Drac checked his position the moment they exited hyperspace. He didn't want a repeat of his early reversion when Slasher's ship failed. Satisfied that he was in position, he listened as Driver issued his orders, then watched as the rest of One flight and all of Two flight swept forward toward the planet. Part of him wished he was with them, but he knew he had to stay with the yacht.

Finding local space to be clear, the small fleet made their approach and soon landed on the planet. Drac settled his Avenger down near the Gugol, still in formation with it, and ran a fast post-flight check. Landing without the usual docking equipment was a challenge he'd only ever tried in a simulator, but he landed in good order (if a little hard). And it was a definite improvement on the results of that simulator run, which he preffered not to discuss with others. Satisfied that his ship was in expected condition, he powered down and exited the craft. As soon as his boots touched pavement he was moving toward the Gugol and mentally reviewing the next part of his job. It was his responsibility to ensure this went off without a hitch.

As Drac stepped through the hatch and onto the Gugol he was pleased to see Thedrish and Catachan following him on board. He passed Slasher as the other pilot exited to join his flight. As they met the Mon Cal paused and spoke to the flight leader, "Let me know when everyone's ready outside the yacht, would you Nine?"

"No problem, Two." They passed each other and Drac entered the yacht. It took about ten minutes for One Flight to change into their dress uniforms. Drac had donned his in record time, and was still settling his blaster into its holster as he made his way forward to join the passengers. Having done that, he double checked the ribbons he'd earned to ensure they were in position. Fingering the one representing the Star of the Academy medal, he remembered the attention to detail that had won it for him. That was what it would take to make sure this went off as well. He nodded to G'schlecc as he entered the room, then mentally reviewed the procedure yet again. By the time he had finished the rest of One Flight was assembled, looking slightly uncomfortable in their dress uniforms. In the mean time Driver and StOrMz had started discussing some details of the coming days.

Clearing his throat for attention, the Mon Cal pilot began organizing the group's disembarkment, introducing himself to Yulia first, "Hello, ma'am. I am Senior Crewman Drac, the Ensign's wingman. I'll be trying to make this as smooth and easy for you both as possible."

"Thank you, Senior Crewman. I am Yulia Acola, G'schlecc's...close friend."

Nodding, the Mon Cal continued, "I am sorry for your loss as well. It cannot be easy going through this with him. Remember though, even the worst of storms may uncover hidden treasures." Stepping back again, he reorganized his thoughts, then continued:

"Okay, everyone. Here's the order we'll exit the Gugol in: Thedrish, you will exit first. As you step out of the hatch, survey the area for any potential threats. I know we've got another dozen pilots out there, but its still important to do so. Once you've done that, continue down the ramp and head over to Driver's transportation. Open its door when you get to it. Catachan, you'll be next. Step through the hatch, then move to your left and turn so your right side is facing the yacht. I'll be following you and moving to the right to face you. As soon as I'm in position we will both salute and hold our poses.

"Once we get to that point it's your turn, Ensign StOrMz. You'll exit the ship and head toward the transport at a measured pace. Yulia, you will follow the Ensign a few steps behind him. Ensign G'schlecc will exit last, following Yulia. Once you pass Catachan and I, we will drop our salutes and fall in behind you. I'll follow directly behind, with Catachan behind me. As we approach the honor guard we will shut the hatch behind us. Ensign G'schlecc and company will pass between the honor guard, while we stop at the first pair. Once they reach the transport, Thedrish will assist them in boarding it. When the door shuts we fall out and the XO takes over. And remember, this ship is the only secure environment we can claim, so don't let your guard down. Any questions?"

There were none, so Drac walked over to the hatch and looked outside. Everyone appeared to be in position and Slasher nodded at him to proceed. Stepping back, he signaled Thedrish. The process went off without a hitch, everyone disembarking in good order. In just a minute or so Driver and company were in their transportation and the squadron was falling out. As Drac approached his fighter to do his final lockdown on it he hoped he'd done a good job of it. It had felt good though and Driver was safely in the transportation, which was the entire point. The whole thing could have gone horribly and the Mon Cal would have been happy so long as the job got done.

OOC:

Just under 900 words...

The last portion of the flight to Ator was done in silence.  G had gone from catatonic with grief to fighting for his life in an unarmed yacht.  His lads had performed flawlessly, although he knew that Slasher would beat himself up for losing his TIE. 

Better the ship than the man

  They dropped out of hyperspace moments before entering the Ator system.  The planet gleamed like a miniature version of Coruscant.  The vast ecumenopolis that was the city-planet of Ator stretched out beneath them.  He was of this world, yet had only set foot here a half dozen times in his life. The old Imperial Center was his birthplace and more of his home than this ancestral seat had been.  Yet, here he was, come to lay his father to rest. 

  His father had left here shortly after his marriage to his mother.  The legend of the row between Huur Atrasin and the Old Baronet Geordi had been legendary in the nursery.  Huur would take his voice up a full octave to mimic the elder Atrasin’s bellow when told of his firstborn’s marriage to a mere actress.

  Grandfather had been right.  Jahree Atrasin did not take to motherhood well.  Two children and less than ten years after their elopement she had vanished.  Huur had hired some of the best investigators in the Empire to find her, but she might have well never existed.

  Huur withdrew from the world after that.  He threw himself into his work at the Corusca Bank and rose quickly.  He reconciled with his father and the two of them used their combined fortunes to take the bank to the heights of the Imperial financial world.  Palpatine himself had graced the family with more than one audience.  The Atrasins had helped finance many of His Majesties ventures, and were rewarded many times over.

  While amassing great wealth and obtaining power, Huur neglected his children.  G’shlecc and Bedav grew up with a procession of nannies and caregivers.  They were enrolled in the finest schools Imperial Credits could buy and groomed to succeed Huur when their time came.

  However, as seemed to be in the Atrasin family, willfulness was genetic.  G withdrew from the financial programs he’d been in all his academic life and instead chose engineering.  Bedav, the ever loyal younger son, picked up from where Driver had left off and became the financial genius of the family.  He too, chose to fail Huur in only one aspect; he eschewed the bank and worked his way up the ranks at Coruscant Power.

  Now, as G set the Gugol down, he knew he’d see his brother again, and his father for the final time.  He left the final ships shutdown to Stormz and wearily moved to his quarters.  Yulia was waiting for him as he entered, with his semi-dress uniform ready for him to slip into.  She softly kissed him on the cheek and moved gracefully out of the room leaving him to change.  Driver could hear her speaking to Drac as he suited up.  The new pilot was laying out the transfer procedure for her.  All G could think about was what was to come.

  The movement from the landing pad to the Governor’s Hall went off smoothly and quickly.  He watched with jaded pride as his boys did their jobs fluidly.  He entered the Reception Hall and half-listened to the simpering words of the Imperial Governor.  He knew the man, Hillip Ohni, a slug of a man – even by political standards.  His syrupy words turned his stomach, but he knew that Huur warranted this kind of attention.  His father was a man of power and money, the two things that drove the galaxy.  He also knew that Ohni was trying to curry his favor as well.  For as much as he loathed it, G knew he was now the possessor of his father’s power.  The Governor ushered him into the room where his father lay.  Yulia preceded him and he closed the door behind.  Within he saw the sleek Laroon wood casket placed on the suspensor catafalque, and his brother.

  Bedav Atrasin was two years younger and several centimeters taller than G’shlecc.  He possessed his mothers round face, sandy hair and hazel eyes.  He was stout, not as athletically built as Driver and not as battle-toned.  He did, however share G’s steady, piercing Atrasin stare.  His gaze was unwavering and like his older brother had developed it to reduce those who thought them his equal.  That gaze now met, and locked with Drivers.  The two men moved toward each other, met and embraced tightly.  The grief, relief and love were evident.  The brothers had not seen each other in four years, and were now brought together in mourning. 

  “It is good to see you again brother, “choked out Bedav.

  “You too Squirt, “replied G as he tossed out Bedav’s childhood nickname.

  Bedav broke their embrace and moved to Yulia, kissing her lightly and gathering her up in his arms as well.  G turned to the coffin and rested his hand on the warm wood.

  “It’s empty.”

  G turned and looked quizzically at his brother.  Bedav responded, “No remains to collect.”

  G nodded and nonetheless kept his hand on the box, as if he could still feel his father’s presence within.

  Bedav continued, “Uncle Alecc arranged this memorial service and ceremony to keep up the appearances of House Atrasin.  He thought it best to ‘show the colors’ a bit and remind the folks here that we were still in charge.”

  Alecc Atrasin, his father’s eldest brother, and majordomo.  He’d been at Huur’s side his entire life.  He’d helped him elope with their mother, he’d brought Huur and Geordi back together and he’d orchestrated the rise of House Atrasin to the heights of power.  Uncle Alecc had been so loved that Huur had named him godfather and namesake to his first born.  Alecc had never married and devoted himself to his brother’s cause.  It had paid off handsomely, as Alecc was nearly as powerful and wealthy as Huur himself. 

  “Where is Alecc, “queried G?

  “He was delayed at the Hof.  Bank business.”

  Driver nodded, Uncle Alecc would put bank business before family business.  Then he thought, no.  To Alecc the bank WAS family business, as important as a birth, or in this case, a funeral. 

  “Alecc informed me not long after it happened, and I was on the first flight off Coruscant.  I’ve been here ever since.  I wanted to help with the arrangements, but Alecc would have none of it.  I’ve been going a little crazy all alone in the Hof.  I’m glad you’re here, I’m glad you’re both here.”

