It may have been another day at an end for Riqimo Pershaw, but it was also another night of paperwork awaiting him.  The man leaned back in his chair as he sipped from his caf cup, wincing at the strongness of something that wasn’t quite caf.  That pick-me-up aside, he cast a casual glance at the far shelf where the automatic stapler rested before smiling and grabbing his manual one to bind some forms for a freshly graduated recruit heading to the 73rd regular battalion.  Technology pshnology, this is safer

How did he end up this way?  He hated paperwork practically more than he hated being shot at, at least that’s what he told himself while behind the desk.  On the field one could argue otherwise, but then even the best men can buckle under fire.  Pershaw was no exception.  Heck he didn’t even like firing back when he was first drafted.  A pacifist forced into service with the regular army, eventually holding out to become a noncombatant medic simply through disobeying a direct order to pick up a pistol at a training firing range.  That took a lot of guts to do, and look where it got him: commanding the very firing ranges that he refused to shoot at.  It wasn’t the irony however.  The real irony was that he managed to get this far most likely because he was a pacifist.  Somehow that made him excel in the army, go figure.

He was a regular medic grunt, only without even a pistol when he started, fixing up folks while avoiding the accusing glances that he was a burden while he refused to carry a rifle, even if he did keep everyone else alive that carried weapons.  And it was being a pacifist that got him into the Stormtrooper Corps.  Deep behind enemy lines while cut off from his unit, he met up with a stormtrooper squad leader also trapped, Gunnery Sergeant David Riley, better known as ‘Buttshot’ Riley.

The entire scenario was a tad bit surreal and he didn’t recall the fine details, possibly due to the drugs he had for his broken leg, but regardless, something about Riq caught Buttshot’s eye, and Riq found transfer papers shortly after they were rescued, putting the man into Buttshot’s command, the Black Rose Squad.

But that’s now ancient history of course, Riq was no longer a lowly Private hauling gear and ducking about everytime he heard blaster fire.  And Buttshot even retired, last he heard, unwillingly, but forcefully retired nonetheless.  His superiors probably managed to figure out he wasn’t worth the pain of keeping on the active rosters.

The door to Riq’s office opened without warning, “Well, look at mister big shot here, came a long way ain’t ya?”

Riq didn’t even bother to glace up, he knew far to well who it was, “Never learned to knock while in retirement, eh Riley?”  A small smile came across the training officer’s face as he heard the unmistakeable tempo of Buttshot’s slightly limping gait moving towards the desk.

“Bah, I’m not retired, I’m just on reserve lists until they have a squad that needs me,” Riq glanced up to see Riley smiling his practically trademark lopsided grin.

“Right, sorry.  Should’ve noted you weren’t actually retired by the fact you still wear your uniform perfectly,” came Riq’s half-witty reply, “What brings you here?  Besides wanting to scare a few recruits?”

Riley’s grin faded away quickly, “I need your help, remember Corporal Gerb?”

Riq knew this was serious simply from the fact this was the only the third time he saw the man without a smile, “Yeah, the guy that got the dishonorable discharge back on Tormar?  He tried to fill your pants with some explosive if I recall.  Why?”

“I need this off the books, Doc.”

“You know I can’t promise that.  I’m surprised a military man like you is even asking me to do such a thing.”

“It’s my family, Cara and the kids...” Riley winced, “They’ve been kidnapped.”

“By Gerb?”

“And a few other guys he apparently tricked to be against me, he even got Private Dosen against me, can you imagine that?”

Riq could actually, but he kept that thought to himself, “And what are they hoping to gain from this?”

“They want my head, I hand myself over to them, they let my family go, but I don’t trust them.”

“Nor do I,” Riqimo nodded, “Alright, I’ll do this off the books, but this erases all my debts to you, deal?”

“Deal,”  Riley threw a salute rather than shake Riq’s outstretched hand, “I’ll even owe you thrice fold.”

“Nah, that’s fine, I rather not have debts to me, I’m calling it even,” Riq similed, Especially not debts from you.

