Marka stepped out on to the street outside his condo with a racing mind. Things had certainly changed since the mission on Da Soocha; the death of an immensely respected soldier, the reinstatement of Jester squad, the consequential uneasiness between them and the rest of the Vast Empire Army, and Marka’s new position. He’d been approached by the current Squad Leader of Raiders, his old squad, and offered the position of Assistant Squad Leader. It was an odd turn of events, but Marka accepted the position from the man known as Snipes. Though he’d grown to respect the members of Jester squad, some more than others, it was overall a relatively easy decision to make; after Da Soocha, the comfort of familiarity was needed, and Marka felt the most comfortable where he had started his life as a soldier.

He’d taken the time to personally say farewell to Aeos, who seemed to be emotionally wrecked with the death of Eviscares. It was a situation largely void of words; Aeos knew he was leaving, and they simply exchanged nods, gratitude and a friendly pat on the shoulder. And then they left each other to their business. Marka only hoped that Aeos would be able to pull herself together quickly.



*                          *                            *


After what seemed a surprisingly short shuttle trip, Marka had arrived at the Raiders barracks. There was apparently business to attend to already, judging from the summons he had received from Snipes. Simply put, it requested Marka’s immediate presence in his office. There was little else of any importance.

The new ASL rapped at the door to Snipes’ office, greeted by a hoarse voice beckoning him in. It was a rather dimly lit office, the blinds all closed with only the slightest rays of light creeping in between them. Snipes was sat at his desk, looking rather unenthused by the considerable clutter of files and datapads that had accumulated before him. There was a lamp hanging just above the desk, its beam focused on the area Snipes was working. Marka spotted an armour rack behind the Squad Leader, supporting what appeared to be Storm Commando armour.

There was a pungent aroma circling the room; some mix between cigarette smoke and the unmistakable smell of fine whiskey. It was rather overpowering at first, but it soon became bearable as Marka’s senses adjusted to the room. As his eyes focused, he spotted a few file cabinets, but not a lot else.

By then, Snipes had lifted his head, giving his new Assistant a once-over. He downed what was left of his glass of whiskey, crushed his cigarette beneath his foot, and stood.

“Marka,” Snipes began, his voice scratchy, “you’ve got your first job. Some dim-witted squad with brass balls has decided to give us a little challenge. Usually I’d ignore them,” he said, scratching his head absently, “but I think it’s time we settle this crap once and for all.”

Marka felt a surge of what he believed to be pride spread throughout him at the thought of being able to prove the Raiders’ worth to the snivelling ingrates. Though his curiosity spiked at the phrasing of your first job. His unsureness was corrected swiftly.

“I’m not coming with you. It’s only a sim,” he said, scrambling through some datapads on his desk. “Go get the guys, tell them to bring only themselves, and then head off to the sim rooms.”

Marka nodded and turned to leave, but got as far as the door before hearing Snipes’ voice again.

“Oh,” he began, a grin etching its way onto his face, “make sure they have no reason to doubt us anymore.”

At that, Marka strode from the office, and turned towards the barracks. As he moved, he watched the bustling life of the other squads in their training, the breaking and remoulding of new recruits and the everyday business of the non-combatants. Rushed men and women scurried to and fro, going about their lives as quickly as possible. It was all very rodent-like.

Just as long as none of them bump into me...

It wasn’t long before Marka had arrived at the barracks. Voices could be heard from inside; especially that of the Barabel, the unmistakable serpentine dialect sliding off his tongue. With a hiss, the door slid open, and each Raider turned their head in unison, cutting short whatever conversation or argument had been taking place. They were all stone-faced, except for Namyr, who flashed Marka a friendly grin. He appreciated having someone he already knew and respected in the squad. It would help immensely.

“Time to go,” Marka stated, looking over the squad, “come as you are. You won’t need weapons. Let’s move it.”

The squad hesitated for a moment, apparently untrusting of their new ASL, or perhaps wondering about the lack of weapons. Either way, they only began moving as Namyr took her first steps towards the door. Marka turned and left for the sim room, hearing footsteps and whispered words close behind him.

OOC:

Basically, this is just a filler story until Snipes gets back with the real mission. I'd like to see your posts show what your character is like, but try not to stretch out the events too much. Snipes isn't gone for much longer.

Basically, we're going into a sim mission with a random, big-headed squad who doubt our abilities after we failed to capture the Jesters. Think of the setting as somewhere between Endor and Dagobah in terms of scenery. And these guys will NOT be easy to kill. No wiping half of them out in one post. Have fun.

Voth walked silently at the end of the line of Troopers, his controlled and graceful movements shouting what he was to all who knew the signs: a predator. He was back on the hunt. Whatever they were doing in this sim room, it would be entertaining, and Voth needed to let off some steam. All the subtle looks and whispers that had been thrown his way, to all the Raiders, irked him to no end. He had had to maintain a very tight control on his anger, and that fact was making him grouchy.