Driver moved to his brother and once again embraced him.  He held him as he did in the days after their mother had left, and the tearful eight year-old was beside himself with fear and doubt.

  “We’ll be OK brother, we’ll be OK,”

  Bedav broke the hug, “It’s not me I’m worried about; it’s you.  You’re the Baronet now.  You’re the one with the power and the money.  I’ve heard through channels that they’ve already made one attempt on you.  They’re sure to make more.”

  Driver tensed up, “Don’t worry about me.  I’ve got fifteen of the best fighter-pilots in the Empire on my arm, and the entire VE fleet behind me.  They’d be suicidal to try anything again, especially now that we’re prepared for them. “

  As if written in a cheap Credit Store novel the sound and vibration of an explosion echoed through the hall.

  “You are absolutely shitting me!” screamed G as he drew his blaster and moved to cover Yulia.

  Bedav flashed a hidden hold out blaster, and scanned the room for whatever may come, “This is not good brother, suggestions?”

  “Well, first I’d say, leave.  Second, this is getting old.  And finally, when this is over, I want the head of whoever is doing this.”

  “Agreed, let’s work on that first part.  Follow me. “He half-shouted as he ran for the furthest wall opposite the casket. 

  G followed with Yulia in tow.  Bedav skidded to a halt and frantically clawed at the wall hangings.  They parted to reveal a door.

  “A secret passageway I suppose?”

  “Well, it’s a passageway, and it hasn’t been a secret since I was thirteen and got Alcee Kren to show me her ‘virtues’ when we came home for Grandfather’s funeral” he sputtered slamming the door controls.

  G pushed Yulia through the now open door and followed, “Alcee Kren, how the hells did you get her to give it up, she was going to be a nun?”

  Bedav keyed the door shut behind them, “What can I say, I’m persuasive.  This corridor leads to the livery.  My speeder is parked there.  We can make for the Hof and call your team once we’re secure.”

  The Atrasins wove their way through the narrow, trash strewn hall dodging pipes and ducts as they went.  They shortly arrived at the livery.  G and Bedav secured the door and hop scotched their way to the waiting speeder.  Bedav had used one of the household’s formal speeders.  It was black and shiny, and Driver knew, damn near impenetrable.  All of the household’s vehicles were made to military specs for security purposes.  He was certain they’d be alright; he’d personally designed half of them for Kuat’s subsidiaries. 

  G shoved Yulia in the speeder and slid behind the controls, only to be shoved over in turn by Bedav.

“You may be the hotshot pilot, but I’m the real Driver in this family.” He smiled.

  The younger Atrasin cold fired the vehicle from zero to insane in an afterthought.  They shot out of the livery and into the bright Atoran day.  The traffic was heavy and completely unnoticed by Bedav.  He wove in and out of the motorists as if they were standing still.  G had flown countless combat missions, been shot at, shot down and left for dead, but his brother’s driving truly scared him.

  He took a moment to turn and see black smoke and flames billowing out of the Governor’s Hall.  He wondered what sort of havoc the boys were raising.

  “I need to call my men, “he sputtered reaching for his comm.

Bedav slapped it down, “Not till we’re in the Hof. I don’t want anyone to know you’re gone.” 

  The Hof.  The Ratselhof, seat of House Atrasin for nearly fifty years since granted to Geordi Atrasin as a boon from an amused monarch.  Palpatine had thrown out the local Moff to give it to his grandfather.  That Moff had made the fatal error of expressing his displeasure to the Emperor.  His scorched outline still graced the walls of the main dining room.  It was more of a fortress than a home, and it was to this safe haven the brothers fled. 

  They came in hot.  The speeder barely registered to the security sensors set up around the perimeter of the tower.  Bedav guided the craft into the main vehicle bay, skidding to a halt with the help of all brakes and the emergency restraint system.  He punched the canopy off and made for the main security office.  Once in he smashed the emergency secure button and placed the Hof on full lockdown. 

  Powerful shields, shields that could protect a Moff, or an Emperor, crackled to life.  They were finally safe.  The younger Atrasin made his way back to the speeder as G finally managed to pull Yulia from the wreckage.  Both were unharmed, but obviously rattled.

  “Da would not be happy with what you did to the car, “quipped G

  Bedav smiled wryly, “I think this is one of those occasions where he wouldn’t have minded.”

  “I think you’re right, Squirt.  Now, I need to contact my men.  Once I get them here, I want you, Uncle Alecc and the Chief of House Security to meet me in Father’s study.  I want to get to the bottom of this, and I want it now.”

OOC:

2003 words.  ok, y'all can have fun with the assasins, track'em kill'em, do what you want.  just meet at the Ratselhof in no more than 3 story hours.

Slasher was looking out toward the Gugol when suddenly a large explosion came from behind him, whirling back to face the Governor's Hall, Slasher's hand drops to the holster at his side, and he draws his S-5 Blaster and quickly activates the grapple launcher, he points to Goth and JMac who had looked to him for instructions, and tells them to go inside and help the others, he's going looking for snipers.

As he arrives on the roof, Slasher crouches and looks around, checking to see if there are any enemies in his immediate vicinity. Seeing nothing immediately, Slasher moves slowly along the roof, scanning left and right with his blaster, he slowly begins to move in the direction the blast had come from, thinking that if there are enemies waiting to snipe at his wingmates, as he moves Slasher begins to think through the events of the past few weeks.

I can't believe all this stuff that has happened over the past few weeks. Just a few weeks ago, I was a mere Flight Member in this squadron, then all of a sudden things changed...

I was promoted from Petty Officer 2nd Class to Chief Petty Officer, and following quickly after that was promoted to the position of Flight Leader when Bacredi was promoted to command the academy. Then in recent times things have been going so badly that I have been prepared to resign my commission, but have been convinced not do so, because with Kane prepared to step down as XO, and with an influx of new pilots into the squadron, I may be asked to step up in the next few weeks...

Slasher hears some sort of movement up ahead, and he crouches, leveling his blaster toward the source of the sound. As he prepares to investigate, he can't help but give one last thought on what is expected of him.

Am I up to it? Am I prepared and qualified to step up within this squadron if asked...

Ending his musing for the present with that thought, Slasher concentrates once again on something he can deal with, the present.

===20 meters away===

Kranto watches the pilot approaching him up ahead, and moving slowly so as not to draw any more attention to himself, he places his LJ-90 Sniper Rifle down on the ground, and prepares to jump the pilot.

Looks like an enlisted man... probably doesn't have that much hand to hand combat experience.

reaching down, he pulls his XV-7 Vibrobayonet from its sheath, and prepares to jump the young soldier.

===Slasher===

Scanning side to side with his blaster, Slasher has yet to see the source of the noise that he had heard, but he did not drop his guard, he continued to advance slowly, step by step, scanning for anything that looked out of the ordinary, a coiled weapon, just waiting for the chance to strike.

I know you are around here somewhere... where'd you go...

Without warning, there's a clatter to his left and Slasher whirls to the side, thus avoiding the bayonet that was thrusting toward his neck, while he manages to avoid the thrust to his neck, Slasher still receives a nasty gash to his left shoulder. Dodging quickly to avoid further injury, Slasher strikes his opponent's wrist, causing him to drop the bayonet. Immediately the two men begin circling each other each waiting for the other to make the first move.

===Kranto===

As Kranto circles his opponent he slowly rotates his injured wrist. He had expected this to be easy, he'd wait for the pilot to appear, and kill him quickly and quietly. However things were not going as he had planned. Instead of him standing over this pilots dead body right now, he was preparing to engage him in hand to hand combat.

What happened... this was supposed to be an easy mission, and this guy is just a pilot, not even a very experienced one

As he prepares to fight, Kranto recognizes the emblem on his enemy's uniform designating him as a Flight Leader, immediately he begins to reassess the man he was fighting. He looks to the ribbons on the man's chest, and he doesn't see any long service ribbons, which immediately gives him another boost of confidence, and continuing to circle his opponent he begins to taunt him.

“You're a fraud, you do not have the experience required to be a flight leader. I can see from your uniform that you do not even have six months service with the Navy, you don't have the experience to be leading other men into battle, and you don't have the combat experience to be able to defeat me...”

He watched the eyes of the pilot across from him, a Senior Chief Petty Officer if he remembers the rank insignia correctly, hoping to see some indication that the pilot's will is weakening. Seeing no indications immediately he decides to test his opponent's defenses...

===Slasher===

Slasher watches the man across from him, listening to his taunts, he sees the man's eyes searching, trying to find some sort of weakness in his defenses.

He's trying to get into my head, trying to break me before we even exchange blows... we'll see who breaks first...

As the continue to circle, Slasher sees his opponent suddenly tense, and he dodges slightly to the side as the first couple of probing punches from his opponent are launched. He allows a few of them to land glancing blows, giving the indication that he is slightly weakened on his left side by the gash across his shoulder, and waits for his opponent to try and take advantage of this.

Suddenly his opponent does, launching a flurry of punches toward Slasher's stomach and ribs, trying to get him to leave his shoulder open to a strike. Seeing what his opponent is doing, Slasher makes a move as if to block one of the punches to his ribs, and immediately his opponent seizes the opportunity, pulling back his punch before Slasher can block it he delivers a quick punch to the injured part of Slasher's shoulder. He is rewarded by a hiss of pain from the pilot, and he brings his other hand around in a chopping motion, hoping to completely disable his opponent's left arm.