“Here’s my ransom instructions,” Riley slide a datapad onto Riq’s desk, “I’m to report to the old Kaison shuttle depot the Corps used to use, in four hours.”

“I’ll have a team by then of people I trust,” Riqimo slid a comlink back to Riley, ”You just prep yourself, and keep in touch, got that?”

“Yes, sir,” came the practically military issue reply and salute as Riley clicked his heels and spun about a full 180 degrees to leave the room.

A facepalm soon followed as Riq saw the slightly charred rear of Riley’s uniform, followed shortly by a dive behind the desk as the door was slammed a tad bit too hard, knocking the automatic stapler to the ground.

As he cowered behind the desk waiting for the stapler to run out of ammunition, he pulled a staple out of his shoulder and ruffled his hair to shake any out.  Score is Stapler 3, myself… 0… dammit

By the time silence filled his office, he had already hit sent for the data message that was sent to a select few.

OOC:

Classified: Level 2.
Subject: Training Exercises Mission, *Immediate*
Recipients: #$@!Ais#^$(w%%#w() (5a4#%$wp14//Data line corrupted//
Sender: Captain Riqimo Ray Pershaw, Commander of Training

\\BODY START\\
Your superiors have an excuse for your absence for this mission, of which you are being called in for training exercises.  They are not cleared to know the actual contents of this.

You will be engaging in a priority mission, of which time and precision is of the essence, details will be provided at an actual briefing.  Civilian clothing, lower class, concealable weapons and armor only.  Provide one rifle of choice, keep it disassembled, or in a bag if possible.  If medic, pack your kit in a backpack instead of your case.

Be at the Frolic Jawa Cantina in Sianat city at midnight (2 hours from now), back booth.

Your datapad will enter binary decay after 10 minu02*t(@658/es{]# of ope%@g th*@R@s messag092r@(
@DS()@@#LT%#_!@!#
!$@
R#R
#
TR
# %R%TR #Q%R
Q RW#R#RFNQ#V)(RMB<
N#@BT^WM)itfva3nb5mv,=93me\wnj ()@@#LT%#_!@!#
!$@
R#R
#
TR
# %R%TR #Q%R
Q RW#R#RFNQ#V)(RMB<
N#@BT^WM)itfva3nb5mv,=93me\wnj fmw36bqq3 3W-9TRM)VN9c80qmv8n50au9c-3wa 8y*&U(#I)TEU(GIJOKTIU(JGT#

DATAPAD CORRUPTED.  PLEASE CONTACT MANUFACTURER.

OOC:

So, minimum 250 words, maximum 600, from here onwards.  Not gonna bit your head off if you go a bit over 600, but remember folks gotta read fast enough to post

And just because it's awesome

There is a first time for everything. She pushed the buttons on her datapad to try to understand the directions she had found for the Frolic Jawa Cantina in Sianat city. It seemed like forever since she had visited the city, between missions and paperwork she never seemed to have time to herself anymore.

Havock kept having to re-adjust her backpack with her medical supplies. It was the first time she had to pack them in a sack like that and she must have done it two or three times before she was sure the contents wouldn't be damaged on  the short speeder bike trip to Sianat city. She still felt like she had a lot to learn about being a combat medic, but given the fact that she was typically the one getting injured it just made sense.

The black bag was slung over her shoulder and across her chest. She had to wear civie clothes according to the cryptic message she received earlier, so she had on a tight black shirt with a olive jacket and cargo pants. Her trusty twin DE-10 blasters were hidden on her waist by the jacket. Havock had her hold out blaster on her right ankle and her combat knife attached to the left. A girl could never be too prepared.

She smirked as she climbed on her 74-Z Speeder Bike. She had been working on modifying some of the systems when she became SL of RAIDERS and suddenly had more paperwork than she ever thought possible. At least she had been able re-paint the thing black with a few red stripes. Still not perfect, but it was a work in progress.

