Spaceport Cantinas, they were all alike. If you had seen one you had seen 'em all. Where a normal Cantina often was enough to make any law abiding citizen back off in fear, all the defining traits such an establishment were ten times worse in those Cantinas found at spaceports. It was so moist that you almost needed an umbrella, smelled so bad that respirators were strongly advised but first and foremost the lights were so dim that you couldn't really recognize anyone. As if that hadn't been enough the guest sitting in a booth all by himself had taken care of not arousing any suspicion. He wore a coat that just screamed fake leather, a rather ugly hat and had a helmet lying on his table next to a cheap holoprojector which showed the sations docking area. From the trembling of his hand any all too interested patron would've judged that the figure was a pilot for hire who had had one drink more than was good for him.
Evis downed the rest of the cheap bourbon and sighed. He had paid a Slicer for getting him access to the landing bay camera system and redirected the feed to  small holoprojector that sat on the table. The last three hours he had spent gazing at the arriving and departing ships, on the one hand hoping that 'his' ship would finally come, on the other hand slightly concerned regarding the nature of his mysterious contact.
It wasn't an everyday occurence that a semi retired VE soldier got contacted by someone and got hired for a mission. He had put the best slicers, or at least the best he could afford, on the job but it turned out that there were military level security encryptions at work.
And then, from the depths of space she came, the „Squashy“, slowly maneuvering into the landing bay. Before the ship had finished docking Evis had grabbed his duffel bag and left the cantina. On his way to the bay while pushing through the usual crowd of spaces misfits he checked if his knifes sat right in place, almost running into a bulkhead.
„23“ had been painted onto the blastdoors once, by now only a vague idea of this number was still readable, as for most parts it had been 'redecorated' by some aspiring young artists, gangers marking their territory to be more precise. He took one deep breath, and then entered the codenumber he had been supplied into the doors maglock. With a surprising lack of mechanical noise the blastdoor opened and the Veteran entered.
„Hello Evis'“
Evis' jaw dropped, as did his Duffelbag and the Lungblaster he had been smoking. On the ramp leading up to the squashy stood Aeos, smiling and waving playfully. „Surprised to see me?“, she asked and Evis could only nod silently.
„You comin'?“, Aeos asked, now poorly containing the loads of enjoyment it caused her seeing the elder totally dumbstruck.
This broke the spell and Evis picked up his Duffelbag, stepped on the still burning Lungblaster and shrugged.
„Sure, I hadn't made plans for the week by now.“, he said grinning, following Aeos up the ramp into the Ship.

OOC:

http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Da_Soocha

The trooper found himself tackled as soon as he set foot on board, capitulated by Aeos who could barely contain her excitement.  Rolling his eyes, Evis pulled another lungblaster from his bag and sighed.
“You got a light, I ran out,” he only muttered. Aeos took a small step back.
“Uh…right, yeah,” Aeos mumbled as she started to compose herself and hastily stepped away.
“Missed me that much,”  he mumbled taking while grabbing the zippo she offered.
“Well, when you’re squad has been murderous to you,” she jerked a thumb towards the rest of the Jester who were lulling around,
“Then having someone back who’ hasn’t been nearly executed by you, kinda makes it refreshing,” Aeos muttered grinning.

*Two weeks later*
“Right, the minute you step off this ship, you are not Jesters, we musn’t give them any indication about having worked together before, despite being Imperials, so feel free to have bar brawls or some dark rivalry, I don’t care, prepare you’re self to make this you’re home for the next few weeks, months, till the end,”
Aeos was briefing them in the dim lights of the abandoned hangar bay. Outside it was storming with blustery winds scaring any civilians and pedestrians away from the outside the word.  Well the little land offered for this world seeing as Da Soocha’s primary terrain was murky waves rolling and brawling in tons of waters across each other in waves. 
“You may have noticed the gravity here is not of the nicest to hang around in, get used to,” Aeos continued while she tipped her dark sunglasses across her head to keep the loose bangs of curly spikes away from her face.
“We will be picked up in a few short hours by one Worga’s men, miraculously we have been secured easy access to his base,-“
“Where is it?” Verkup piped up, it was quite obvious the planet lacked the resources at hosting an fully organized syndicate successfully without it being discovered at some time or another.
“We’re going down below boys, now I’m off to secure some stuff, hang around, eat or sleep till the subbie comes to take us down, from there on we will meet with Worga, apparently there is another mole in the syndicate, if you recognize the person don’t announce it publically dammit,”

Aeos waved them off with a thoughtless hand while she stepped out of the small hangar to glance at the world they have set foot on.
“Care for a lungblaster?”
“You know I don’t smoke,”
Aeos turned around, grinning softly at Evis before she returned to her previous position and crossed her arms.
“A drink?” he quipped while a flask of whiskey was pulled from his weather worn jacket.
Aeos ignored the mischievous glint in his eyes and swiped the item,
“Hey! I offered, I didn’t give it to you!”  Evis exclaimed while struggling to keep his lungblaster between his teeth while talking.
Aeos grinned,
“Well, its mine now,”
Before she allowed him to recompose himself Aeos darted off to the ship, skipping with the flash in hand.