===Kranto===
Kranto can taste victory as he delivers a hard punch to the shoulder of the pilot before him, and hears the pilot's hiss of pain, he let's out a roar of victory as his hand prepares to chop down on the shoulder, but that roar of victory suddenly turns into a scream of shock and pain when his opponent's left arm shoots up grabbing a fistful of his tunic and he receives a knee to his stomach, which dazes him momentarily. In that second of shock, his opponent suddenly reverses his hold, letting go with his left, and grabbing the other side with his right. And with a sweep of his leg and a yanking motion he throws Kranto.

Kranto feels his shirt rip as he goes flying, a swift kick to his chest adding to the distance he goes. As he lands with a grunt he feels his tunic loosen and begin to fall away. Not wanting the tunic to restrict his movement, he tosses it away as he struggles back to his feet and charges his opponent again with a scream of fury.

===Slasher===

Slasher is surprised when the tunic of his opponent falls away and reveals a tattoo, while this in and of itself would not have been disturbing, the fact that it was identical to the emblem which had graced the hulls of the fighters which had attacked them earlier certainly was.

Someone is trying to kill Gshlecc, and they've hired this group of mercenaries to do their dirty work apparently.

Slasher falls back under the fury of his opponent's attack, caught off guard momentarily because of the shock of seeing the tattoo, he is hard pressed to block his opponent's attacks, and as the man across from him drives him to his knees, he realizes why. With that realization he begins to smile and again to taunt the Senior Chief.

“So Senior Chief, having second thoughts about your ability to defeat me?”

he slowly begins to circle Slasher again, continuing his taunts,

“I heard that your fighter was lost getting here, you couldn't even save your fighter. Well you know what, your Wingmen killed my friend after he got you. And now I'm going to avenge his death by taking out you, the miserable failure responsible for his death. And then I'm going to eliminate the rest of your squadron, one by one.”

Slasher, despite being driven to his knees by the injuries he had sustained in the fury of his opponent's latest attack, looked up at his attacker when he threatened the members of his squadron. He watches as the mercenary moves in for the final strike, moving in to break his neck. Slasher was resigned to his fate when all of a sudden a series of images begins to flash by his face. Driver, on the day he was promoted to Ensign, Hunter-Morrell, a long time friend, and now the 4 Flight leader in Nazgul after the closing of Kaph, these images, accompanied by many others of joyous times with his squadron mates flash through his mind. Instantly he is furious at himself for giving up, but even more furious at the man before him for daring to threaten his friends.

Looking up, Slasher says just a single word as the mercenary comes in for the final strike, “Never”

As the strike descends Slasher suddenly feels a burst of energy, and as he dives out of the way, he pulls together what strength he still has and prepares to finish this fight. As the mercenary looks up in surprise at the pilot who again has refused to go quietly he screams in fury and grabbing a piece of permacrete from the roof he hurls it at the pilot's face, and charges in to finish him.

Slasher responds immediately, setting himself he draws within himself and as the piece of permacrete is just 2 feet away he suddenly strikes out with his bare fist, breaking the permacrete and meeting the charge of the mercenary head on, he prepares to finish this fight, seeing the bayonet lying on the ground nearby, Slasher lunges toward it, grabbing it and turning over to shove it into the chest of the mercenary as he lunges after him.

Kranto staggers back in shock, looking at the hilt of the vibroblade protruding from his chest, he looks up at his opponent and says, “I guess I was wrong...” before he falls to the ground. Moving quickly over to where the Sniper Rifle sits, Slasher picks it up and retrieving his blaster and holstering it, he moves off toward the site of the blast, ready to provide support to his fellow pilots as they investigate.

OOC:

Around 1900 words, 1 enemy down.

“I have a bad feeling about this…” Hunter said quietly.

“What was that, sir?” Fagron said over the comm.

“Don’t call me sir. It’s Hunter. And I said I-” Hunter was saying, interrupted by an explosion emanating from inside the building.

Quickly, Hunter ran toward the East Wing where the explosion had occured, slightly pleased as he saw Fagron and albino converging on it too. Reaching it, they examined the area for a few moments before determining that there was nobody even in that vicinity when it exploded. Reporting their discovery, or lack of one, to Stormz, Hunter waved Flight Four on into the building.

“Ok guys. We’re going to search, making our way to the West Wing, where Gshlecc was last at. Fire on my command only. We don’t know if there are any friendlies in our area.” Hunter said.

As they jogged through the smoking remains of one of the inner rooms, Hunter scanned the areas in front of him.  Holding up a finger, he stopped, noting that Fagron immediately ground to a halt, while albino obeyed after a split second. Drawing his submachine gun, Hunter jogged forward and peeked around the corner. Seeing nobody, he edged out with the gun held straight out in front of him and ducked as a few bolts spewed towards him. Rolling to the side, he returned fire, forcing the attacker to jump back behind cover. That allowed albino and Fagron to get to him. With them backing him up, Hunter slowly advanced. All it took was one mistake and the firefight would be over. A few minutes into it, that mistake was made.

Its time to end this. My men are wearing down and I don’t need them tired for whatever upcoming battle we shall get in.

Tiring of the attacker always managing to dodge their shots, as Fagron and albino were unloading shot after shot in the direction of the attacker, Hunter ran forward, staying close to the wall. Grabbing his FSK-7 combat knife and sliding it out of its scabbard, he jumped forward and slashed diagonally.

[i]Either this connects or I’m going to be toast. It all depends on timing.

Fagron and albino had to reload, enabling the attacker to lean around its cover to return fire. The strike caught the figure on the shoulder, plunging deep into the bone. Howling, the figure spun away from Hunter. Withdrawing the knife, Hunter lept forward and sunk it into the back of the howling figure. It immediately grew quiet and collapsed. Pulling knife out with a nasty sounding squelch, Hunter grimaced as he rubbed the blood off on the clothing of the corpse. Crouching, Hunter searched the body, finding no idea whatsoever.

“This just keeps getting weirder and weirder. “ Hunter said, shaking his head.

*picks up directly after my last post*

StOrmZ nodded back, then paused to answer his comlink. He spoke for a few moments and seemed relieved. Turning it off again, he looked up and started issuing orders, "Drac, Driver's at his family's estate, the Rastelhof. It's a couple klicks west of here. It's the building with a shield dome covering it. Your flight needs to be there yesterday." The wookie turned to the squadron's XO then, saying, "Kane, we're going to meet up with fourth flight while we secure this building. As soon as we meet up, everyone heads to the Rastelhof."

As soon as the Ensign had given his orders Draac moved over to the other members of his flight, "Are you guys good to go?" They both nodded, checking their weapons. "Good. Let's go then..." The group moved out toward the main exit, intending to find some speeders to use. As they approached the doors the wailing tones of security sirens could be heard approaching the governor's palace. It gave the Mon Cal an idea.

As the three pilots paused at a cross-corridor Drac turned to the others with a rueful grin, "You guys know this is my first real mission. Just because I've got a stripe on you doesn't mean I'm any better at this ground-pounding stuff. We're going to need to work together to do this right, not to mention if we want to live through the day. But I do have a plan for when we get outside." He outlined it quickly and they moved on. I just hope it works. Gambling's not the best tactic in combat. Drac continued down the corridor, feeling something swelling within him. Rage. There were few things that truly angered him, but an attack on a friend was one of them. Now that he had a moment to think, the memory of the attack had his blood boiling. These mercs would regret their actions.

The flight reached the last turn in the corridor, a ten meter stretch of hallway that led directly out into the gand lobby of the palace. Drac was second in line as they approached it. The lead pilot paused then swung forward around the corner, blaster up. just as quickly he jumped back, iridescent bolts flashing past the corner.

Moving up slightly, Drac crouched and brought up his blaster, "How many of them?"

"Three, I think. I saw two near the main door for sure and I think I saw another using the base of the stairway for cover."

"Is there any cover on our side of things?"

"Yeah. Looks like a couple of statues spaced along the landing at the top of the stairs."

The third pilot spoke up then, "Who's the best shot?"

All three looked at each other for a moment. Drac shrugged, "Probably not me. When I signed up to be a pilot I didn't think I'd end up in any blaster fights, so I didn't do more than the basic training."

"What about getting shot down?"

"Err...I preffered to hope that wouldn't happen."

One of the others volunteered to give cover fire, so a few moments later Drac and the third pilot dashed for the statues while he fired on their opponents. Drac ran straight past the first statue, leaving it for the other. As he approached the second statue, the one on the other side of the stairway, he let himself drop. His momentum and the ridiculously waxed floors combined to let him slide the rest of the way, slipping in behind the statue (of the Governor, no less) just as several blaster bolts singed the air where he would have been if he'd kept running upright. That's luck, Drac. Good luck, but just luck, he thought to himself.

Popping up, the Mon Cal saw that the cover fire had done some good. One of the two enemis near the door lay on the ground, unmoving. The other had moved behind a statue of his own. The third one...Drac pulled his head back in fast as the last enemy opened up on him. Since the alien pilot had crossed the top of the staircase the Merc was wide open in front of him...which meant the merc was very determined to kill him or at least keep his head down. The man's shots went high at first, saving Drac's life and blowing the head of the statue into shards. Somehow that was fitting...

Bolts continued to chew away at the statue, leaving its stone garments a wreck of their former selves. Every time Drac tried to poke out and fire the man forced him back with shots. Meanwhile the other two traded shots with the third man. Finally Drac got off a shot, but his bolt glanced off of the stair rail by the merc's head. The merc returned fire. one of his bolts burned a long holw through the sleeve of Drac's dress tunic, setting the garment on fire. A second bolt blew off the outstretched hand of the statue.