Finally the squad reached the simulation room. Once there they were ushered into to a room filled with about a dozen large, rather comfy looking chairs. Large for a human, anyways. Voth still barely fit in the chairs, but he wasn’t too worried. He had endured worse.

As a tech came along and set up the VR gear, Voth had to note the difference between this place and his home. Although his Barab I had been in contact with the Galaxy for centuries now, technology such as this was virtually non-existent on his home world. The tech moved down the line, strapping each trooper in and hooking him up. Then he came to Voth.

As with most humans, the man seemed terrified of Voth. The large Barabel simply smiled and said, “Come now, I don’t bite,” overlaying his words with the heavy slurred accent of his people. Then he smiled. His words, combined with the large, toothy smile, had the desired effect: the technician looked like he was about to pass out. Silently Voth chuckled. Sometimes it was good to be scary.

His laughter dying off, Voth spoke again. “I’m sssorry, my friend. Pleassse, let usss get to the killing,” he said.

The technician, still shaking, proceeded to hook Voth up. As he did so, Voth had to fight the urge to break the human. It felt…wrong, somehow, to be hooked up to this machine. But he had little choice. Closing his mind to the discomfort, Voth sat absolutely still and in absolute silence throughout the entire process.

When the tech was done he left without a word, moving on to the next trooper. After a while, Voth was thinking about his home again when everything went black.

When Voth awoke, he was wearing extra-large swam trooper armor, and indeed he was in the middle of a swamp. Glancing around he saw his squad mates wearing much the same, but on a smaller scale. Silently Voth appraised his surroundings. The jungles here seemed to be very similar to those on Barab, where Voth had hunted as a child. With a hiss, he made a decision.

Voth started to strip his armor off. As he did so he couldn’t help but marvel at the technology again. He knew this wasn’t ‘happening’, but at the same time it felt so real. The Barabel shook his head, clearing his mind. It was time to kill.

Not waiting for the rest of his squad, Voth bounded off into the jungle. All he had was a pair of loose slacks, a tight shirt, his two large knives, his A280, and his comlink.

The predator was on the hunt.

Snipes stood back, out of the way, quietly observing the team preparing the squad for an rough round in the sims. He stood well out of their sight.  There were undercurrents here, Snipes wasn’t sure what they meant, but he knew they were there.  His squad wouldn’t realize it, but whether this was arranged or not it was time to teach the others their place. The top spot that everyone should know belongs to RAIDERS. Snipes cracked his knuckles and left. He trusted his squad not to screw up. 

He had his own business to be doing, he had told Marka that he wouldn’t be in the sims, and that was true; but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be defending RAIDERS honor. Snipes swaggered through the base, to the gym. Snipes sneered at the door, then opened it and went inside.

The door opened into a hallway, Snipes followed it to a set of stairs and took them to the roof. There was already a small group of people there. Snipes grunted. Too many people. Snipes didn’t trust it.

“Couldn’t handle it yourself.”

“Just here to make sure it’s fair.”

Snipes snorted, “So you couldn’t handle it yourself.”

The man was shorter than Snipes and wiry, his hair was close cropped, like regulations said it should be. He uniform was straight and unwrinkled, Snipes wasn’t even wearing one.  He was young, probably not even 20. Snipes didn’t know who had died and made him a squad leader, but whoever was needed a good beating. Snipes pulled off his vest, shirt and gun, tossed them to the side.

“Let’s go.” Snipes said, cracking his knuckles.

Snipes compatriot carefully removed the uniform jacket, folded it, and handed it to one of his friends. He wasn’t wearing a gun. He was showing off, feigning reverence for his uniform. Trying to mock Snipes for not wearing one. If it was the sort of think Snipes would care about he’d of worn one.

Dermon took the first swing, wide and high, towards the head, trying to finish it in one blow. Snipes moved his head slightly and it missed, his opponent off balance, Snipes had his choice of openings, he decided a short blow under the right arm before springing backwards, keeping Dermon from grappling with him.

Snipes opponent was quick though and he followed Snipes, and followed swinging. Snipes dodged the first two blows, high, towards his head and chest, he replied with a kick to the mans hip. It unbalanced him, but Snipes waited for him to regain his balanced. By now he had realized Snipes was toying with him and he was not pleased. He swung twice more, faster and sloppier than the others, but the second connected with Snipes mouth, his lip cut along his teeth. Now he was pissed.

Marka’s HUD blinked as a section of the foliage in front of him was highlighted, signalling the position of the single enemy. Tekyutsu had narrowly avoided being shot, but was now on the move, and the enemy began firing more frequently, apparently confused as to where to aim. By then, Marka and the rest of the Raiders had dropped low beneath the dewy plants and wide leaves. There wasn’t a huge amount of light to go by; the tree tops responsible for blocking out most of the sun’s luminosity. They were prone in the mud, with all sorts of insect life flittering and crawling over them. The air was visibly thick, everything having a slightly orange tinge to it.