Havock hit the throttle and zoomed towards the city. The open air was nice, it had been far too long since she just took one of her speeders out for a spin. She had two speeders so far and a couple of ships. Havock enjoyed repairing things and liked to do that during her very infrequent free time.

Arriving in the city proper, she weaved through the streets ignoring the various curses she got from the pedestrians in the street. She did like to drive fast, something that her friends like to joke was the reason they never let her drive.  The 74-Z skidded as she pulled in front of the cantina.

Yanking off her helmet, she could see an older woman shake her head in disapproval at Havock then continue walking along the busy street. The bar looked a bit slummy, but then again the city still looked pretty awful after the attacks. The words “Frolic Jawa Cantina” were displayed above a lit entrance.

She tied her hair up in a pony-tail as she walked through the doors and made her way up to the bar. Havock ordered a corellian ale and, after eying the back booth, settled in to wait.

"I told him not to pester me on my day off" Kanderin snarled, tossing his comlink at the closest wall to himself. A few people around him turned to stare but he dismissed them all with a wave.

"I took this stupid job so I have a nice cushy relaxation...thing." He continued ranting to his table. "And what do I get? A fricking promotion and a boss that throws orders at me every five minutes"

"Quit bitching already" The girl across from him smiled, lighting what must of been her twentieth cigarette. "I'd kill to have your salary"

"You've already had most of it tonight" He muttered back, downing half his drink like it was poison.

"Put it this way, how often has your paycheck gotten you laid?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question"

The girl smirked as she leaned forward to collect her own drink, before something in her own bag began to ring and she quickly ran off to take the call. Kand took the opportunity to collect his own comlink and re-read the message. He had only managed to catch the sender before tossing it away the first time, he hadn't appreciated it interrupting his favourite war story. It was only such because he actually had proof it was real, of course. The neck scar was, under normal circumstances, a painful reminder of the life he had found himself so desperate to escape. He had other scars elsewhere of course, a pair of cracked ribs from a scuffle back under Arnauts command and strained tendons in a shoulder from a mission as his assistant, but the neck was the closest he had ever come to death. If he remembered rightly, he had actually died, thinking about it. It was a testament more to Helena's incredible skill as a medic that he was alive than his own willpower. The reality was, although he didn't want to die, the dread he expected never showed. He felt strangely ready for it, and even more strangely annoyed it hadn't.

"I have to go" He said as he noticed the girl return to the table.

"Had a feeling you would. I'll cover the tab, you can dash straight away if you want" She responded, digging around in her bag without even looking at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'll pay half. Just scribble your number down on something and I'll call you"

"No need for that, you can just come back here. I'm amazed you've been a regular here for two years and never noticed that I'm always here" She responded disapprovingly.

"I have noticed, I just thought it'd be rude to mention" Kand grinned playfully.

The girl sighed. "Just get out of here already. And look after yourself".

OOC:

Started before Riqimo's post, hence the arrival section.

"What the frak!" Corvin yelled, dropping his datapad as random symbols and nonsense scrolled across the screen. It landed with a clunk, gibberish still filling the screen.

"Wha..." Hassar groggily called from his bunk. One and all, the Blackjacks had been completely exhausted from their last few missions.

"Nothing, Hassar. Looks like I've been assigned to a training exercise."

Hassar had stopped listening before Corvin had finished the sentence.

Looking down at his now-sparking datapad, Corvin sighed, his breath coming out as a long hiss

Kriffing wonderful. How am I going to explain this to Requisiton?

Corvin reminded himself that the damage had been caused by a higher-up. It wasn't his place to ask why Captain Pershaw had decided to do it, just to accept it and obey. Sighing again, Corvin picked up the now blank datapad and dropped it in a carry-on bag. Time to change into civvies, and get his gear.

====

Half an hour later, Corvin was walking down a crowded street in Sianat's centre, surrounded on all sides by civilians walking in every direction. The background hum of chatter was almost deafening, sentients of countless species interacting with each other as they passed along.