The mon cal pilot patted the flames out, cursing. Then he saw the marble hand lying on the ground and an idea surfaced in his head. It was idiotically simple, but it might just work. Switching his pistol to his left hand, he picked up the chunk of marble. He judged the distance, aimed, and threw the hand over its former owner. It didn't hit the man, but it forced him to duck. In that moment Drac stood and rested his left hand on the statue's arm. Steadied by the statue, he took aim and fired. The bolt hit the man in the throat as he looked up, leaving the area a bloody wreck. The merc collapsed, thrashing, and quickly became still. My first kill and its not even in space. Looking at the man, he sighed, his rage conflicting with regret, And I'm not sure about how I feel about this. I've killed someone. Still, the sithspawn deserved it and worse.

Glancing back at the others, Drac found them walking toward him. The third merc lay dead behind his statue. Everyone was okay, though Drac had to endure some good natured ribbing about his ruined dress tunic. He took it in stride, using the distraction to hide his disquiet.

One flight made its way down the main stairs, past the bodies of the mercs, and to the front door of the palace. Stopping on each side of the door they looked out. Fortunately, the view that met them was that of Atoran security speeders landing on the small plaza that fronted the palace. Before they moved, one of the other pilots sugested that they wait to see if it really was Atoran security. After all, these Mercs were well supplied and well connected.

When the men exited the security speeders the first thing they did was establish a perimeter and start collecting some witnesses, with just a portion of their force heading toward the palace. Since mercs would have no reason to fake that if they didn't know they were being watched, it looked pretty safe to come out. As the security officers approached Drac shouted out to them, "Atoran security! This is Senior Crewman Mihawk of Nazgul Squadron, Vast Imperial Navy. My flight has secured the main lobby. We need to speak with your commander...we're coming out."

A moment passed as the officers reacted, then a voice shouted back, "This is Atoran Security Captain K'etoh. Come on out, Senior Crewman. Just make sure your weapons are secured."

Drac nodded to the others and they holstered their blasters. Then he yelled back, "As you say, Captain." The flight stepped out, arms away from their bodies, and double timed it toward a man in an officer's uniform who waved them over. As soon as they arrived the man began asking questions.

"Okay, pilots. Tell me what the hell just happened in there." K'etoh glared at them in stereotpical annoyed officer fashion.

"Sir. We're Nazgul's One Flight, escorting a senior officer on important business. Someone is trying to kill him though. The explosion was a distraction meant to allow mercenary forces to attack our unit. At this time we need to rendevous with that officer immediately."

"I'm afraid that's out of the question, Senior Crewman." The Captain shook his head, "You're not going anywhere until this gets straightened out.

This man was costing them time already, time which might be very important when it came to getting Driver out of this mess. Drac got angry again. Leaning forward, he narrowed his eyes and replied, "You misunderstand me, Captain. You will help us rendevous with our commander. Or would you prefer to be responsible for the death of the new Baronet G'schlecc Atrasin so soon after his father was murdered?" The man paled. "Good. I see you understand. Now, we need to borrow three of your speeder bikes to facilitate our travel to the Rastelhof. Which ones will we use?"

The Captain flushed red, angry at the Mon Cal's presumption. He didn't have much choice though. The Baronet just might be the most important person on Ator. Wordlessly, he swung around and pointed out three security speeders parked some twenty meters away.

Drac gestured the other two toward the speeder bikes, then spoke again before following them, "Thank you for your assistance, Captain. Two of our flights should still be in the building, as well as whatever mercenaries and staff are still inside. If you hurry, you may be able to find out more from them. Your speeder bikes will be at the Rastelhof if we do not return them ourselves."

Making his way over to the bikes, Drac mounted the empty one. As he fired it up Thedrish leaned over and said, "Kind of harsh, Two."

"When a cyclone approaches, one does well not to waste words, Three."

OOC:

Thedrish/Catachan: I tried to design this one so you can choose what you do and add detail, since it was so long.

Words: 1640

After all the excitement, the final leg of the journey was thankfully uneventful.
Once everyone came out of hyperspace, and this time there was no stragglers, flights one and two were sent ahead. Flight three was ordered to cover "Gugol's" front and the newly formed flight four covered the yacht's rear. Flying in tight formation they descended to the planet and prepared to land.

Once on the ground, the first thing Goth did was to get the mechanics moving on repairing his Avenger's broken equipment, and ordered the flight crew to give him hourly progress reports.
Then he went to the "Gugol" and prepared for honor guard duty. After donning his dress uniform and holstering hid DL-44 he went outside. As he was walking to his position in the formation, he overheard Slasher telling Kane he was leaving the Navy to join the troopers. Kane laughed and said, "You'll have to go through the Squadron Commander to do so, and now is not the time."

This got Goth thinking. Nazgul and the "Gugol" had left the "Atrus" suddenly and very quietly, yet they were ambushed on the way. There couldn't be more than a handful of people who knew they were leaving, much less their destination. There was more going on here than what was apparent, but Goth didn't have enough information yet to pinpoint just what it was. A situation Goth decided he would soon rectify. But this realization was clear; they must have a spy in their midst.

This particular fact stunned him. He was a loyal subject of the Empire, and always had trouble understanding the rebellion. In the end he finally had decided it was just a power grab. That some power hungry fiend had tried to overthrow the Empire, which he loved, by exciting the people to malcontent.

Not that the Empire had always loved him. He had spent plenty of time on the lamb, after killing the man that gave the order for his families death. But during that time his heart was still with the Empire.

Now it appeared that a member of Nazgul (his family) was betraying not only the Empire, but the whole squadron. To Goth this was a staggering mental blow. Goth considered his position in Nazgul Squadron to be an honor, and could not understand how any member could feel otherwise. But the facts were clear, someone had tipped off those ships at the ambush. The only question was who could it be.

As Goth preformed his honor guard duties, when Gshlecc disembarked from his ship, all these thoughts were going though his mind. Though he didn't let them distract him as he performed the honor guard duty. He was honored to be under G's command and made sure he looked sharp.

Still the question kept coming back to him. Who could the traitor be? Surely not the Squadron Commander, he had lost his father to murder and the ambush on the "Gugol" showed Gshlecc's life was next on someone's list. He knew next to nothing about Kane his XO, so he was a distinct possibility. Which brought him to his Flight Leader. Twice now he had overheard Slasher was trying to leave the Squadron and had been denied. Which Goth decided could mean nothing or a whole lot.

He didn't think it could be any of the other Flight Members, but from experience he knew better than to rule anyone out until he had the facts.
In Goth's mind his path was clear, he had to get more information.Something was amiss, and he for one was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Gshlecc got to the Governor's Hall without incident, which was a relief. Then the explosion shook the area.
Slasher ordered him and JMac to go help the people inside, but as they got there they saw a group of men leaving the building.
Stealthily Goth and JMac followed them. Seeing which way they were going, Goth told JMac to stay on their tail, as he darted around the highrise they were using to conceal their pursuit.
Thanks to the diligent study of the cities maps, Goth had no trouble getting in front of the mercs and was hiding around a corner as they approached his position.

As they came around the corner Goth dropped the first one with one blow to a vital area, killing him instantly.
Then JMac flamed two of them with his blaster from behind, leaving two.
One dove and made a break for it, JMac's blaster fire missing as he ducked around the corner of a building. The last assassin aimed at Goth, but dodging, the blast flying by his head, Goth disarmed the assailant and knocked him unconscious. Goth only left him alive, because he wanted answers.

Stripping the shirt off of one of the corpses, Goth found a vibroknife strapped to his forearm. Using the knife he cut the tunic to shreds and tied up the unconscious man. Putting the vibroknife back in its sheath, he then slid it into his boot. If Goth had his way, this guy would soon wish he had died with his fellows.
Checking the other bodies they found four heavy blasters,eight grenades, two more vibroknifes, four XV-7s, and a small concealable custom made blaster. Goth slid the small blaster into his other boot and grabbed one of the heavy blasters. After handing JMac a heavy blaster and one of the vibroknives, Goth strapped the last knife to his left forearm under his dress uniform. None of the corpses had any form of ID. At JMac's suggestion they took the grenades.

Goth And JMac carried the bound and still unconscious merc into the nearest highrise and Goth checked his pockets. He had no ID, but he did have a slug shooter strapped to his leg. Goth tossed it to JMac for safe keeping.
Going back outside, Goth spotted a platoon of Stormtoopers running toward the Governor's mansion. After stopping them he got their officer to leave two of his members, to stay and guard the prisoner, until they could return for him. The privates took up positions on either side of the merc and trained their blasters on the unconscious assassin.

Though a few minutes had passed, Goth wanted to track down the one who had escaped. So he started in the direction that he was last seen.
Using his instincts and bounty hunting training, Goth was sure he was behind the escapee and gaining. Noticing traces of the merc's passing that few in the galaxy would ever have noticed.
Then Slasher came over the com-link, ordering them to Ratselhof. Goth was relieved to find out that Gshlecc was OK.

The sound of the com-link had alerted the escaping merc of pursuit and he maneuvered to take out those following him.
Goth felt that something was wrong as he cautiously peered around the corner of the building, then a blaster shot hit behind them. The merc had crept around behind them and was just about to blow Goth's head off, when Slasher picked him off from his snipper position.

'I owe you one for that Flight Leader, Goth thought to himself, as he and JMac started moving out toward Ratselhof.

As Slasher watches through the scope of his LJ-90 as the rest of Nazgul squadron works to mop up what remains of the Mercs, he observes that there is only one group of Mercenaries left, and that they are the ones trying to breach the shield into the hof.