Namyr nudged Marka on the shoulder, inclining her head off to her right. The land fell away into a steep slope, crowned by a line of spherical, moss-covered rocks. Assuming the rest of the opposing squad wasn’t about to spring an ambush from behind, it seemed the best place to mount any form of counter attack. After that was done, depending on enemy casualties (Marka did not plan on losing any Raiders this early on), that would allow them to maybe find Voth, wherever the hell he had gotten to.

Marka grunted in quiet frustration at the Barabel’s actions. Taking off on his own agenda was irresponsible, regardless of species of lifestyle. Not only was it recklessly endangering his own life, but also leaving the squad a man short. Though, despite it all, Marka agreed to forgive him should he make some considerable mission progress.

A few moments later, the members of Raider squad began crawling their way towards the covering stones, careful not to attract too much attention with their movements. Red blaster bolts were ripping through the air, sizzling leaves and branches, and any other organism unlucky enough to be caught. No one got hit, but Tekyutsu was running out of places to hide as a fiery clearing was being burned around him.

Just as the Raiders found the safety of the rocky slope edge, the enemy firing stopped altogether. It was unclear to anyone what had happened; the trooper may have run out of shots and was reloading, he may have left, or...

Voth’s gargantuan frame made an appearance seconds later, a splatter of deep crimson blood splashed across his midsection. A grin played across his reptilian features, apparently rather content with whatever he had just done to the trooper. What it was he did do, Marka wasn’t sure, but what it did mean that there was one less trooper in this simulation. As it was, it was enough for Voth’s temporary redemption.

Tekyutsu had trotted back to cover with the rest of the squad as Voth dipped his clawed hands in a nearby bog, washing the blood from them. Marka took that as a sign that there was no immediate danger nearby, and swiftly stepped out of the rock formation, making his way toward the Barabel.

Voth was fingering the edge of one of his knives, as if admiring its ability to rip through flesh; an admiration Marka knew only too well.

Sidling up to the Barabel, Marka spoke in a lowered voice, “You check with me if you want to run off. Understand?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, as it wasn’t really a question. He simply turned and rejoined the squad, Voth trampling through the foliage behind him. As the squad re-assembled, Marka turned back to Voth.

"What can you tell us?"

~the night before~

Two humans and a red Twi'lek sat in a corner booth of a busy bar.  Before them were full drinks and several empty glasses.  One of the humans a male was casually looking around the dance floor but made no move to join the moving bodies that were entwined with one another to the beat.  The other male was casually whispering something into the Twi'lek's ear, she let out a low chuckle and looked the other man the eyes.  The other male smiled roguishly himself and put his hand on her upper thigh.  the Twi'lek smiled softy before the two of them turned back to Marka naughty grins on their face.

"So you're seriously not upset that I took the ASL postition from under you?" Marka asked raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of his drink. 

"You kidding, no more three o'clock in the morning wake up calls to pick our dear SL up from whatever hooker and booze infested bar he's at.  No more paperwork, no more having the troops show up at my doorstep wanting to whine about their problem," Namyr laughed and stretched out her arms, she had a couple drinks and was feeling good, good enough to actually carry on a conversation.  "No thanks you can play babysitter, from now on I'm going to go and just shoot and slice bad guys up just like orders say I should."

"There's nothing wrong with paperwork," Rogueboy spoke up looking offended, "It's very, aw who am I kidding, it sucks."

"It's going to break their hearts, the troops, you acting so excited not to be ASL anymore.  They really like you, you know?" Marka added drinking his drink.

"I know, but they'll survive everyone always does with a switch of command," Namyr said pointing a finger at Marka, "Don’t' worry though the troops will warm up to you once you've either saved their asses or do something else to get their respect.  I'd offer to help with that but I think that it would only hinder you," she said taking a sip of her own drink.  "Look at Rogueboy, he wasn't respected by me until he proved himself, that and we shared some whiskey together on the mission.  It's all how your personality is, the troops see me as a hard ass with a motherly side.  What they'll see you as I don't know, but hopefully not motherly, that would just be plain weird."

"Gotta pee," Rogueboy murmured climbing over Namyr to get out of the booth.  He had started looking uncomfortable as soon as Namyr mentioned that she was more of a motherly figure to Raiders.

"What's with him, his face was white," Marka asked causing Namyr to shift in her seat and her cheeks turned dark purple.

"Well just a few things have been on my mind lately, you know that there's more things then the Corps, things that I want to do someday," Namyr looked up to see Marka looking at her with a blank expression.  Explaining this was going to be harder then she thought, "Marka, I'm getting older and while risking my life every mission is fun I want something more then this.  I want to settle down, have a kid, try the domestic life, or any life.  It's getting bad too, I mean I'm dreaming about it.  My nightmares about death have been replaced with dreams of babies and giggling children, my children.  I can practically feel their hugs and kisses, their love for me and these are just dreams."

Marka coughed in his drink, looking like he was trying hard not to laugh, "Have you told this to Rogueboy?"

Namyr's face darkened, "Twice, once right after we did it and we were laying next to each other, he fainted, or pretended to.  Then the next time we were out at dinner and he made a run for it taking the entire tablecloth and setting with him," she said dryly.