OOC:

Right people, feel free to write about getting picked up and taking down below the waters to the Hutt's underground base of operations, if you have some details you stumble across and you feel unsure about it, PM me, Im online right now, otherwise bug Snipes

The mission became ultimately more appealing to Marka at the mention of bar brawls and rivalry being almost encouraged; anything to throw off suspicion. He even let loose a quick grin of satisfaction as he played with the idea of being encouraged to be violent and aggressive towards anyone he felt deserved it. Of course, he knew it wouldn’t be a wonderful idea to make his presence hugely known; but to stir the pot and keep up his masquerade was certainly in order.

Aeos had mentioned making this planet their home for as long as it would take. Marka had no issue with this, as he’d never really felt drawn or connected with any place he’d ever been. He was drawn to people and their actions, not places. Though the decrepit and shady state of the hangar the squad were in brought back some brief glimpses of the childhood he’d left behind. But then, he’d never been a proper child. Between the death of his father and the abduction and execution of his mother, Marka had gone from age ten to thirteen. Every day since then he had spent as an adult; keeping himself alive, and trying to track down those responsible for the breaking of his life. Even as he remembered, there was still more to be done. There were still some that had to be brought to justice.
  Either way, making Da Soocha his home would be but a matter of becoming familiar with it; knowing its quirks, its subtleties, and its people. After that it would be ‘home’, if one could truly call it that. Ultimately, all that was important was the mission and its success.
 
After being told that the location of the Hutt’s base was ‘down below’, Marka mentally began preparing himself for another long period of time spent away from the sun and fresh air. After the mission on Strak and the extensive time spent twisting through the planet’s tunnel system, Marka had come to appreciate clean air in his lungs much more than he originally had. For many a year, air was simply there to keep him going, to make sure he was still fighting. Now it was something he held in high regard, finding some small measure of comfort each time he took a breath. But once more he was to be submerged and robbed of its reassuring presence. But it was no matter.

Orders are orders.

Marka cradled his vibrosword under his left arm, feeling the first stabs of hunger. It hit him that he’d not had any fulfilling morsel of food for some time, and when Jinx unloaded a small crate of foodstuffs, the entire squad seemed alarmingly energetic, including Marka.

Once everyone had taken some form of food, they set out to their own places, some in pairs, and some on their own. Naturally, Marka chose the familiarity of solitude. It was one of the constants of his life; there would always be isolation, just as there would always be violence, and as sure as these were, so would Marka thrive on them.
  He squashed the closed end of the metallic-looking plastic sachet, watching the yellowish mush of food almost ooze from the top. It did not look appetising in any way, especially as Marka had become quite used to the cuisines he had cooked for him back at his home on Tadath. But regardless, it was grub, and that was what his stomach called out for; yellow mush or otherwise. He brought a tiny blob of it to his mouth and tasted it tentatively, feeling its cool, gooey consistency on his lips and tongue. It was not repulsive. It would do. Not to say it was in the least bit pleasant tasting, but it would suffice; though the thought of living off it or something similar was not a charming one.
 
Back against the wall, Marka sat eating. His eyes roamed freely around the room, noting how awful the hangar he was in looked when weighed against the comparatively ostentatious hangars of the Vast Empire. Where on Tadath there would be floodlights and roaming, pleasant citizens, there on Da Soocha there were shattered neon bulbs and scurrying vermin. It was not without its character, of course. But its character was appalling on an aesthetic level. Nevertheless, Marka braced himself for more of the same for many days, and perhaps weeks or months to follow.

Taking another small mouthful, the Gunnery Sergeant rested his head back against the cold steel plating of the wall; the lack of life and warmth sending a chill quickly down Marka’s spine. It jetted out through his limbs and caused a very slight twitch. He’d only ever felt that type of comatose cold once before; confined and on his last strands of consciousness, restricted to the measurements of a freezing metal casket.

