Aeos. She ducked into the dark, and Marka followed, the rest of the squad joining them soon after.

The air was fresher in the vents, somehow fuller, denser. It was not uncomfortable in any way, and was a welcome change to the ever-stale air that they’d gotten used to in the halls of the facility. And so, with fresher breaths and cleaner lungs they set off at a considerable pace, their boots clunking and echoing around them. There could be only one speed, and Aeos was not going to make it easy for them. Though each time they came upon a grate in the vent, they made sure to skip over it; it wouldn’t do to be falling out of the vent halfway there.

As Marka ran, his rifle clipped to his belt, he tried to remember the faces of the Raiders he had served with.

Darr... Leon... Namyr... RB...

He remembered so few of them, but having to see their battered and defeated faces was something Marka did not want to go through. Though he couldn’t exactly recreate their faces in his mind, couldn’t place their voices, he remembered who they were and the things they had gone through as a squad. It was life-threatening situations that bound beings together the strongest; loyalty and compassion for those in the same position, equally faced with their own mortality. It was one’s job to watch out for them as it was theirs to watch out for you. A day of fighting could bring two people closer than a lifetime of conversation, for actions certainly did speak louder than words.

Although Marka told himself that there was little to worry about, being convinced of it was another matter entirely. Logically, they would make it on time, Raider squad would be stunned and captured, and the mission would carry on as intended. But past experience warned Marka to prepare himself; he knew that sometimes logic was overthrown when the universe had its path set. He knew that things could go wrong. There was a chance they could be late, there was a chance the intruders would be killed before they retreated, there was a chance they were already dead...

As best he could, Marka banished the thoughts from his mind and continued running. He wasn’t sure if his features had betrayed him as he darted through the blackness of the vents; though even if they had, no one would have been able to see it. But these were thoughts he would not express to anyone, ever. Thoughts and feelings originated inside one’s self, and Marka believed that was where they were meant to stay. So, keeping his impassiveness intact, he kept his eyes focused on the dense shadow that was Aeos’ back.


*                          *                          *


It was but a few minutes later that they had reached the target point, having seen and heard evidence of nearby combat. Of course, reaching the destination to find no Raiders instantaneously forced Marka’s pessimism to the surface, but the sound of shots being fired and boots pounding against steel reassured him that, for the time being, the Raiders were still alive. For how much longer, however, was left up to chance; something Marka was not happy about. He was utterly more comfortable when he was taking control of his life, of the way he could and would live or die. The wait-and-see approach was discomforting, but he had no choice.

There were three grates on the sides of the vent, facing into the hallway, giving the Jesters a decent idea of their surroundings. The approaching footsteps grew louder, as did the battle cries that followed.

“So that’s how they got in...” Verkur mumbled rather casually, fingering the newly acquired band across his bicep.

Marka followed his gaze to the curious section of the wall on the opposite wall, somewhat to the right. There seemed to be a section missing in the wall, as if it had been cut away and replaced by... something. He couldn’t quite tell what it was. Before he could question its origin, Namyr darted into sight, panting heavily. The Jesters tensed up, watching the rest of the squad come into sight, followed by a worn, wiry looking man. His was not a face Marka recognised, but the way he carried himself gave off an impression of experience. He moved like a soldier, and killed like one too. The Raiders took down the little resistance that had formed about that section of the hallway.

Verkur seemed to ready himself to burst out of the air vent, but a stern head shake from Aeos kept him still. And so the Jesters watched as three of the squad were being shuffled towards the anomalous section of the wall. Marka recognised all three of them, and was taken back by the fact that they had been ushered into what could only have been the sub they had arrived with. Darr-Rann, RB and Riqimo hopped in and left the Raiders to their fate.

The last time Marka had been around, Darr had been the Squad Leader of Raider squad, and RB the Assistant. And Riqimo had been the ARC Lead. Why would the three most experienced soldiers, to Marka’s knowledge, leave an almost helpless squad to their rapidly approaching doom?

The sub departed and the Raiders began their scavenging for ammunition and weapons; anything and everything that could be used. There was little to acquire, and within moments the wiry man yelled out for the squad to move. But it was much too late for that, as the rabble of mercs approached from both ends of the hallway.

“It’s now or never,” Aeos growled, dragging the grate inwards, firing off a few stun shots before hopping out. She dropped right next to the man who had called out; his long, dark brown hair matted with sweat.

Marka hopped out through the second grate after firing a few shots off himself, clearing up the rest of the squad. He landed a few steps from a rather sizeable Barabel who looked particularly bloodthirsty in his state of wavering consciousness. It had taken a few solid stun shots to bring it down, and though it growled a few times in protest, it was of no real danger anymore.

The rest of the Jesters had dropped out as well, basically forming a ring around the Raiders; assuring their safety. Luckily, the mercs would see this as their way of claiming the prize. A particularly furious-looking Devaronian came to an abrupt halt in front of Marka, a crude looking vibro-dagger in one hand, a small blaster pistol in the other. He was peering over Marka’s shoulder.

“They’re ours!” he growled, now staring directly into Marka’s eyes.

“We have orders,” the Gunnery Sergeant replied simply, refusing to be intimidated.

“So do we! Pasck sent us after these scum. Pasck is boss!”

Aeos stepped over and spoke up, “I am sure Worga would be displeased at your attitude. I think we’ll leave it to him to decide. If you don’t like it...” she paused for a moment and gestured to Marka, “then you can take your chances with him, or Worga. Either way, things dont look good for you.”

The merc seemed taken aback, apparently not used to being told he wasn’t allowed to do something. He stood around for a moment, unsure of what to do with himself, then retreated into the sea of mercs that had, by then, taken up the hallway.

Aeos picked a handful of mercs from the crowd and ordered them to bind and escort the prisoners to the detention centre. It was not long before the Raiders were up and moving as best they could, considering their worn and half-conscious state. Three mercs were required to keep the Barabel on his feet, as he was as close to unconsciousness as one could get.

Marka hoped that Lodur would be able to justify the capture as he said he would. If not, then the entire thing could have been a giant waste of time. But they were, for now, safe. And recognising this as a victory, Marka breathed deeply, the tension in his muscles and joints slowly washing away into nothing, the adrenaline evaporating. His energy went with it. He very much looked forward to a full-night’s rest, though he doubted he’d be able to have that particular pleasure for quite some time. The capture of the Raiders would probably mean an unbelievable increase in their workload.

This is home, now.