"He's pretty young I'm sure he'll come around," Marka said looking like he was trying to give some sort of advice.

"I-I don't think so, he stated from the beginning that he didn't want kids, something about he had seen them used in war and didn't want his own being forced into it as well.  At the time I thought it was okay, I mean the probability of a Twi'lek and human having a child is rare, but not impossible.  Now I'm not so sure I agree with him anymore," Namyr sighed into her drink, "But maybe he'll turn around," she added quietly before forcing a smile on her face as Rogueboy came back to the table.

"So another round Marka?" Rogueboy asked.

~Next Day~

    Staring, she hated it when people stared at her, particularly when she was looking straight at them with a threatening look on her face.  She had been surprised neither Snipes nor Marka had warned her about one of the new recruits was a Twi’lek.  It would have been nice to have the warning, at least have been prepared to see another of her kind in her squad wearing the Raiders uniform.  But why did he have to stare?  Was it because she was a woman in a high ranking position, well not for long, she was going to announce her stepping down once Marka arrived.  Or was it her tattoos that covered up her scars, or better yet was it how she over all looked, she was use to most men’s leering glances.  Namyr blinked a few times, of course, being with humans for the last year and made her almost forget how rare her red skin was.  A Lethan Twi’lek the rarest skin tone, and knowing how most Twi’leks were, this was probably the first time Tek had ever seen a Twi’lek with her skin hue.  Namyr’s lips turned into a deep frown and a line appeared on her forehead, was her calculating how much she was worth on the market.  One could never tell in days like these.  Namyr watched Tek for a few more minutes, his nervous behavior getting on her nerves.

    “Your Lekku twitch too much,” Namyr commented dryly to Tek with narrowed eyes as she walked over to him, “Tie them back until you learn to control them.  Last thing we need is someone to understand the movements and use your nervousness to their advantage,” she added with a slight hiss, “Listen I don’t need to worry in a mission about your well being so learn to control yourself or you’ll end up dead soon enough,” Namyr got up smoothing back her own Lekku which easily hung down her back in an unhindered manner.  Well time to break some hearts…

    “Gather it around, Raiders. I have an announcement, “ she announced after a quick call to Mark for him to make his appearance in a few minutes, “I wanted to be able to tell you boys and girls that I’m very proud of the work you did on Da Soocha. You took a situation that was completely FUBAR, and made it your own. You did Raiders proud. That being said, I wanted to personally let you know I was stepping down as your Assistant Squad Leader,” Namyr lifted a surprised eyebrow as the troops began throwing a hissy fit, she didn’t think that she was that popular with them, but none the less she held up and hand for quiet,  “I’m not leaving Raiders. This is my home, and the only way I’m leaving is in a box. I have not had my head or heart in leadership for a while now, and I don’t want my lack of focus to be a detriment to the squad. Your new ASL will be a former Raider named Marka. He’s a damn good Trooper and a better man. You can trust him as much as you trust me, and on that you have my word,” then as planned, Namyr and Marka had enjoyed planning the dramatic leaving of the old ASL and the dramatic entrance of their new ASL.  Her and Marka were sly like that, plus the squad seemed to respond well to such things.

    Namyr let out a small inward laugh and grinned at Marka who was trying not to smile and looked serious in front of the troopers.  She almost could see him as a teacher in front of young children.  Well if children ran around shooting at people and lugging deadly weapons.  At least she knew that Marka would fill her spot at ASL and do his job with pride, that’s the try of ASL the squad needed.

    “Time to go. Come as you are. You won’t need weapons. Let’s move it,” Marka said as his first command.  Namyr giving Marka a break on his first day led the troopers to the sims and they all stepped in side.  Twenty minutes later Namyr found herself walking through overgrown vegetation and trying to keep and eye on the new soldiers.  She probably didn’t need to they were trained to fight right?  As the Barabel ran off and returned with a bloody snout Namyr relaxed a little.  They had this in the bag, the Raiders were fighters and would come out of this simulation with flying colors.  That is unless the Barabel let the enemy follow him back to their position.  Gun fire cracked over the squad’s heads, most of the Raider’s dropped to the ground taking cover.  Tek on the other hand stood frozen staring into the jungle.

    “Damnit, get your ass down!” Namyr hissed pulling the Twi’lek down beside her.  Her eyes narrowed a little looking into the forest but the enemy, it seemed to be two or three were using the jungle for coverage as well.  Namyr let out an angry hiss, “Bastards,” she murmured before unhooking a grenade from her hip, pulling the ring and tossing it into the forest.  There was a scream and Namyr let out a grin of satisfaction.  “Barabel get back into position, don’t go running into the…damn,” Namyr growled standing up herself and going after Voth who seemed to want to take down the soldier’s in the woods.  Suddenly something rolled past Voth as he stopped behind a tree, an enemy grenade laid on the ground.  “Goddess, fuck,” Namyr managed to yell throwing herself on the grenade and the next thing she knew she was standing outside the simulation door.