The planetary invasion was not yet a month past, and things had already returned to normal. Mostly, that is: every other street had a store that still had barred gates or was vaccant with its windows smashed.

There were other differences, too. Army and civil protection troopers stood at guard on a number of street corners, mostly armed with long barrelled sonic weapons and conducting random searches. Security had become tighter since the first invasion.

Corvin noticed all this as he walked along, scanning the late-night crowd out of a habit embedded through training and a number of missions. Paying attention to one's surroundings never hurt, and his strange feeling of exposure without his armour on only increased the urge.

Most of them were civilians, although there were several uniformed law enforcers standing to the side and monitoring the crowds. It was something that many civilians disliked, but Corvin knew it was necessary. Without a strong Imperial presence, many of Tadath's less savory residents would see the period after the invasion as one of looting and general lawlessnesss. Strength was the only thing they would understand, and the Empire's protection would show that well.

Corvin checked his wrist chrono as he reached a hoverbus station. One and a half units. Plenty of time.

====

Corvin sat through Captain Pershaw's briefing in the front row, listening intently. He barely managed to repress a hiss of surprise upon hearing that their target was a traitorous stormtrooper. For normal Army troopers to desert or turn traitor was bad enough, but the Vast Empire's finest turning renegade?

Corvin felt outrage and shock in equal measure, and was grimly satisfied the Captain had chosen him to participate in the attack. He would be more than happy to bring the traitorous frakkers to Imperial justice.

Blaster bolts are too good for scum like that. Republics and Thrawnists at least have been brainwashed, but this lot don't have any excuses.

Getting up, Corvin threaded his way past the tables in the dimly-lit cantina as he headed for the rear doors.

The overhead glow-panels were a dull green and flickered sporadically on and off. The place stank of stale piss and something Corvin really didn't want to identify. The Frolic Jawa wasn't the sort of place you'd find in a traveller's handbook, nor was it ever likely to be, but at least it was almost deserted. Corvin was simply glad he hadn't arrived early enough to have to buy a drink. He came to the doors and walked through after the Wraith Anival as they were swinging closed again.

The alley smelled even worse than the bar, if that was possible, and was just as dark. Stumbling along the unpaved and narrow gap, Corvin emerged to find himself on a quiet, deserted street. As the Captain had told them, there was a hovervan waiting for them, bobbing up and down. Shrugging, Corvin hefted his bag into it before climbing in himself.

Off we go, then...

Savoring the last bit of her corellian ale, Havock slammed the glass back on the bar and was almost disappointed when the bartender droid had no reaction whatsoever. She shrugged and made her way back to the busy street through the service exit.

She couldn't help but smile at an obviously over-worked and under-appreciated cook who sneered at her as she passed. She could tell he was debating throwing the nerf patty on his spatula right at, what he assumed was just another drunk girl pointed in the wrong direction. She resisted the strong urge to wave to the greasy man and made her way into a not well lit alley way behind the cantina.

The mission at least was more interesting than a simple training mission as it had been advertised on her odd message from Captain Pershaw earlier. Rounding the corner she spotted the hovervan. It managed to blend in among the random debris and various class of vehicle around it. She climbed through the open entry hatch and took inventory of her surroundings.

A few of the other troopers had arrived, at least she recognized some of the faces on this mission. Havock couldn't imagine ever having a reason to do betray someone in the army with her. She found it so unprofessional, it just spurred her on to do her best this mission. She wondered who they had kidnapped, if it was a kid she may just loose that cool. Kidnapping kids just hit her way too close to home. Havock had been kidnapped as a child, she didn't even remember her family. No one should have to grow up like she had.

Havock took a seat towards the front of the hovervan, knowing that once it was moving she was just going to get up and get her flashbangs and ear piece. HA, flashbangs! She wasn't about to tell anyone here that the last time she tried to use any kind of explosion, it...didn't end well.

She leaned back in the chair and felt the van shake as the vehicle powered up. It wouldn't be long now  before they would be underway.