He is about to mention this to Kane when the XO's voice comes over the comlink as he begins to give orders;

“Alright Nazgul, all flights rendezvous at the house designated by Slasher earlier, we've eliminated everyone else. We're going to go in prepared for hand to hand combat, we don't want to cause any explosions with everyone in there because of stray blaster bolts, so watch your aim. Make sure your hand to hand weapons are ready.”

A series of confirmations come from the rest of the pilots and Slasher begins to move also toward the building.

===10 minutes later, 2 and a half hours post Explosion===

As Nazgul Squadron prepares to storm the building holding the remaining Mercenaries, Slasher looks around at the pilots he is going in with, some of them he's served with since he has joined the squadron, and others are new, rookie pilots on their first combat mission. However as he looks around he doesn't see any faces showing rookie pilots, all the pilots present, even those on their first mission, have been hardened by the experiences that they have gone through.

Turning to Kane to report his Flight's readiness, Slasher grimaces in pain from the gash in his shoulder that he sustained during his fight with the sniper on the roof of the Governor's Hall, but he grits his teeth and reports anyway. “3 Flight is ready Sir, all Pilots accounted for, and still combat ready.”

===Kane===

After receiving reports from both his Flight Leaders, and seeing to Flights 1 and 2 for himself, Kane turns to the assembled pilots and begins to issue orders;

“All right, this is the last group of mercenaries, and we need to take them out, we're all going through the front door, here's how we'll do it. Once we're in, 1 Flight, 2 Flight and 3 Flight will each head off in a different direction, 1 Flight head off to the left, 2 Flight follows me forward, 3 flight will head off right. 4 flight will remain at the door initially, able to provide any of the other three flights with support.”

After receiving confirmations that they understand their orders from the pilots, Kane turns and moves with everyone to the entrance of the building, as soon as every one is in position and receiving nods of confirmation from each of his Flight Leaders, Kane moves in, as Hunter-Morrell opens the door the first 3 flights charge in.

Kane turns as he hears a yell of fury; “what th-”

The last thing Kane sees before everything goes black is a boot heading for his face.

===Slasher===

Moving quickly to engage the sudden attack, Slasher is surprised at the ferocity of the enemies. Although outnumbered, the 8 remaining mercenaries are determined to make it a hard fight, Kane quickly goes down with a boot to the face, which shattered his jaw.

Realizing that it is now his job to command this squadron, Slasher yells out; “1, 2, AND 3 FLIGHTS, PUSH THEM BACK, 4 FLIGHT, GET KANE OUT OF HERE!”

Immediately everyone moves to carry out his orders, Goth, JMac, and Mellainius engage 3 of the Mercenaries. Thedrish squares off with the guy who leveled Kane, and with a ferocious wookie roar, Ruwe picks up one of the enemies and hurls him across the room, and then begins to grapple with another one. Similarly the other pilots begin to fight the Mercenaries.

===Goth===
Goth watches his opponent warily as they begin to circle, each of them clutching a vibroblade in their fist

What in the name of the Emperor's Black Bones happened? This was supposed to be an easy mission, escort Driver back to his home planet for his father's funeral and then escort him back, we weren't supposed to be fighting every mercenary between here and the outer rim!

As they continue to circle, Goth sees his opponent suddenly tense, and with that they are engaged, his opponent dodges slightly to the side in an attempt to stab him in the ribs, he blocks this strike, and counter-attacks, feinting toward his opponent's knife hand, he suddenly switches which hand his blade is in midstroke, and stabs downward with the blade into his opponents arm, which drops to his side, useless.

===Thedrish===

Thedrish responded to the sudden attack just like all the others, turning to engage the enemy nearest to him, and when Slasher told them to start pushing them back, he doubled his attack on his opponent forcing him back.
However his enemy's advantages in size and strength quickly begin to show, as Thedrish begins to take more and more hits. He continues to fight, and sees that Ruwe is trying to make his way over to help.

Thedrish is quickly reduced to just trying to block the thrusts of his opponent's vibroblade, suddenly his opponent throws a punch at his jaw, and as Thedrish moves to block that strike, he realizes to late it was a feint and as he feels his opponent's blade entering his body just below his belt...

===Ruwe===

Ruwe roars with fury as he watches the big mercenary's vibroblade stab Thedrish in the groin, as the large mercenary pulls his blade from his groin, Thedrish sinks to his knees, a look of pain and shock frozen on his face.

All of a sudden everything seems to be happening in double time, Ruwe moves across the area in a single motion, blocking the mercenary's next thrust at Thedrish, which would have been the killing blow, as the mercenary attempts to turn to engage Ruwe, he never has a chance, as the big wookie grabs the merc's head between his huge fists, and with a swift movement he breaks the neck of the Merc.

As the body falls Ruwe turns back into the fight against the last remaining mercenary, and sees that Mellainius has fallen at some point in the fighting, he lays on the ground in a pool of blood, but his chest is still rising and falling with steady breathing, so he is not dead yet.

===Demented===

The mercenary Demented is fighting is momentarily distracted by the ferocity of the roar from Ruwe, and Demented uses that opportunity to lunge at his opponent, aiming for a killing blow with his vibroblade, his opponent attempts to dodge, messing up his aim, and while Demented's blow is crippling, it is not an outright mortal wound.

As Demented prepares to follow up the blow, the Mercenary realizes he is one of the last mercenaries standing, and that this team is not going to succeed and knows that he is about to die, and he has other ideas about how he wishes to die, and as Demented lunges in, he activates the explosive charge on his belt...

Time seems to slow for Demented, he sees the arm moving down, he sees the Mercenary hit the activation button.

“beep”

He begins to turn to flee, and he sees the looks of shock on the rest of the Nazgul Pilot's faces.

“beep”

Slasher is yelling orders as everyone tries to run, but Demented can't seem to hear him.

“beep”

Demented has time for one word before his is thrown across the room by the explosion, “sithspit!”

BOOM...

...
...
...
...
...
...
...

===2 hours 40 minutes past explosion===

Silence...

OOC:

1281 words, until Gshlecc posts again, just pick up the pieces, and pull yourselves together, Kane needs to be tended to, as do the others, but they are out for the story, Kane is still around, just knocked out.

Ruwe waited outside the building as with the rest of the Nazgul pilots. Everything since the attack in space all seemed a blur to him. Even the more calm peaceful parts in between were a blur. It was only now, looking at them all together like this, heading into the last merc force that things slowed down enough to realize that they were no longer strangers with one another. They were now all true brothers-in-arms. No longer were any of the rookies including himself, rookies anymore. This one mission had changed them all to battle hardened pilots.

Saying a silent prayer for everyone to himself he waited for the order to charge in. Looking at the flight leaders reporting the readiness of each flight he wondered what the plan was. As if he had asked aloud Kane gave the orders. One flight to the left, three flight to the right, four flight to act as backup and his flight was to charge straight forward. Ruwe liked straightforwardness as it was more honorable. Thinking twice on it though these mercs did not deserve honor as they stayed to the shadows in attempts to kill a man. The thought made him anger some. Grinding his teeth together the order was given to move in.

Four flight opened the doors and the first three flights charged in. Ruwe was right beside Kane when a merc booted Kane square in the jaw. Ruwe stood frozen for a moment as his anger flooded in full force through his body. Letting off a blood curdling war cry, Ruwe grabbed the closest merc and chucked the merc across the room. The merc hit the wall so hard that it cracked along with his spine. Watching only long enough to make sure the merc would not be in this battle any longer, he grabbed another merc. This one was a bit bigger than the last one but that hardly mattered much as the anger coursed through his veins.

Taking a hit to the stomach at full force caused him to stagger only slightly. The merc seeing him falter tried for a shot at Ruwe’s face, but Ruwe easily engulfed the mercs hand and quickly snapped it backwards. The merc dropped to his knees in pain where Ruwe brought his knee up as hard as he could into the mercs face. The man crumpled backwards into unconsciousness. Ruwe looked up just in time to see Thedrish get stabbed in the groin by a much larger opponent. “NO!”

Something must have snapped inside of him because the next thing he knew Ruwe was in front of the merc and had his head in his massive hands. With the anger now in full swing, he growled and snapped the mercs head back and broke his neck. Dropping the dead merc from his grasp he looked around at the battle. There was only one merc left. Leaving that to the other pilots he looked around at the ground. Mellainius was on the ground in a pool of his own blood, but the steady rise and fall of his chest brought him back to Thedrish who was now unconscious on the ground. Picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder, he went over to Mellainius and did the same.

Heading for the doors, he heard Slasher issuing orders again. Not slowing down though he heard distinctly, “Bomb! Everyone fall back now!” With that Ruwe hurried as far as he could before the bomb hit and through him forward through the doors with his other comrades. Making sure he landed underneath he hit his head off the ground. Feeling the world slip slowly into an inky blackness he wondered if they had won and if any had died in his first mission.

OOC:

629 words

after hearing about the bomb, he moved swiftly to help TheDrish, since he saw him get stabbed and wasn't sure if he was seriously hurt. Then, to his bad luck, the bomb blew up, throwing him to the far side of the room. Everything went pitch black for the longest time he had known...

___________________________________________________________

About 3 hours after the explosion

Skrat began coming back to reality... a very painful one at that. His back felt like it was embeded with stone and shrapnel, and he thought he had broken a femur or his hip. He began to try to push himself up, but he was to weak.

Wishing someone else was concious, he let out a loud groan of pain. Nothing responded 'cept the echo of his voice.