    She let out a low snort of irritation, figures she’s be killed off by hasty moments of a new soldier.  Heading up the stairs she stripped down to her exercise clothing, a black tank top and black pants.  Maybe she could sneak into Snipes’ office and take off with some of his whiskey, it would drown out the sour taste of the simulator at least.  She was walking past the gym to get to Snipes’ office when she heard the sound of scuffling and someone being hit.  Great probably some recruits settling some scores with one another, she had better break up the fighting before someone came that would lead to them getting in trouble.  Namyr opened the door to the gym and stood back for a minute watching the people fighting.

    “Really Snipes?” she asked leaning against the door, “And shame on you kids, picking on an old drunk,” she chuckled grinning at the younger soldiers who were watching Snipes and the other soldier fight.  “Let me know when you need a break to grab a drink Snipes,” she added settling back and watching the fight.

X-ray followed Voth into the swampy underbrush.  The Barabel moved effortlessly through the foliage, Xander, not so much.  As difficult as it was, he managed to stay within a respectable distance.  Mostly what he saw were glimpses of Voth’s legs moving in and out of the vegetation.  He did notice that the rest of RAIDERS was not keeping up.  He pinged Voth’s comm unit, and waited for a reply.  Nothing happened.  He pinged it again, hoping that the big oaf had remembered to keep it on when he shed his armor. 

  “Yezz?” came a late reply.

  Raibaux perked up at the sound of Voth’s voice.  He quickly, and breathlessly replied, “Slow the hells down. We’re only human!”

  He heard a clearly frustrated sigh/growl, followed by an affirming grunt.  In a matter of moments he was crouched low next to the lizard-man.  The heat, humidity and terrain proved to be no issue to Voth, in fact, he looked better than he had in weeks.

  “You’re gonna catch hells for running off like that. So, whatta ya got?” Xander panted out his question.

  “I have their zcent.  They are very cloze.” He growled; a wild look in his eye.

  “OK, easy there big fella. We’re gonna go get’ em, but we need to do this in a somewhat professional manner.  How do you feel about an ambush?” he asked.

  The Barabel flashed a toothy and vicious grin.  Xander took that as a ‘yes’.  He knew a standard VE Stormtrooper squad had eight Troopers and a SL.  The best way to win any war, battle, or even skirmish was to divide and conquer.  They were two against a very close nine.  Where the rest of RAIDERS was he didn’t know. He hoped they were close, but time didn’t dictate waiting around to see. 

  “OK, how close are they?” he asked.

  Sniffing the wind, Voth answered, “Cloze. Maybee 200-300 meters.”

  Xan did some quick figuring. If he made a large enough ruckus they’d have to send someone to check it out. They wouldn’t send the whole squad, just to make sure they didn’t all get dinged in an ambush.  That being said, he knew he could count on at least two.  Two on two were good odds; two on him and Voth were great odds. 

  “Here’s the plan, I want you to wait till they’re within 50 yards, then give your best war cry and I’ll scream like I’ve been tagged.  Find some cover, and when they come over, kill.” He spat out the words in a rough torrent.

  Voth cocked his head and said,”That’z it?”

  Xander nodded and replied, “Yep, sometimes simple is best.  And do me a favor try to kill’em quick I don’t want to linger here when their buddies find out we got’em.”

  Voth nodded and paused as Xander removed his own armor. He stripped down to his body sock and grabbed his vibro.  This was going to be an up close, wet kill. He signaled his readiness to Voth who instantaneously loosed a bloodcurdling roar/scream.  He jumped back and screamed himself in genuine fright.  He’d never heard a Barabel war cry before, and hoped he never hear one from the receiving end again. Voth played the ambush to a tee. He not only did the war cry, but simultaneously crushed one of Xander’s arm guards and slapped the mud.  This had the effect of Trooper armor being torn open and a beating heart torn from the chest cavity. 

  Not wanting to be in the open when company arrived, X-ray dove for cover in the low fern-like plants around him.  He didn’t see where Voth made off to, but he knew he was close.  Now all they had to do was wait for the prey to take the bait. 

  They waited several heartbeats.  Xan thought that his plan had failed. It was a pretty simplistic plan at best, ludicrous at worst.  He was about to give up and move to intercept when he heard the close rustle of armor on plants.  He tensed up, coiling to strike.  The opposing Troopers cautiously moved into the small clearing.  There were two.  Xander smiled to himself.

Don’t often get that lucky

  The Troopers moved cautiously.  They were decent, but not RAIDERS.  If they had been they probably would’ve notice that Xander’s armor was empty BEFORE they walked up on it.  It wasn’t like he’d bothered to arrange it in a way that it looked occupied. Hells, it was in a big pile. 

  Oh, they need to die just for being stupid

  As if he’d heard his thoughts, Voth leapt from the bough of a nearby tree. His claws caught one of the Troopers in the shoulder joint. They dug deep and tore the limb from the rest of the body.  Shock set in immediately.  No scream or sound came from the man as Voth cracked his breast plate and tore out his still beating heart.  The now blood splattered Barabel turned to the other man who brought his E-11 to bear.  Xander took this moment to strike.  He shot up from the leafy cover and twisted the man’s head to the left while driving his vibro up and under his chin.  The Trooper jerked and fell like a sack of wet dura-crete. 