The memory brought a taste to his mouth that Marka was not fond of. It even washed out the overwhelmingly bitter taste of the foodstuff. He snarled quietly, shifting the attention of his mind to more desirable situations; swiping blades and sweat matted hair, combatants fighting for their lives, Marka bringing down his enemy with precision and fluidity. Violence. Pain and deserving punishment. The constants.

“Is this the lot of them?” grumbled a voice, sounding rather unenthused about his present situation.

Marka didn’t recognise it, and had been completely oblivious to those around him. No one was where he remembered them being.

How long have I been sitting here...?

The food was not a gourmet meal by any means but it satisfied his appetite.  He had only eaten a small amount but was actually rather full.  Either his stomach had shrunk from being locked up and on the run for a while now or the food in those damn little packets were made that way.  Jinx didn't really care either way.

Looking around at his fellow Jesters, not Jesters for now but simply ex-soldiers now, he had to remind himself again.  This group looked the part from the ground up.  They were dressed like commoners, but still had an air of military training about them.  The way they stood, looked around always checking the area without realizing it.  Jinx knew that even if they could no longer call them selves Jesters outright they would never forget who and what they were.

He chuckled slightly as he squeeze yet another small bite out of the packet.  It almost oozed out, looking like some type of industrial paste being extracted through a small tube on it's way to being packaged.  He laughed again as he looked at the packaging.

"Well here's to industrial paste" he said out loud and raised his packaged food up to everyone.

He received a few smirks and a stare from Aeos that turned into a smile.  "If you don't like the food you don't have to eat it you know."

"Hey I never said I'm not going to eat it, it's just that I miss those juice bars even more now that I have to eat this after them" he said and laughed out loud more to himself then to the others.

The atmosphere had lightened and everyone seemed at least somewhat content now.  Jinx sat down and leaned back against the cold metal wall and just tried to relax.  Many of the others did the same although a few either talked to someone or walked around impatiently.  Jinx caught a glimpse of Marka, he appeared deep in thought or had actually fallen asleep somehow.  Jinx was almost jealous about that and smiled to himself.

The relaxed mood was interrupted by a rough looking person that had entered the hangar and asked if this was everyone.  "Seems that we're missing" Jinx began saying from his spot on the floor.  "Never mind here they are" he quickly added as Verkur brought the two back.

The man asked again is this was everyone, He received a few nods and several short confirmations about the group.  With that he waved his hand and told them to follow him.  The group stood and did just that.  He lead them out of the hangar and through a bit of the area around where they had been spending their last couple of hours at.  this man obviously knew where he was headed as he kept walking and at a rather quick pace. 

He approached a building, opened the door and waited as they all entered and shut an locked it behind him.  This current situation made most of them rather hesitant and some ready to out right fight.  The man didn't pay any attention to any of this, instead he walked them into another room and opened another door.  This led to a hidden turbolift.  He motioned for all of them to climb in and once everyone was in, he shut the door and began punching a few buttons.  The lift lurched slightly and began it's decent.

Verkur stood in the lift, waiting for it to finally reach the bottom. He stood there in his dirty military boots, a loose fitting pair of black pants, a black shirt with short sleeves, and a grayish black cloth mask with an attached hood. Verkur felt at ease in his clothing, the mask and hood up, only showing his eyes, and his ryyk blades on his back, within easy reach.

After the short ride in the lift, Verkur waited for everyone to file out, and then exited himself. There was a small crowd of mercs, and the blended Jesters, standing in room. Verkur took no notice to it, he was concentrating more on the people in the large room. He scnnaed each one, easily picking out the Jesters when he came across them. Reaching behind his back he gripped his ryyk blades handles. A large man was speaking, but Verkur didnt care. As the crowd began to move, Verk loosed his grip on the blades and dropped his hands to his sides and followed.

With the protection from his hood, the lights in the arena had no effect on Verk's eyes. The crowd moved to the middle of the room, and began to give themselves some space. Verkur moved his left hand up to his right arm, feeling the area where he had been shot, and where there was now a nice big scar. A voice boomed over a loud speaker, but Verk only took heed of the last few words.

"...only need eight unfortunately, and I see twenty, have fun fighting it out boys."

Verkur's hands instantly went to his ryyk blades and unsheathed the deadly weapons. Verk looked around, making sure there were no Jesters near him, and then moved in for his first kill. The first merc he went after had no idea what was happening, and had no time to think about it. Verk brought his right blade up to the back of the mans neck, and severed his spine, killing him instantly. The neck merc was ready, and Verkur got into a little duel.