He tried again to get up, and this time he used a fallen structral piece to help him up. He didn't make it up all the way up, but enough for him to get in a sitting postition. He wish he couldn't see the destruction from the bomb.

Where the bomb was, there was a giant hole.  The bodies of his comrades were hiding behind whatever they could find, or they were littered on the ground, such as himself.

After his quick observation of the damages, he looked around again and saw a few moving bodies. He picked up his DC-15s Blaster Pistol and aimed it at the people. The people must've obviously saw them as they said, "Ator planetary security force! Put your weapon on the ground!"

"I'm Leading Crewman Skrat of Nazgul Squadron, Flight 1. Why don't you tell me where the hell you guys have been?"

"It's a big city, Mr... ugh, Crewman. We can't be everywhere at once."

"Maybe you can't, but your men can."

The guard made a quick head motion at the comment as a few medics came and inspected Skrat and the other pilots. The medics came back with bandages and painkillers and fixed him up. Atleast they helped him enough to let him walk and limp.

Moving around a little, he got use to the very big limp. He then spotted Slasher and went to speak with him.

"I don't think walking around like that is good for your health Skrat." Slasher said, looking at his leg.

"Yeah, well, neither is getting thrown 100 feet or so across a room by an explosive bomb." Skrat responded.

"Quite true. Your just lucky to be alive I think."

"So aren't them mercs. If they didn't use them bombs, they wouldn't have escaped. Speaking of which, where's G'shlecc?"

"He's around, don't worry. He can put up a damned good fight, espically this kind of thing. No gutless mercenary would take him without losing a few teeth and a bunch of his blood." Slasher said.

"Very inspiring Slasher, you should become a poet after you retire if you don't go home in a wooden box." Skrat said, being a smartass.

"Ha ha. Can't you ever have a conservation without some sarcastic response?" Slasher asked.

"I don't know, why don't you ask my mother?" Skrat said as he started limping away.

As he walked away, he looked down into the blast crater.  It was a long way down, and he hoped that a few of those mercs were still falling.

OOC:

just trying to spice things up a little...
word count:627

When Goth and JMac reached the building they saw the rest of the squadron had already arrived, and were preparing for a frontal assault on the said building.
Upon storming the building things broke down pretty quickly. Laser blasts were flying everywhere and Goth found himself in single hand to hand combat with one of the mercs. The merc that Goth was facing off with grinned evilly, as he drew his bayonet. Goth had seen that look many times before in other confrontations; bigger men seeing his slight build and thinking he was an easy kill.
Goth knew he could take him, and almost didn't draw his vibroknife. Then thinking twice he remembered valuable lessons from the past, namely, take nothing for granted.
As he squared for combat with the large merc Goth drew his own weapon, and prepared to eliminate the fraggin merc scum before him. The fight was quick, first Goth removed his opponents arm from play with a quick slash, then with a quick thrust to the sweet spot cleaved his heart in two. He had also seen that stunned look on the dying mans face many times and this made Goth smile (once again the prey has become the hunter).

Goth took a look around there were bodies littering the floor. His wingman was nowhere to be seen, but in the chaos and smoke Goth figured he was near.

Then he heard beeping and heard someone yell 'Bomb!' Knowing that he probably didn't have time to reach the door, he dropped to the ground, Goth tilted the corpse he had just created toward the direction in which the timer was beeping off the seconds.
Using the dead body for cover from the explosion protected him from the blast, but the concussion of the bomb left him dazed. He didn't loose consciousness, but he saw plenty of stars. After finally coming to his senses he looked around. Body parts were scattered everywhere. Goth hoped none of Nazgul were among them.
Looking down Goth was dismayed to see his dress uniform was covered in blood. On the bright side, at least it was the blood of the enemy and not any of his.
Pulling his blaster Goth took a defensive position at the door.

Goth had to admit these mercs were well organized, and persistent.
Whoever was after his Squadron Commander must be paying well, for mercs of this stamp didn't come cheap. Which also went a long way in explaining the traitor Goth was sure was in their midst.

Mindful of snipers, Goth peeked cautiously out the door. Goth was relieved to see most of Nazgul Squadron outside. Not having anything but the most basic first aid knowledge Goth left treatment to those who had the skills and took up a defensive position covering the rest of the squadron.
Taking a quick glance around Goth saw the wounded were being taken care of and stood at the ready for any other surprises the mercs might have in store.
All seemed clear... for the moment.
Goth hoped Gshlecc was safe, or this mess was all for nothing.

Then Goth's com-link buzzed. It was the commander of the flight crew working on his Avenger. He reported that both the shield generator and reserve power were once again operational.  The lasers were well on their way to being repaired, but the whole system had to be replaced cannons and all, so it was taking a little longer. Goth keyed his com-link off.

Goth had a serious headache from the bomb explosion, and was in a very bad mood.

'This is one chaotic escapade.'

Goth said out loud to no one in particular.
Then keeping his eyes open for attack, Goth walked over and reported to his Wing Leader that he had managed to capture one of the mercs alive for interrogation.

[I'm getting rreally tirred of all these bombs,] Ph'rranix yelled as he drug Demented behind him. All the human could talk about was his scratch that Hunter had just left on him.

Coming up to Hunter, Demented lurched forward, trying in vain to whap Hunter across the noggin. Stormz quickly pointed out all the places that he would be lying had Hunter not been so quick to conceive that plan. The disgruntled Naz pilot grudgingly apologized and thanked his flight leader. The three of them continued on down the hall towards the remainder of Nazgul.

It didn't take long for the Wing XO to catch up with them. Nazgul may have been the best pilots that the Vast Empire had to offer, but they weren't marathon runners by any means.

"Everyone ready?"Questioned Gsh'lecc. Un-synchronized nods gave the indication that it was time to press forward. Moving up the stairs, the Nazgul Commander caught a glimpse of a blood trail. The squadron followed the small trail to a guest's quarters. Upon entering was the remains of a servant who had died a torturous death.

Stormz heard something behind him. Turning around, he noticed a door about 30 meters away that was slightly cracked.

[Wait herre guys.] Growled the Wook as he approached the door. A faint red light shone through the crack. Ph'rranix stopped just short of the room and motioned for G'shlecc to come and assess it.

[Ooc] Ok, so i didn't add much...sorry it took so long to finish, got REALLY busy...won't make you all wait again.[/ooc]

OOC:

Wow, thanks Driver. I really liked that blaster though, lol. Ah well, one more reason to vape someone.

Drac fired up the Interceptor he'd chosen, checking that it was fueled and ready to go. Naturally, he'd chosen one right beside G'shlecc's so he could slip immediately into a wingman position. It took only a few seconds to cold start the fighter, and it all checked out.

Having accomplished this, Drac took a moment and checked himself over. His ribs ached, and he could feel a slow trickle of blood on his leg. Fortunately for him neither of these were crippling for someone flying a fighter. The only thing that might interfere with his performance in the fight was his headache, courtesy of the Ensign's uncle. The mon cal wasn't sure how he felt about that. On one hand he wanted to tear the man apart with his fists for attacking them, as well as for blindsiding him. On the other hand, the human could easily have killed him with the weapon he'd used to destroy his blaster.
He considered the problem for a moment, but was interrupted by Driver’s voice coming over the comm, “This is my fight men, not yours.”

Drac snorted in response to that, thinking back on all the people who’d tried to kill them on this mission, if Driver thought they wouldn’t stand by him now he had another think coming. Besides that, even the Ensign wasn’t good enough to face three to one odds by himself and have much hope of living. The mon cal flipped the switch allowing him to speak on the comm and replied, “With all due respect sir, he’s tried several times to kill you by going through us.  This IS our fight.”

“Very well, but he’s mine.” Drac could hear the irritation in Driver’s voice, as well as the deep-seated rage it masked. Well, that clears that up then. I’ll be quite happy to vape one of the guy’s wingmen.

The trio of Interceptors powered up smoothly and blasted out of the hangar. Pulling up into a steep climb, the Imperial pilots could just make out their quarry far above them. Pushing the limits of their vehicles, the three tried to make up ground. Their opponents had a similar idea, though, and the distance between the two groups stayed pretty static.  That is, until the comm units came alive again.

Glancing down at his comm screen, Drac saw the visage of an older human in the uniform of Atorian Security. The man was frowning as he spoke, “Unidentified fighters, this is Colonel Sinfre of Atorian Security. You are ordered to cease your current flight paths and return to the spaceport under AtSec escort.”

Drac was about to say something when the comm unit crackled again and a voice similar to Driver’s replied, “This is Alecc Atrasin. The fighters pursuing me are rogue pilots bent on assassinating me. Do what..."

The traitor's signal fizzled out as Driver ovverode it, "This is Baronet G'shlecc Atrasin. I have been investigating my father's death and found that my uncle and those with him are responsible...they've tried to kill me as well, along with my squadron. If you know what's good for you, Colonel, you'll help us or stay the hell out of my way." Drac couldn't help but wince. Driver's voice was sharp enough to burn through a star destroyer's
armor.

The Colonel seemed confused, and somewhat torn. After a moment he seemed to make up his mind, "All craft involved in this chase will land and surrender themselves to an investigation into this matter or risk destruction. I'm sorry Baronet, if that's who you truly are, but that is how it must be."

"...So be it."

Neither group of fighters split off as they approached the orbiting cruiser from which Sinfre had contacted them. It came to life, moving to cut off their flight path. The Imperial pilots watched, waiting for Alecc to make his move. With less than ten seconds to firing range on the cruiser the fleeing Interceptors broke off, pulling up and to port in an attempt to pass behind it. The Imperial pilots immediately adjusted the angle of their pursuit, the less severe turn allowing them to make up ground and come nearly into range of the other fighters.