  Looking at Voth, Xander smiled grimly.  Killing a fellow Trooper gave him no joy, but it was kill or be killed and he’d grown used to breathing.  Their victory was short lived when several blaster bolts tore into the nearby trees.  Both troopers grabbed mud.  The firing was indiscriminate and heavy.  Xander belly crawled to his armor, and grabbed his rifle. 

  Voth had slithered nearby and had drawn his blades.  He still wanted to hunt.  The fire continued unabated.  Xander was readying himself for a standard Trooper attack.  He’d done his best to find cover using his discarded armor and some fallen trees as cover.  Voth had climbed a tree for better position.  Xander could just make out the sound of a voice coming from the direction of the shots, faint, but the unmistakable sound of authority.  The firing stopped.  He was momentarily confused by this, when Voth jumped down from the tree and confused him further. 

  “RAIDERZ.” He hissed as he bounded off in the opposite direction of the previous shots.

  Now alone and somewhat naked, Raibaux decided once again following the Barabel was a good idea.  He gathered up the remainder of his armor and headed in the same direction as Voth had earlier.  He’d run about 150 meters when he ran smack dab into his squad, and seven well aimed rifles.

  “Whoa, whoa, easy it’s me, X-ray!” shouted raising his hands in mock surrender. 

  The rest of RAIDERS slowly lowered their weapons.  Marka tuned from questioning Voth and moved to him. 

  “How many did you get?” he asked.

Xander quickly related the ambush and the two kills.  Marka grunted approval and moved to the middle of the squad.

“Good work, you two. Five of them, seven of us. When we move, stay low and keep your eyes open. Dante, on point. Voth, you take the tail. Move.” Marka barked as he strode off into the brush, and RAIDERS followed.

OOC:

1203 words

Voth followed silently behind the rest of the squad, his sense wide open to his surroundings. His sensitive nose and eyes were constantly scanning the forest for any sign of the hostile troopers; so far there was nothing. Voth was still covered in the blood of the two troopers he had killed, but his bloodlust was wearing off. He was beginning to think more and more clearly, and with the clear thought came the realization of just how idiotic he had been.

Moving along, giant clawed feet making little to no sound on the forest floor, Voth continued to watch the squads six. Suddenly he noticed Dante hold up a fist, and the entire squad came to a halt. Someone pointed out a blaster cartridge placed a little too randomly. Voth’s instincts were screaming “TRAP!”. Apparently, many of the squad had the same idea.

Not that Voth really cared. He would do whatever Marka told him too now that the bloodlust had wore off. So instead of joining the debate on what to do next, Voth simply stood and kept watch in the forest, sniffing the air and scanning the brush, along with keeping an ear out for any sounds out of the ordinary.

Voth didn’t have to stand guard long. Soon the squad was moving again, this time parallel to the hostile squad’s trail. Voth knew the theory behind this tactic: if the RAIDERS didn’t follow the exact trail, then there was less chance of being caught in a deadly ambush. Still, the risk was great, and although Voth wasn’t afraid, he WAS uneasy.

The squad had been sloshing through the mud for some time when Voth caught the scent. It was faint, and a ways away, but it was there. The giant Barabel stopped moving and stood still for a long moment, testing the air. X-Ray, the next trooper in line, noticed the Barabel’s strange behavior and stopped the rest of the squad.

As Marka approached, Voth spoke. “They are there,” Voth pointed off to his three o’clock. “There are at least three; I cannot tell more than that. They are...one to three hundred meters off. Their scent is weak; I would say they are up in the trees.”

Marka stared hard at Voth for a long moment, then gave a tight nod. With a quick nod, the squad gathered around. “Alright, here’s what were going to do. We are going to split into three fire teams and come in from three different angles. I want operational silence; knives and silenced weapons only. No blasters if at all possible. Lets take these gents out before they even realize we’re here.”

Several members of the squad gave a tight smile at that. This was what the RAIDERS did best.

Marka had paired Roth up with X-Ray. The two had seemed to work well together previously, and apparently that was enough of a reason. Still, Voth couldn't blame the sergeant; Barabel's weren't exactly the easiest species to work with, but X-Ray seemed to have no problem. In fact, Voth though he mighht even begin to like the human at the current rate things were going. Still, he was a human, and Voth's instincts told him that humans were weak. As a result, Voth felt little or no pitty on X-Ray when the man couldn't keep up with Voth's quick and sure strides through the jungle. How Voth managed to navigate the swamps and trees of the surface, not even the Barabel himself was sure off. Still, he could do it, almost without trying, and that made hunting in the terrain five times easier.

Voth had smelt the humans earlier from a ways away, and the team had broken up. Since X-Ray and Voth had split off from the rest of the Squad, the Barabel had neither seen nor heard any sign of the other squad. He could, however, smell them getting closer. They were indeed up in the trees, and alhtough Voth couldn't pinpoint which tree they were in at this distance, he would be able to once they got closer.