The duel lasted only a few seconds, as Verk dodged a few blaster shots he turned his left blade around so the point was out in front, he then slashed with his right blade at the creatures stomach, then with his left blade, forced the blade into the bottom of its chin, and up and out of the top of its skull. Verk pulled the blade from the dead creatures head and turned to watch the rest of the mercs and the Jesters fighting it out. They were all doing fine, the mercs no match for them. Verkur nodded and then charged into the fray.

There are times you just feel like fighting and then there are times that you are forced to fight.  This time fit into the latter category.  Jinx really didn't like the all out brawl aspect of things as he was more used to fighting alongside his fellow squad mates.  But he really didn't have a choice this time so he decided to make the best of it.

The alarm blared and things went form confusion to out right slaughter.  Jinx knew that the Jesters would hold their own but he also knew that the "others" would not go easily as they were fighting for their lives as well.  He saw right away Verkur take one down and Aeos and Evis jump into the fray but couldn't really see the others as they had all spread themselves out.

The first person to come at him was a scrawny human, dressed like a small time thug or something along those lines.  He attacked jinx, swinging a pipe that he must have picked up off the ground wildly.  Jinx stepped back, ducked at the first attempt and dodged to the side at the second.  The third connected to his side, he absorbed the brunt of it but grabbed onto his attacker's arm as well, using his momentum from the swing to slam him against the wall.  THe knew he didn't kill him but his caused the man to drop the pipe and Jinx brought his knee up into the man's midsection and punched him in the head as he bent over.  The man went down in a slump of a body and didn't get up.

He knew that he didn't kill him but he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.  He turned around, and had his head nearly taken off by another attacker, using a vibroblade this time.  He dodged it but was still caught across the cheek.  The cut burned but Jinx couldn't worry about it as the attacker's hand lashed out again with the blade.  This time it was in a stabbing motion. Jinx dodged it, barely, and attacked the now off balance man.  He raised his foot and brought it down sharply across the man's knee, it made a loud popping sound and the man dropped the blade and grabbed his knee.  He fell to the floor in pain and didn't see Jinx pick up the blade.  He finally looked up and his eyes opened wide as Jinx brought the vibroblade down into his chest and then across his neck.

Jinx stood up, adrenaline flowing from the past two fights and looked down on the man he had just killed with a vibroblade.  He had never killed someone in a fight like this nor this close.  His fights had almost always been at a distance and with a blaster.

But he knew that this was the way this fight would be, and the only way he was going to survive to stay alive and stay with his Jesters to continue their mission.

Kami followed on Lodur’s heels as the Zabrak stormed towards Worga’s private arena. Although one to never openly express his anger, the tightness of Lodur’s shoulders and the clenching of his jaw was testament to his fury at Worga for turning his latest assignment into a spectacle to impress visiting clients. The Zabrak had successfully managed to track down twenty or so recruits with Kami’s aid, and now a decent twelve were to be slaughtered on the arena floor.

The roar of Worga’s men grew louder, deafening Kami as she stormed in Lodur’s wake up the metallic stairs to the balcony on which Worga resided.  She knew that despite the Zabrak’s injured pride, he was incredibly curious as to which of the rabble he’d recruited would survive. Although personally repulsed by the concept of gladiator style tournaments, Kami had feigned interest and accompanied Lodur in an attempt to keep up appearances.

The floor beneath their feet widened, branching out onto an ornate platform which overlooked the dusty, circular room below. On either side of the balcony Worga’s cretins were jammed unceremoniously onto jagged steps cut from the rock, all leaning precariously forward as they sought to view the fight beneath them in greater detail. Worga himself was lying comfortably on a cushioned air sled, his tongue lolling out in a perverse display of pleasure as the violence unfolded before him. At his side a lavishly dressed woman lounged in an elaborate chair, boredom clear on her features.

Kami almost missed a step as the woman’s eyes flicked up to regard her and Lodur as they strode onto the balcony. Worga’s client was none other than Colonel Merrick Tel'sha of the Vast Empire Army, a long time friend and former squad leader of Kami’s before her defection to Da Soocha. Forcing herself to swallow her surprise, Kami kept her expression carefully neutral as she and Lodur swept a bow before their lord.

Worga waved a pudgy hand in their direction, his eyes never leaving the fight, “Stay and watch.”