The van was comfortable enough, although silent, a Zabrak had fallen asleep and some of the troopers were making idle chatter. Anival was fueled by sugar and adrenaline, which made it impossible to sleep, or rest. Instead he stood up, walked towards the flash bangs, took four, then grabbed the earpiece. The temptation to mess with the settings chewed away at Anival, but he knew now was not the time to indulge curiosity.

Anival sat back down, feeling the shudders of the vans movement. The trip seemed to be taking an eternity, and the shushed tones of the vans occupants made the scene even more surreal. A sigh escaped his lips, as he laid back.

Anival was in the mood for conversation, his mind wondered to the known, somebody he knew , Ron, Kand, Rykin, Helena and Bacredi came to mind first, but they were all engaged in either with themselves or somebody else, next his mind defaulted to sight, he vaguely remembered seeing two others, so he smiled and tried to sound as pleasant as possible, in contrast to the anxious mess he was inside.

“Hello.”

“Hi”

“My name's Anival.”

“Havock.” she responded.

“Raiders correct?” asked Anival trying to guess where he had seen her before.

“Yep, and you?”

“Wraith.” he responded proudly.

The van stopped abruptly and its klaxon sounded, followed by an obscenity, some of the flash bangs fell down, Anival flinched, expecting to be blinded, fortunately none of the flash bangs exploded. Someone scuttled to pick them up and but them back, securing it better this time.

“What did you bring?” he asked absently, mentally trying to gauge the firepower they had collectively brought.

“Two DE-10's”

Anival nodded, they had all apparently obeyed orders, they were, after all, stormtroopers. He had silently hoped someone would disobey and bring a rifle or something along those line.

“You?”

“DL-54”

Riqimo glanced back over his shoulder when heard a feminine voice ask out, "Who was kidnapped, Riq?"

Riq knew he wouldn't be able to entirely evade this question judging from the silence in the back of the van, "A retired stormtrooper squad leader's family.  His wife and two kids.  I owe the guy a favor, to say the least."

Riq turned the ignition off as he glanced back, "It's a long story, and this operation doesn't leave this group, got it?"

The seriousness of Riqimo's glare got the point across that this mission might as well be official.  It was coming from one of the High Command anyways, so technically it could be argued as such, just off their official records.

"Anyways," he reached into the passenger seat for his pistol before sliding into a shoulder holster, "We're going in, if anyone finds you, you're to act as gang members, if you have any thing that identifies you as who you really are, leave it in the van.  The police should soon be preoccupied elsewh..." a soft rumble from far away cut him off, "Correction, are preoccupied elsewhere.  Don't worry, no one's hurt, just collapsed a building that was scheduled for demolition tomorrow a tad bit ahead of schedule."

"You guys got your teams," the flash of Riq's sai as he removed it from the sunvisor caught the eyes of everyone in the back, "I don't know exactly what awaits us in there, so stay on your guard.  Three man teams will check the storage areas, my four man team will be checking the offices, other four man gets the shuttle storage bays.  Got that?"

Though Bright heard everything that Riqimo had said, her mind lingered on the fact that he had said two children were among the kidnapped. Relying on the training she had received as a child to keep her outer countenance as calm and emotionless as possible, Bright could feel that invisible mask fall over her. Inside however she could feel her anger turn to rage.

She watched quietly seething, as everyone exited the van. She herself was ready to exit, had she not noticed Havock. The look in the other woman's face mirrored Bright's internal rage. The quick conversation between the two helped Bright to calm herself enough to focus on the tasks at hand.

Jumping out of the vehicle before Havock, Bright made her way around to the back and picked up an In-ear comlink, putting it in her left ear. With that done and checking to see if the flash bangs were secured with her annihilators, Bright headed to stand with those she'd been assigned.

"You have to be Brightstar." One of the troopers said stepping forward with an outstretched hand. Bright took it and shook.

"This is a fact." She said. "I hope you boys are ready."