So intent was Voth on the scent of the hostile troopers in the trees that he failed to notice a sentry on the ground. Before the Barabel could react the trooper, dressed in white Stormtrooper armor smeared with mud for camoflage, stood up almost fifteen meters away and let out a giant cry. Even Voth was impressed with the human's cry. Even so, X-Ray's training kicked in. Voth's partner brought his E-11 up and hit the hostile square in the back twice, and once in the back of the head as he ran through the trees. Voth let out a quite hiss of approval, and X-Ray himself let out a tight grin. Still, they had blown their cover. The rest of the RAIDERS would not be happy.

All thoughts of secrecy gone now, Voth unslung his A280 and bounded off through the trees. This time he kept one eye at ground level and one eye on the trees. He found his first target in the trees, facing away, apparently drawing a bead on someone else, no doubt a RAIDER. With a feral hiss Voth brought his giant rifle to his shoulder, took quick aim, and depressed the trigger.

The A280 is a powerful weapon, and Voth's was modified to fit his massive size; the oversized slugs punched right through the stormtroopers armor, literally ripping the poor human to shreds. X-Ray clapped Voth on the back and took point again, his E-11 sweeping the path in front of him. Voth took a moment to sniff the air, then followed X-Ray off through the trees, Grins on both the trooper's faces.

Tek gave a nod and quickly made his way up a tree behind the targeted sniper, he had to stop half way up however. He had spotted several enemy in the surrounding trees, fortunately the thick foliage was more than enough cover to avoid detection of the other snipers in the trees.

He looked away from his enemy as the sounds of battle erupted behind him, and then looked back as Dante cursed, but acted without hesitation as he got the two click signal he had needed to act, and with a fluid motion leaned forward and slid his knife through the throat of the sniper, nodding with satisfaction as the man gurgled and fell to the ground, splashing only a meter away from Dante himself. Moving fast, Tek climbed a bit higher into the tree, and avoided detection, and watched as Dante easily wasted some idiot charging him.

Tek turned around, pulling his E-11 to bear on the nearest bogey, and quickly fired a couple of shots into his back. That man too dropped to the ground, a couple of enemies turned towards him, and started firing, fortunately Tek was more than halfway down, and he dropped to the ground, landing in a crouch, and joined the battle on the forest floor.

Dropping into the saturated ground, he followed his Squad mates through the turmoil, and didn't stand until the whole squad got back together.

Tek, in the middle of the squad, froze the second Marka did. Something didn't seem to fit with the environment. He immediately suspected another trap was about to fall down around them. He silently brought up his E-11, and kept an eye on the nearby trees. His HUD in his helmet picked up life signs, but they were too small to be enemy troopers.

He warily made a three sixty turn, trying to figure out where this feeling of threat came from, but was puzzled. He looked back towards Marka, waiting for him to direct the squad.

Having given his orders, and hoping beyond measure that they were the right ones to give, Marka crouched low and began slinking his way forward. Tekyutsu, a relatively quiet recruit and one of the few Twi’leks in the Army, was close behind. He hadn’t played much of a role in this mission, apparently preferring to stay behind the scenes and only do what was necessary. It was unfortunate, as he had some potential. But Marka wondered if it had been any different before he had joined them, if Tek had fallen back into a shell because of the unfamiliar leadership. It could have been either, and which he preferred was somewhat unclear.

But those were thoughts for a less crucial moment in time; a wandering mind now could be the difference between success and humiliation. So, steeling his senses, Marka continued forward, noticing the tiny blimps on his HUD that indicated life. Whether they were of the enemy or not couldn’t be known from this far out, but a thought that had been dwelling in the murky depths of his mind had surfaced once more.

There are too many of them to be a single squad...

The Raiders had taken down enough that there could only be perhaps one bogey left. And yet there still seemed to be at least four of them. It seemed that Drago squad had thought it necessary to ‘ensure victory’, the cheating scum that they were. They wouldn’t even face the Raiders in a fair fight, and still they were back-peddling for their lives and reputations.

Fuming at this recent revelation, Marka continued his silent creeping through the foliage. There was no movement in front of him, or to the sides, that he could see. No life forms showing up on his HUD save the odd bird. The insects moved in thick clouds, batting their wings furiously, jerking this way and that. A constant, droning buzz could be heard, but what creature produced it was not known. The boggy water, murky and deceptively deep, bubbled around them. Marka wondered if he was walking into a trap; though that was the point. He made sure he would lead the team heading straight, because it was the team most likely to walk directly into the enemy. Hopefully the flanking teams would eradicate any resistance before it proved fatal.

The sudden onslaught of responsibility was causing a dull, thumping headache; he was not used to thinking four or five steps ahead, and looking out for the safety of everyone in the squad. Previously, first and foremost was his own safety, as he trusted his leaders to ensure the safety of everyone else. But now it was all reversed. He couldn’t safely be the irresponsible, violence-oriented combatant that he had been before. He was unsure if he was happy about this or not. It seemed he was unsure about a lot of things these days.