Lodur nodded, directing Kami by her arm to the very edge of the balcony where they had an unobstructed view of the contest. The arena floor was already streaked with blood and corpses, testament to the minutes of combat the two lieutenants had missed. Twelve mercenaries remained standing, each clad in a variety of armor and bearing weapons covered with the gore of their downed foes. Kami’s heart lurched again as she recognized the nearest mercenary despite his unusual garments, it was Eviscares, another former squad mate and close companion.

She quickly identified Zafo and Jinx, who were engaged in a three way battle at Eviscares’ side. Tearing her gaze from her threatened friends, she caught a glimpse of short spiky blonde hair as a woman rolled free of an engagement towards the center of the arena. Aeos!

Kami curled her fingers into her fists in an effort to regain her calm disposition. It had been months since she had seen a friendly face, and suddenly she was surrounded by members of her former squad. Her breathing slowed, her shoulders slumping as she reclaimed the cocky, usual stance of a mercenary. Eventually, hopefully, she’d be able to make contact with the Jester’s, but until then she had to impassively watch at Lodur’s side.

“See you on the other side...”, Evis had hissed before he darted off towards the first enemy, his cybernetic arm raised to his face like a claw. From behind he could hear Aeos whip cracking, followed by cries of pain.
His Opponent was armed with a Vibroblade which he brought down in a wide arc, targeting Evis' neck. Normally he would've had no means of parrying the blow or dodging it, normally it should have brought his life to an end. Normally though, people didn't sport military grade cybernetics. Evis simply caught the blade and pulled forcefully, ripping the hilt out of the mans hand. The mercenary realized in trouble, but before he could back off Eviscares was upon him, smashing his head with the swords handle used as a club. The man collapsed, letting out a groan. Evis grabbed the sword with the left hand and allowed himself take a second of time to scan his surroundings.
All of Jester were in fierce fights, Aeos taking on two opponents by now, grazing each of them with her whip, leaving behind only superficial cuts, but therefore lots of them.

Once again he could feel the furor rising. The next merc he charged was in a fight with another worthless peon who couldn't really fight. Evis quickly ended both of them by impaling them on his new found blade, letting 'em drop with the sword still inside them.

Spinning around he saw the next goon charging towards him. With a smile he prepared to bring down this sucker down, and the next and the next and the next.
And then, it was over. As quickly as the carnage had begun it came to an end.
“Thank you, thank you... it seems like we have my new employees.”, the Hutts voice echoed through the arena. Evis let go what was left of the mercenaries head he had been banging against a wall for the last couple of seconds.

He looked around, reveled in the bloodbath, smiling madly. All Jesters had come out on top,  even though some like Evis had suffered minor injuries. But it seemed that there were no severe cases among them it seemed.

A Twi'lek entered the arena, his red colored skin marking him as one of Worgas most precious “assets”. As he opened his mouth a line of sharpened teeth became visible. Like most Twi'leks his grasp on Basic was quite poor, when he spoke it was with a certain hissing undertone so typical for his race:”Worga congratulatess you. You have earned a place among hiss rankss. Follow me.”

They had been led to a med bay where their wounds had been taking care of. Aeos somehow disappeared along the way, but Evis was pretty sure that she simply had been separated from then because she was the only female of the group. After the little intermission in the med bay they had been brought to the “residential” area, and assigned their bunks. Actually the accomodations were quite good, definitely above standard military Level. One of the first benefits of a waterworld Evis enjoyed at first was the luxury of being able to take a long shower. But he was in for another surprise, because when he stepped out of the shower, a towel around his waist, and into the main room of the bunk to get dressed, a visitor sat on his Bed. And this time Eviscares was beyond dropping anything.
“Kami?”, he said quietly, quickly grabbing his coat and throwing it over.

Verkur pushed his way through the door leading to the bunk room where they would all be sleeping. The first thing each trooper noticed, was a female sitting on an empty bunk, and Evis standing with a towel around his waste and his jacket on.

"Did we interupt something?" Marka asked with a smile.

"No, nothing at all." She said, standing from the bunk. "But I do have some things you should all hear, and take seriously. First, you should all try to stay away from eachother. Try not to act as the squad you were apart of. Second, don't die. Your no good to us dead. Now I must be leaving, I have some other business I need to attend to."

With that the female left the room with the Jesters to think on her advice. After a few seconds everyone began to move again, everyone looking for a bunk for there stay on Da Soocha. Verkur picked a bunk close to the door, and on the bottom. He hadnt been on the planet for a day, and lready he was being cautious, for if some kind of smoke weapon was used, he could roll off his bunk and under the smoke. Being close to the dor allowed him to cut down his enemies before they could get to his friends.