They all nodded and the red headed woman analyzed the shadows that could be best use to their advantage. Spotting an area relatively free of light, Bright swung her bag on her back and began her climb up and over the fence, much like a cat.

Everything was quiet. Not that Havock expected it to be a bustling place they were going to. But for some reason these more stealthy assignments always got to her nerves faster when it was quiet like this. The last thing any of them needed was her being jumpy, and blowing their cover over a lost rodent.

Jaenna and Joamer had taken up the rear of their little group, leaving Havock and Riqimo on point. They were making there way to the main offices towards the north western most part of the compound. Apparently, as Riqimo informed her, there were also two more smaller office buildings they would need to quickly sweep before they were done.

“Wouldn't this move a bit faster if we split up?” They were just about to pass the last storage building before reaching the tall office structure.

Riqimo knelt down next to the building and scowled at Havock. “We are staying together for now Sergeant.”

Havock looked down and nodded at her superior. “Yes sir.”

The office lobby was dark and smelled of dusty old flimsy. The floor creaked with every step they took, years of debris scattered across the once busy room. Havock had to light a glow rod to make out the shadowed shapes in the lobby. The others had spread out around the room, Riqimo was inspecting the desk towards the center of the room. She walked up to him and pointed to the far corner. “Stairs.”

He nodded and they made there way to the second floor. The stairs were solid and not as noisy as she expected them to be. For some reason she felt like the whole complex should be teeming with ghosts along with the rolling dust bunnies.

The second floor was a long hallway with a dozen or so doors on either side. The first few rooms were in disarray, either the last person to work there had left in a hurry or these rooms had already been looked over for something.

Havock put her hand on the next door and slowly opened it, a small figure squeaked and ran towards her. She slammed herself back into the opposite wall to quickly get out of its way, pulling her DE-10's at the same time. Luckily, Riqimo saw it with a more clear head and pulled his combat knife stabbing the womprat in the back of the head as it crossed the threshold of the door.

“Jumpy there Hav?” He raised his eyebrow to look at her as she tried to forcibly slow her heart rate down. She slowly put her blaster pistols back in their holsters and tried to save some of her dignity.

After the small order-like briefing Doc had given them Anival assembled with his allotted group.
A Zabrak and Human.

“Whats your name Zabrak?” asked Anival in an indifferent tone.

The Zabrak gave him a look. “Hassar”.

“Jager.” responded the human before Anival could ask him.

“I'm Anival.”

After the smalltalk they all took out their weapons, scanning their weapons Anival unholstered his pistol. It would be a shame if he was caught unarmed. They stalked under the cover of shadow, barely making a sound, the exception was the occasional grunt when one of them stopped abruptly, and caused a collision.

“In there, just a bit more” whispered Jager signaling the building out.

They walked the rest of the way without any more blunder.

“You first Zabrak.”

“Its Hassar” he hissed.

“What ever.” shrugged Anival with indifference.

Hassar walked up and checked the door it was locked.

“Now what?”

“Hold your horns.” replied Anival reaching in to a bag around his neck, he took out a small wad of gray clay-like materail, and broke a small piece off. Anival walked over to the door and placed the small piece of clay into the keyhole.

“Step back” warned Anival picking up four pea-sized rocks.

Anival took aim and threw the first rock, it clinked above the door harmlessly, and again, the third throw hit the detonite and it blew quietly. They walked again to the door and opened it. The interior was dark, and musty, crates and boxes aligned the walls, sighing they started the search.

Rykin crept along behind Brightstar, Bacredi following him, and Madman picking up the rear. In his right hand was his Annihilator, in the left the grenade launcher, trained upward but at the ready, just in case. Brightstar lead well, crouching through the shadows while backed up by three troopers, one of whom Rykin trusted with his life. About halfway through the open, Rykin heard a rustling and a small crash at about 3 o'clock, and Rykin was on the scene, both his weapons at the ready. He squinted into the darkness, and couldn't perceive any threat, so he checked his guns and continued after Brightstar, resuming his quiet.