Through the mist cut the sound of blaster fire. Off to the right, where Voth and X-Ray had gone, a short burst of luminal crimson bolts ripped through the treetops. They were in the trees. Marka stopped, holding up a closed fist. He had walked into a trap; but it seemed he hadn’t sprung it yet. To his left, a few feet away, was a festering pool of muddy swamp water, stretching far and wide forward. Each bank was lined with dark brown reeds, matted together with mud.

Marka carefully strafed across towards it, signalling for Tekyutsu to follow. He did so, and soon the two of them were waist deep, only a few steps in from the bank. The water was thick and put more pressure on them than they had thought. But slowly they made their way further into the deep, stopping only when their heads, arms and weapons were exposed. In the shadows of the trees, in the slowly failing light, they would be hard to spot.

Suddenly, off to the left this time, more fire could be heard. But these bolts were flying towards trees that had roots dipping into the river, only 30 metres or so from Marka’s position. The leaves and branches burned away, the bark crackling in the superheat. Billows of smoke pillared into the canopy. But no figures fell to the ground, no burnt corpses.





Greth grunted as a blaster bolt scraped past his arm, melting the armour on his elbow, burning the skin. His squad mate to his left, two trees over, was staring at the ASL, worried and expecting an order that would carry them to safety. But by now, Greth had almost run out of ideas. His squad’s inexperience, and almost religious following of the bastard Squad Leader, who wasn’t even present for the mission, had set them up for a defeat long before they’d taken their fist simulated steps.

Their position compromised, Greth signalled to his squad mate to head down the tree as quick as humanly possible. The lance corporal wrapped his legs as best he could around the trunk and slid down, dropping the last five feet. Greth followed him, rolling sideways as he hit the ground. The bank of a festering pool of sludge was only inches from him. He turned away from it, looking for his squad mate, not knowing that the two of them were the only ones left. He’d seen the shots into the trees away in the direction of the other two of his squad, but his view was obscured by the thick lines of trees, and hadn’t seen the smoking bodies fall to the swamp floor.

There were now few places left to go, if he decided to run away from the advancing squad, he would be spotted easily, as the ground took a steep incline. They’d be cut down in seconds. They could either head back the way they came, and risk running directly into the Raiders, or stay put, and hope for them to pass by. If they did pass by, they would be exposed. A sudden jolt of hope burst into his mind and heart. The mission could still be a success...





As Marka waded through the disgusting liquid, Tekyutsu in line behind him, the outline of a crouched figure could be seen through the reeds. Once more holding up a closed fist, Marka and his squad mate came to a halt. The ASL turned, pointed to Tekyutsu, and motioned for him to head up the bank, and sweep around the lone enemy. They nodded in unison, and Tek skulked up the bank, keeping low enough to be hidden by the foliage.

Marka continued down stream for a few metres, having unsheathed his vibrosword on his way. He’d discarded his blaster, feeling the familiar rush as he approached an unsuspecting victim. Whoever it was would be faced with a rude shock, and would wind up back in the sim room much quicker than they would have expected. As the enemy continued staring off into the dense swamp, his back turned, Marka slithered ever closer, soon within striking distance. Crawling silently up the bank behind him, Marka snatched the enemy by the neck and dragged him back into the water, all in one quick, fluid motion. As the man, or woman, struggled helplessly, Marka plunged his grotty, dirty blade deep into the small, soft gap beneath the back of the soldier’s helmet. The now-glistening tip of his blade re-emerged at the base of the throat, and a gurgling sound could be heard. The body went limp in Marka’s arms, and he left it to sink, scrambling up the bank.

There was someone else left, otherwise the simulation would have finished. Peering around, Marka caught a glimpse of Voth breaking furiously through the trees. Deciding that the Barabel was his best lead, the sergeant took off in the same direction.

Voth took a sharp turn to the left, causing Marka to stumble over a fallen log. As he got to his feet, a shrill cry broke out through the trees, cutting the thick mist like a knife, followed by a deep, guttural roar. Only a moment later, everything faded to black

Feeling rather groggy, Marka awoke in his team’s simulation room, surrounded by his comrades. Namyr was nowhere to be seen, but he’d not expected to see her. She would have had better things to do. Slowly but surely the rest of the Raiders stirred from their chairs, and were soon flooded by technicians, unhooking the various coloured wires, and removing the helmets. Marka was the first to stand, his muscles feeling weak from lack of use. It was a confusing feeling, as his body ached in the simulation, but now he felt as if he’d awoken from a deep and lengthy sleep.

X-Ray soon came to Marka’s side, speaking in a tired and croaky voice, “What ever happened to Snipes?”

Marka shrugged, and headed out the door. The squad followed behind, seemingly much more comfortable on the journey back to the barracks than they had been on the way from it. This one mission couldn’t have been enough to earn their total respect, Marka mused, but it had apparently done some measure of good.

OOC:

Story finished. Get ready for Phase II, people.