Verkur sat on his bunk and watched his friends move about the room and get themselve situated. Still sitting, Verk took one of his ryyk blades and slide it under his bed, the other he hid in a spot he could get to quickly. Once he was ready, he laid back, and fell asleep rather quickly, glad to be in a nice comfortable bed.

The next day was uneventfull. Everyone went and did their own thing. Verkur took his time though, to wander the halls of Worga's facility, at least the areas he was allowed in, and try and memorize the area just in case.

The next day the Twi'lek from the arena came for a visit.

"Hello. Worga would like to have you all properly equipped. Ssimple clothss will not suit you all all. Follow me, I will take you to an armory where you can better arm yoursselvess."

With that the Twi'lek left, the Jesters in tow. It took several minutes to reach the armory, but once there everyone was ready to go. The group began to file in, but not before the female from the other day took Evis off to the side. Verkur shruged it off as nothing, and moved into the armory.

It had been a full day since Worga’s Twi’lek minion had briefed the surviving combatants on their first mission; their first chance to prove loyalty to the Hutt’s cause. They’d been ushered into an armoury and had chosen their equipment from the rather varied collection of items on show. Marka imagined years of uprising and marauding had been the foremost contributor to the armoury. Bits and pieces of just about everything could be found scattered across various tables and benches, and in cupboards. There were even masses of discarded things stacked in the corners and against walls.
 

*                    *                    *


Each trooper had acquired some measure of protection, both of armour and weapons; Marka picked up some form of light reinforced fibre armour. After trying it on, he was pleased at the generous amount of movement it allowed, whilst still offering decent protection. It was dark grey and unassuming, but this was the underworld, a haven of crime and death; vibrant colours would be entirely uncharacteristic.
  Though he already had his vibrosword, his weapon of choice, Marka swiped up one of the few decent blaster pistols on offer; a DT-57 “annihilator”. It was worn, and had no doubt seen a lot of use, but it had the look of reliability about it.

The Twi’lek, who hadn’t bothered to introduce himself, briefed them collectively once all were satisfied with their equipment. Just as he started to talk, Marka noticed that Evis was not among them anymore, and wondered what he was up to. But his attention snapped back quickly as serpent-like words filled the air.

“The massster Worga,” the Twi’lek began, “hasss a mission for you. The massster hasss worked hard to gain such a respected standing, but he isss not without hisss enemiesss. A rival Hutt, the scum known asss Zoza, is trying to... how do you say... usurp my massster’s position.”

He paused for a moment, taking note of the emotionless faces staring at him. Marka subconsciously thumbed the hilt of his vibrosword, as was his custom when his mind was either entirely focused, or not focused at all. Luckily, at that time, it was the former.

The Twi’lek continued, “You will be joining some of our more experienced membersss as you go topside, to the main city above the water. Zoza’s main base of operations is there, and that is where you shall be going. You will do some... general redecorating. Of course, should you meet with any resssistance, feel free to... take care of them. Your safety firssst, of courssse.”

He grinned a sharp grin, eyes lighting up.

“Tomorrow you will be awoken early, and then you will begin. Any questions?” he asked.

Nobody made a sound; it all seemed relatively clear. March in, wreck the place, kill any in the way. Marka’s absolute definition of fun.


*                    *                    *


It was not long into the new day when the Jesters were awoken by the other mercs. There were six or seven of them, from Marka could see. Most of them looked fairly experienced and battle-hardened, save two of them, who looked unnaturally nervous, even this early in the morning. They seemed like the type of soldier who did nothing but worry, the pessimistic new recruits who caused the death of their allies. If that was the case, the entire operation, though basically simple in its planning, could go horribly wrong because of them. Things could always go wrong, and if anyone was going to cause it, it would be those two. Marka silently vowed to make sure they got in the way of a few blaster shots, be they from the enemy or his own blaster.

After scrambling together their things and suiting up, the Jesters sauntered out the door after the mercs. Marka hadn’t found a helmet for his armour, so chose instead not to wear one. Then again, he had always preferred being able to look his opponent in the eye before he took them down. It was something he’d not been able to do on a lot of occasions.

Few words were exchanged between any of them on the way to the turbolift; the most important part of the Jester’s mission was to avoid suspicion and make sure nobody knew the truth. Secrecy was the key; something Marka was not entirely fond of. But as long as there was some form of unrestricted bloodshed, he was content.
  The rabble of mercs and Jesters filed into the turbolift, all squeezing in, leaving little room to move or breathe. With a violent jerk, the lift rocked into motion and their ascent began.