Their in-ear comlinks remained silent the whole time, but Rykin was sure he heard a small explosion in the distance. He shrugged it off.

Maybe Ani and his damned detonite, he thought bemusedly, unable to hold back a small chuckle which earned him a look flashed from Brightstar, the black bandana unable to hold back some of her shocking red hair.

Mirrors her temper I bet, he thought again, biting his lip as to not react audibly.

The rest of their creeping was done in silence, the only sounds being he occasional scuffling, scurrying movements of a womp rat and the sound of their own feet: Brightstar's gentle, hurried footfalls, the slightly heavy tread of Bacredi's shoes, and the steady pace set by Madman and Rykin's booted feet. As they reached their target, the shuttle storage bay, they divided: Rykin and Brightstar went left, while Bacredi and Madman went right to flank the entryway. Wraith's crisis management training abounded in the two Wraith troopers, and they each flanked the door, their backs against the wall as they peered with their peripheral vision into the bay, and both signaled to each other and the other two members of the team that their way was clear to investigate, so far as they could see.

Of all the people, he had to get paired with the one guy who had decided a Grenade Launcher was the most appropriate for the delicate nature of their…assignment. However the night had been well, free drink though Madman had personally avoided Alcohol because he’d seen more than a fair share of the negativity that liquor created…more so than the inebriation that it spread.

Garbed up in a sound bit of gear, a tattered and lengthy overcoat with a baggy shirt while fitting a large pair of yellow goggles that reflected the glinting of various small, flickering lamps, some which still illuminated the ID numbers of the various Warehouses or storages, however in this wreck of a place, storage owners hardly cared for the upkeep of such lit-up labels, and such often benefitted from the lack of…witnesses. In this case, kidnappers were beneath the very rouse of suspicion from the oh-so effective planetary security and like always it would take a team of Storm troopers to end the mediocrity.

“Well there they go…” Madman muffled beneath a muffler with a breath mask as a sharp inhale sent a soft hiss as the air was forced into a harsh decontamination progress – one could never be TOO careful, could they. Madman took point behind, however he had little to mind, he looked little more than a strangely garbed hobo in mercenary arms, if it were the target they would hardly suspect the ingrain Storm trooper training as he fastened the dark hood over his head to  hide the entirely shaved head.

"Hehh…well I should keep up.” Madman would reply to himself, amused as he finally lit up with fascination as the thick of things were no doubt coming forth to a beginning, he could feel his back stiff with anticipation as he managed to set aside this feeling…were it fear, he was unaware of it. Situationaly, Madman had been ‘kidnapped’ to a degree, however there was never a ransom note and he never really stayed there too long…just half of his life he only knew servitude to the cruel Tusken Raiders.  Buildings at times turned to dunes for brief moments as a bleak vision of light would confirm that he was not dreaming, that he was no longer on the planet of dunes, but that he was in fact with a troop of Storm Troopers on their way to ammend the mistake of a traitor.

By all the will in his sinews, He’d find his way to the Exile and punish him for the justice of his tribe…Taking point at the flank, he’d turn to spot several straggling street-stalkers, slipping back to peek at the strangers in their homes. Several clicks slid forth from the LAR, setting it to Semi-Automatic as he popped the Bull-Pup Iron-Sight handle up, clicking and locking to place.

Though just before any more strange thoughts would spread forth over the strange member's mind, the rushing into a warehouse would startle  and bring his mind to a sharp focus and in mere moments, so would the keen edge of a knife penetrating and damn-near halving the poor, daft creatures mind in two "Talk about a splitting headache...hey, sure yeh' didn't take a placebo or somethin'?"

Bright and the rest of her team made their way through each open level of the shuttle storage bay. Though there was activity evident everywhere they looked, this place looked more like whoever had been here had used it more for just whatever supplies they could find.

The second level, though open to the rest of the bay, had a rather nasty nest of more whomprats. Bright and the rest dealt with them as quietly as possible, but she couldn't help that some of them preferred shooting to straight out gutting or stabbing.