Fire sprayed out from the cruiser, flashing toward both groups of fighters as they shot past. Fortunately, the cruiser didn't seem to be carrying any fighters of its own, and both groups slipped by with little trouble. The extra maneuvering required did just enough though, and the fleeing fighters were forced to face their opponents or be vaped from behind.

The three Interceptors swung around, spreading out somewhat to make coordinated attacks more difficult as the two groups came into a head to head engagement. Drac kept an eye on his targeting box and fired as soon as it indicated a good target. He had time to let out three bursts, seeing similar blasts zip by his fighter, and then they were through. Looking up, he focused on the fighter he'd gone up against, the one to Driver's Uncle's left...asssuming Alecc was in the center Interceptor. It was still flying well, but a black burn mark creased one solar array.

As Driver sped up in his pursuit of Alecc one of the other Interceptors split off. Drac dropped back from his loose formation on the Ensign, just in case. At first it looked like it was running to the planet, and Drac considered not worrying about it for the moment. But then it turned around and came in on his tail. He slapped himself mentally. Rookie mistake. If you want to live, you won't make those. First to fix this one though... Keying his comm he said, "Driver, I'm going to get this guy. Can you keep the others away while we settle our differences?"

"Yeah, but be damned careful."

The Interceptor came in, lasers blazing. Jinking back and forth, Drac managed to escape any damage. He was quickly getting tired of the game though, and chose to do something about it. Ensign StOrMz told me this stunt was too risky for a newbie...but he's not here and I don't have time to chain five or six moves on this sithspawn. Here it goes.

Drac pulled up and out, starting a high speed yo-yo. His opponent reacted quickly, following the Imperial pilot into the curve. Then Drac threw in his twist- a reverse throttle hop. Disengaging his engines, he reversed them and re-engaged them. The twin ion powerplants screamed through the hull, but the ship did decelerate extremely repidly. Drac held it there for two seconds, then reverse the process. The effect was similar to stopping a speeder cold, as the other Interceptor shot past. On its way past, though, it had a chance to fire. Drac's ship rocked as several bolts struck it, and he could see a large hole in his starboard solar array as he came back up to speed, now maxing out at about 90%. It was enough, though, to keep his opponent in his sights. The mon cal squared his targeting reticule, held his breath, and fired four pulses into the other ship. The first few simply ate away at it, but the third and fourth volleys contributed to an expanding fireball.

Swivelling his head, Drac saw that the firefight was still going, not too far out of range of his lasers. It looked like the other two enemies had tried to come back on him and been stopped by the other Nazgul flyers. One was about to make a run on the Imperials, but shied away when its pilot detected Drac coming in from the side. It gave him enough time to settle back into position near Driver. Drac smiled, feeling elated even over the anger that had characterized the day so far, "Okay, I got a kill. We can go home now if you two are finished teasing those poor guys."

OOC:

Word Count: 1319

G watched as his men made short work of the wings.

  Amateurs, they deserved what they got

  He now turned his attentions to Alecc.  Blood pounded in his ears.  Tunnel vision set in.  Space got very, very small.  His murderous uncle was about to receive the justice he so richly deserved.  This man, if he still deserved that distinction.  Brother-killer, usurper, liar, coward; all fitting titles – but ‘deceased’ was the only one that G’shlecc was interested in bestowing at this moment.

  The elder Atrasin’s wingmen had tried futilely to hold off the lethal ministrations of the Nazguls.  They had learned a hard lesson, and paid a steep price for that knowledge.  Now, as the residual dust from their remains cooled in the vacuum of space, Driver dove after his fleeing uncle. 

---Alecc Atrasin---

  Alecc had received his basic flight instruction several years ago when House Atrasin purchased the retired TIE/in.  He was not the head of his class, but he was no slouch either.  He had logged dozens of hours in simulators and had several encounters with smugglers and other ne’er-do-wells in the subsequent years. 

  As he saw his protection vaped one by one, he decided that it was better to run and live to run another day, besides G’shlecc didn’t have the stones to kill family…Huur’s inherent kindness had seen to that.  He hard banked his TIE and pushed for the nearest safe jump site. 

  The NavComp showed that his jump point was at least seven minutes at full throttle.  He quickly did the math.  G would be on him in less than four.  Those three minutes would be a lifetime that determined both of their remaining lifetimes.

---G’shlecc Atrasin---

  Driver slammed his throttle to full.  These Atrasin birds were not VE spec, but they weren’t Headhunters either.  He had the close time figured before the NavComp did.  Four minutes.  He had three minutes to deal with Alecc before he reached a save jump point.  That was more than enough time.  He was quite sure that Alecc thought him to be the soft, listless, desk jockey that had joined the VE on a whim several months back.  He would pay for his ignorance.

  Add it to the rest of his tab

  He was still out of weapon’s range, but well within comm range.  He flicked the ‘send’ switch.

  “You’re not going to make it Alecc.”

---Alecc Atrasin---

  The comm crackled with the determined, passionless voice.  Alecc’s smile faded.  That was not the voice he’d known all his life.  The G’shlecc he’d known as a child and adult was smarmy, cocky and jovial.  What filled the cockpit sounded more like the mercs he’d dealt with prior to taking out Huur.  Could he have misjudged the situation that badly?  Could he have made the fatal error of not fully knowing his adversary? 

  When he’d decided to eliminate Huur and the boys he was sure it would be simple.  Huur was a creature of habit.  His schedule had not changed in years, and even if it had he made the schedule and could not fail to put his brother where the mercs needed him.    That had been simple, almost laughably simple.  Huur never even knew what hit him.  The blast had been devastating. 

  Alecc was almost glad that there had been nothing of his brother left to bury.  He didn’t know how he’d have handled that.  It wasn’t that he’d hated Huur; it’s just that he was in the way.  For years he’d been handling Huur’s day to day operations.  He’d handled the schedule, he’d dealt with transportation, he’d queued Bank business, he’d bribed those that needed bribing, and ‘persuaded’ those that didn’t respond to credits.  He’d been the engine that drove House Atrasin for over twenty-five years, and he was penniless. 

  Well, penniless in his estimation.  His personal accounts held millions of credits, his secret ones held millions more that he had skimmed over the years.  This paled in comparison to the billions that Huur left moldering in his accounts.  He had repeatedly pushed for his brother to use those funds to purchase a more robust title, and maybe even a Senatorial seat.  He tried in vain to have Huur authorize disbursements to Black Sun and other organizations.  These organizations worked in the shadows of the Empire - they could triple and even quadruple an investment- and were not entirely endorsed by the authorities.

  Huur had blocked his every move.  He had insisted on honesty and transparency.  He always asked, “Can it stand up in the light of day?”  He loathed that saying.  Their father had said that too, and he was two-bit artisan.  Alecc Atrasin was NOT the son of a puzzle maker from a minor Core planet, he was a noble born.

  So, he took action.  He contacted mercs through his Black Sun contacts and placed the contract on Huur, G’shlecc and Bedav.  Huur was easy, the last easy part of the plan.  He hadn’t counted on the VE sending an entire elite squadron of TIE’s as escort.  He hadn’t anticipated G’shlecc being a far better soldier than anything else he’d ever been.  He hadn’t anticipated the mercs botching the hit.  He hadn’t planned for failure, and yet that was what he’d ended up with.  Now he was running for his life from his nephew.  Still, he had some tricks left.

  “Come now G’shlecc, I have the lead and we’re in identical ships.  I really doubt you’ll catch me.  Still if it makes you feel better to say that, then by all means do so.”

---G’shlecc Atrasin---

  His uncle’s smug tone echoed through the cockpit.  His blood boiled.  He knew that Alecc was right; he’d never catch him in this ship.  If he’d had his Avenger, it’d be over by now, but this one was barely doing what the brochure stated.  The House’s mechanics would need some retraining by the Fleet’s mechanics to get these birds back up to spec. 

  That tone he’d known all his life.  Alecc had classic ‘Little Man’ Syndrome.  When the Palpatine had elevated Old Geordi Atrasin to the nobility Alecc had bought into it big time.  When Huur had gained the controlling interest in Corusca Bank, he’d placed his brother as his major-domo for the want of a better place to put him.  Alecc had been a natural organizer and flourished in his role.  He’d allowed Huur to be more productive and better connected than all the other executives.  For that, Alecc had been richly rewarded.  He’d been given a generous salary, bonus’s and gifts.  Gifts of jewels, artworks, vehicles, homes and ships had been bestowed upon him.  He’d prospered under his brother, and this was how he repaid him – with death and treachery.

  G had never known who was behind all of this until the very end.  The repeated faint glow present whenever he saw the traitor’s shadow had jogged his memories.  Memories of watching Huur and Alecc spar with their lightfoils.  Sparring that had far more meaning to Alecc than to Huur.  Alecc had taken to wearing his lightfoil on his belt like a swashbuckler or a Jedi of old.  Huur would joke and tease his brother, calling him ‘Alecc Vader’.  Time after time the ribbing would spill over into a heated match that Huur always won.  Afterwards the brothers would embrace and mouth platitudes, but G remembered the look in his uncle’s eye – a look of murderous envy.  An envy that grew and festered finally claiming his father and almost he and his brother as well.

  G had had enough.  The jealousy would end here.  The crimes of Alecc Atrasin would be paid for…in full.  He reached down and tapped a quick text into his comm. 

  “I will say it Alecc, and I will make sure it becomes reality.  You will not live to see the end of this day.”