The third and last level open and accessible to engineers and what ever else smart enough to get up this far, appeared to have seen a lot of activity as well. There was less dust up here, but it still looked to have a least a few days gathering from the last visit. Bright looked down at the two older class shuttles that had been left behind when the place had closed. Either they had been in various states of repair, or they had been tearing them down.

"There's nothing else up here, Sergeant." Bacredi said coming up beside her and looking down at the two semi disassembled shuttles.

"Did any of us check those?" Bright asked.

"I don't remember checking them." Madman said, and even though he could be heard clearly, Bright still got a sort of muffled feeling from him.

Without much more than a silent agreement the four of them made it back down to the ground level and began their search of what remained of the shuttles. They of course found nothing.

"What now?" Rykin asked as he tossed a few disconnected wires behind him.

Bright tapped her ear comm. "Riqimo, this is Bright. We've got nothing in the shuttle bay. A few whomprats and it looks like recent activity but its still a few days old." She looked around them again. "We await your next orders."

"Get down!" Riq practically managed to shout while still whispering between his teeth.

As everyone hit the tarmac of the parking lot, Riqimo was already rolling over towards a large pothole, "There's a vehicle coming, keep your eyes open.  It's probably the retired trooper."

Lights from the speeder glazed over the pothole as the team pressed firmly down even more.  Soon as the light moved on, their heads popped out and scanned the buildings.

"Everyone, this is Doc, the ransom is on the premises, stay sharp," came a whisper in everyone's comlink before Riq swapped to a private channel to Buttshot.

"Yo Riley, see anything yet?"

"Nope Doc, don't even see you guys, which is quite reassuring in a strange wa...urh!"

Riq darted up quickly, running towards Riley who was pulling himself under the speeder, "Everyone move, two in the offices near the gate, not sure if there's more, MOVE!"

With a perfect slide, perfection excluding some nasty scratches from the tarmac, Riqimo was soon under the sppeder with Buttshot.

"HE SHOT ME IN THE ARSE! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!" came the reply that was quite familiar to Riq, and was all he need to hear to know Riley was alright... in his strange ways of being alright.

"Just let me slide some bacta.."

"No, I'm going to make him kiss it better, gimme that pistol!" Riley wrenched the weapon from Riq's hands and fired a few shots blindly at the office building before making a mad limping dash for the doorway about 200 feet ahead.

Sighing, Riqimo pulled the holdout blaster from his boot and followed after.  How he has yet to die yet I'll never be able to figure.

Havock slammed into the side of the office building she could see Riqimo slide under the speeder with another figure. She pulled out both DE-10 blasters and peered around the corner to the main entrance of the smallest of the office buildings. The building was two-stories tall and looked to be in the same state of dis-repair as the other buildings they had already explored today.

She could hear heavy footsteps running up what sounded like stairs in the office. She preferred this to sneaking around, getting to the point, and finding this mans family. Havock wanted to make these men pay, but it was more important to find the children unharmed. Gods help them if they were already harmed.

Shots coming from under the speeder towards the building drew Havock's attention, then a man limping and holding his butt ran towards the entrance. She blinked and watched him with a raised eyebrow.

Once the shock of that sight wore off, she took off running following Riqimo into the building. They both dove behind a table as the other man kept yelling and shooting randomly. “I think they are upstairs. And now I kinda hope they are upstairs.”

“Yea, we should probably make sure Riley doesn't get himself killed. Starfruit, Joamer cover us!” They jumped up running towards the man with the pistol. The three of them fell against the wall next to the stairs. The blaster fire finally silenced, Riqimo crept up the stairs first, followed by Riley with Havock taking up the rear.

At the top of the stairs was a door, which apparently was locked. Riqimo was pressed up against the door with Riley prepared to burst through. Havock stayed on the last step to cover them both. With a final nod the door was burst open and Riley ran through his blaster raised.