  Alecc snorted into the open line, “Enough with the bravado boy.  You cannot catch me, in less than a minute I will be far from here, and you will be left wondering where I have gone.  Don’t worry though; you and I are far from done.”

  “Actually, uncle we are entirely done.”

  Alecc was momentarily puzzled by his nephew’s comment and tone, “What do you…”

  The flash caught him off guard, and he barely was able to maneuver out of the path of the oncoming ship.

  “Gods Damn!” he shouted banking hard and slamming on his reverse thrust.

  The Gugol had dropped out of hyperspace at the point where the fleeing Atrasin could have jumped.  She came to a full and complete stop, blocking the route that Alecc had already laid into his NavComp.  As he veered away from the stationary ship he knew he’d have to reenter the jump in order to avoid killing himself.  Unfortunately for him, it also allowed G’shlecc to catch up.

  Alecc threw his TIE into a barrel roll and attempted a high speed yo-yo turn.  Having seen far too much combat to be fooled by this G drove strait on and caught his uncle as he turned. 

---Alecc Atrasin---

  Alecc came out of his turn in time to see his nephew’s ship vomit gouts of green energy.  He sighed.

  Brother, Father forgive me I’ll be joining you now

---G’shlecc Atrasin---

  The TIE blossomed into a fireball that was quickly extinguished by the cold vacuum of space.  Driver’s ship sliced through the remnants of his uncle’s craft and sagged.  It was done, but far from over.  The satisfaction of justice sat cold on his chest.  He knew it would for a while.  He turned his craft and caught up with the now mobile Gugol

  “It is good to see you, Master G’shlecc,” Chimed the tinny vocorder of Jilee.

  “You too, Jilee.  Let’s go home”

  The two craft made their way back to Ator, picking up Drac and Goth along the way.  The four of them touched down several minutes later in the main hangar of the Hof.  Yulia, Bedav and most of Nazgul were waiting for them.  Drac and Goth dismounted and graciously accepted the congratulations of their fellow squadron mates.  The droids dropped the hatch on the yacht and disembarked as well.  The only one missing was G. 

  He sat in his ship, watching the people below.  He knew what he had to do, and it wouldn’t be popular. 

  But making the shit decisions is why they pay me the big bucks

  He laughed at his own joke.  Not that it was funny, but more ironic.  He popped his hatch and dropped down to the bay floor.  Bedav met him and silently the brothers embraced.  They had lost a lot in the last week, far more than a father and an uncle, but the two of them remained.  Yulia lightly touched G’s arm.  He broke his grip on Bedav and buried himself in her.  Her strength flowed into him, and he healed a bit more.  G loosened his hold, and started moving toward the door.  He wanted a hot shower, a stiff drink and long sleep.  As he moved through the silent men and beings of Nazgul they parted for their leader.  Looks of respect and pride shown in their faces.  Faces etched with pain and marked with potential scars.  One by one they came to attention and saluted their commander.  He was too tired to stop them and kept on moving.

***Several Days Later***

  “/Are you sure about this G?/” barked Stormz inquisitively.

  Driver nodded to the Wookiee WXO, “More sure than I’ve ever been about anything in my life.  It’s my duty.”

  Yulia gripped his hand tightly.  She’d been by his side since he’d landed and had already heard all the debates.  His mind was made up, and when an Atrasin set himself to something not a Force in the galaxy could move him.  The Wook keyed the door and called the assembled members of Nazgul into the room.

  Some moved more gingerly than others, some sported bandages and fresh scars, but all possessed a new swagger.  The swagger of men who’d lived through tough hand to hand combat and came out victorious.  This swagger conflicted with the looks of concern many of them wore.  They knew that as the new Baronet Atrasin G’shlecc had inherited many new responsibilities.  Many of them had hypothesized that he would be telling them he was stepping down to take up the mantle of the Baronetcy and all that it encompassed.  Many didn’t know, and didn’t want to know.  Bedav and several functionaries from Corusca Bank also joined them.  Driver’s brother shared the same look of trepidation, but for reasons known only to him.

  When everyone was inside G cleared his voice and began, “I’m glad to see you all here today.  We all have been through quite a lot in the last week, and I want to begin by letting the members of Nazgul know how proud I was to be your commander during this last encounter.  You all have shown yourselves to be the finest pilots in the VE and truly deserving of the Captain’s Own.”

  The pilots stiffened a bit, pride rippling thorough their ranks.

  “I also want to thank my brother Bedav Atrasin.  His strength and support have been crucial to me over the years, and most importantly the last few days.  Without him and you all, I would not be here today.  That being said, there are considerations that must be met.”

  A murmur spread throughout the room.

  “As you all know with the passing of my father I am now the Baronet Ratselhof.  With that title comes the directorship of the Corusca Bank and all the duties that are inherent to that position.  These duties directly conflict with my continued service in the Vast Imperial Navy.”

  “Here it comes, “whispered Kane.

  “By tradition and custom I must resign my position in the Vast Empire and stay here to assume the duties of the Corusca Bank.”

  Slasher sighs as he palms an IC20 note into Kane’s hand.

  Waiting a heartbeat, “However, I have never been one for tradition and custom, unless it’s one I’ve created.”

  Puzzled looks waft across the assembled pilots and bank officials.

  “This morning I have officially created The Order of the Ratsel.  My brother, Bedav Atrasin will be the first Knight of that order and the Knight Commander.  Step forward Bedav.”

  Bedav moves to the large open area in front of his brother.

  “Please kneel.”

  Taking a knee, he lowers his head as G’shlecc reaches behind him and takes an object out of an ornately carved box.  He holds the item in front of his face and thumbs a concealed switch.  The blade of his fathers lightfoil sprang to life, humming as its butterscotch blade extends.  G moves the blade downward, stopping centimeters from Bedav’s shoulder and repeating on the other.

  “Arise Sir Bedav Atrasin.”

  Bedav stands and grins at his brother, “Showoff.”

  G winks, “Yep, always like a good show.”

  “What’s happening?” whispers Drac to Slasher, who retorts, “I have no idea.”

  “This, gentlebeings, satisfies the requirement that a noble member of House Atrasin chair Corusca Bank.  Sir Bedav will now act as my agent for all matters pertaining to House Atrasin and the Bank.  I will retain the Baronetcy as the titular head of the House, but relinquish all monies and powers to my brother.  I will be returning to my duties as an Officer of the Vast Empire Navy.

  “Sonofa….,” Mumbled Kane as he passed the credits back to Slasher.

  “One other order of business, I have also moved to purge the memory of our un-mourned uncle from the annals of this house.  The name Alecc Atrasin is forever stained and we have set into motion the strictures of it ever being used again by any member of this family.  Being that my own name is an amalgam of his and others I have met with the local magistrates and legally changed my own name.  In order to no longer glorify the foul man who bore that name and to remember far, far better ones – specifically my Grandfather and Father.  I am now and will from this day forth be known as Geordi Huur Atrasin, the Third Baronet Ratselhof.  Ya’ll can still call me G.”

  Stunned shock covered the room like a blanket.  The Nazzies were at a loss, even Kane.

  “Close your mouths boys, you’ll catch flies.  It’s just a name, I’m still me,” as he hugged Yulia and clapped his brother on the shoulder, “You bank guys, see Sir Bedav afterwards…he’s got the papers, and he wants to see the books.”

  The bank officials scurried from the room, frantically jabbing buttons on their comms to relay the news to the Bank.  The pilots broke ranks and began to talk amongst themselves. 

Stormz turned to G, “/I don’t think I could have given up all that money./”

  Driver smiled, "Whatever do you mean? I just gave up the money associated with the Bank…as Baronet, I’m still loaded. “

  The Wook barked in laughter as G and Yulia headed towards the door, “C’mon guys, I just remembered I have an obscenely large stock of booze, let’s make a dent in it.”

  A roar went up from the pilots, Stormz, and his brother.

  This is what matters, THIS is my family

  He smiled all the way to the bar.

OOC:

Ok, that's it guys! great job.  Awards and Promos will be announced tomorrow at the meeting. Work on the interim story for this week.  New story starts next Sunday.  BTW...2894 words

Epilogue:

Two Days Later On-Board the Atrus;

  Kane's departure had shaken him a bit.  The fact that Kane knew him so little as to think that he orchestrated all that had happened to further his career or to gain control of the House actually hurt him.

  He had considered Kane Ahriman a comrade, and still did.  He'd flown with him and rarely had to hint at pulling rank.  What moved him to this he did not know, but he could see the root causes.

  The Vast Empire had a sickness, and if something wasn't done about it soon, it would become terminal.  They were scant microns from becoming no better than the other warlords, or even Thrawn.

  G knew that he was but a small part of the Vast Empire, but he also knew he'd be able to affect some change from his current position and through his role as Baronet.

  He re-read the recently arrived orders cutting Kane loose.  They didn't get any easier to read after the fourth or fifth time.  They were what they were.  He put down the comm and moved to his desk.  On the chair was the duffel containing a few keepsakes he'd brought back from Ator.  The small tapestry from his father's study would brighten the gunmetal grey of the room, but only one item would truly focus him going forward.

  He gently removed the carved box that had sat on Huur Atrasin's desk for decades.  He ran his hands over it, placed it on his desk and opened it.  Within was his father's lightfoil, now missing it's twin.  He stroked it and closed the lid.

  Two weapons of honor.  One held by a man who understood it, one held by a man who forsake it.  The blood of both flowed in his veins.  He would spend the rest of his career and life ensuring the proper one prevailed.