War was not a strange thing to Snipes, in fact it was something he came to long for; but war was not the only aspect of life, nor was it waged on empty coffers. Snipes, in his role as the mad pirate king, found himself standing triumphantly atop a small cliff, a bare few hundred feet from the ground, watching the torrent of water spill helplessly over to crash down on an otherwise tranquil pool.

Snipes inhaled deeply, taking in the scents of the untamed forest. Trees reached into the heavens like so many thousand spear heads, vines twisted around the ancient evergreens, multicolored leaves and flowers stuck from the vines, threatening to take over the life of the ancient behemoths. Life teemed everywhere, birds could be heard and seen high above, small animals could be heard scurrying about, in the distance the faint presence if larger predators could be felt more than seen, most of the large animals having with the unknown presence of the pirate and the arrival of his ship.

Snipes reflections were broken by the emergence of Fury, the great gurrcat that accompanied the former first sergeant, through the underbrush, some manner of small, furry mammal clasped in it's teeth, the still warm blood dripping off the animals face. Snipes sighed, kneeling down and patting the animal on the head.

"Well; old friend, I think it's time to make our appearance" the gurrcat just leaned into the pat, closing it's eyes contentedly.

Snipes made his way down a long series of winding steps cut out if the stone of the cliff, leading with each switchback closer to an out cropping half way down the face. Once a person stepped in the outcropping they were left with the choice of returning the way they came or venturing into the dark behind the waterfall. Snipes smiled, one could not help but being gripped by apprehension at that vital moment, stepping into the darkness and unknown footing.

Snipes took the step with the grin in place, finding the footing much steadier than it appeared from the outside, it only took a few steps of faith before he entered into the nook in the rocks where dim lighting prevailed against the heavy handed darkness of the caves, ethereal blue glowlamps lined the path to follow, keeping travelers from wandering an infinite maze of caves and caverns, the cave was probably wide enough for four people to walk side by side, but because of the stream running down the middle there was just enough room on each side for a person or a group to walk single file. The path followed the stream, the only sounds other than the brook were the steps of Snipes boots against wet stone, the soft and almost imperceptible padding of the gurrcats feet, as well as distant rumblings from the off shooting tunnels, hinting at creatures not bold enough to venture into the light.

As the tunnel twisted on a faint glow, quite unlike the artificial light of the glowlamps teased the pirate from a distance, until finally he emerged into the green grass and bright sun of the other side. It was a shock to the eyes, but after a few moments they adjusted and he could behold the full splendor of the area.

The cave let out of a large out cropping of stone at the end of an clearing in the planets tall woods, around it in the lighty wooded areas series of wooden terraces were raised from the ground and the stream winding it's way through the middle of a valley. Steep rocky hills and mountains kept the area secluded, snipes knew that the hidden paradise was invisible from the air unless seen from the right angle.

People were gathered in the terraces, light music played from an unseen string instrument as those gathered collected under the shade of the large branches overhead, finding refreshment from the bar nearby or one of the dozens of lithe wait staff roaming the terraces; the local’s were a peaceful and delicate looking people, backwards in technology but pleasant and far from unaware that there was a galaxy outside their clear blue sky. They dwelled in the forest, a branch of mankind probably originating from a long lost expedition, living in harmony with nature and of simple means; they were excellent hosts.

Their delicate bodies moved among the crowd with an eerie grace, almost hypnotic in it’s nature, they seemed to exude a feeling of calm that Snipes found very refreshing compared to the constant state of near panic his city in the dark maintained.  Snipes found the entire place a sharp contrast to his shadowport, all green, natural, calm and peaceful, filled with decent people; compared to the durasteel and concrete and mad intoxication of his city.

Snipes found himself a seat one of the terraces, at a wicker table in a wicker chair, he draped the long, rich blue jacket around the back of his chair and threw himself into it, feet on the table. He lit a cigarra, and puffed at it with no particular hurry. He was clad as he always was, more or less, silk longsleeve shirt, brown vest, brown pants, a new and bright red sash, under which his gunbelt ran, a black and over oiled dressbelt, it’s ornate designs and freshness clashed with the simple and well worn shotgun it held, much as the new tailored clothes clashed with the well worn boots, so well worn that no amount of grease and polish could turn them entirely black again.

Snipes watched the people around him with mild interest, he knew some, others were new faces; collections of politicians, military officers, and well, men of enterprise.  Snipes liked the peace of the Imperial Ball, it was one chance for all the military to relax, he may no longer have been part of the organization for which he held the ball, but he remembered his time serving, it had been a long and hard time, but he remembered it fondly, as he did the early Imperial Balls thrown, he knew how much it meant to be given a time to relax.

Snipes glanced sidelong at the snow capped mountains in the distance, from which the brook flowed, from the steam rising he knew a hotsprings was out there, high up the mountains, and perhaps that would be a place to wander in time, but for now there was no reason to hurry; he ordered a Coronet Iced Tea and waited for his friends to appear, the people he knew and had not seen for some time; quests in the unknown regions of space having filled his life of recent; oh the tales he had to tell; he smiled faintly, it was good to have friends.

The soft sound of music being played from her modified Comlink made Helena smirk as she opened up her walk in closet. Stepping into it, she found herself falling over a mound of clothes sloppily placed on the floor. With a loud oomph, she hit what felt like a belt into her hip. Rubbing her bruised bone, she elegantly brushed herself off and made her way to the vintage ball gown section. She’d saved up for years on these dresses and never managed to find an occasion to wear half of them.

The array of colours glared back into her sky blue eyes, making them squint slightly. Pushing back the rail, she flicked through the various numbers, giving each a mark out of 10 with advantages and disadvantages. She then finally came to a small, petite looking dress. Emerald green in colour with a black netting underneath, just showing out from the bottom. The neckline then contained various lines of  Swarovski crystals, twinkling whilst caught in the light.

Moving herself backwards out of the closet, making sure not to trip over the pile of clothes, she grabbed a pair of matching shoes and a shawl which was made from a soft wool. A good half an hour later after showering and drying her hair and such, she began getting changed into the dress. It slid down her curves, and hung neatly on her body, whilst the shawl was wrapped around her shoulders in order to keep her warm. Her shoes however were the highest things known to man, but she was willing to take a risk on such an occasion. It wasn’t as if it was going to make her overly tall with her 5’2” structure. A devilish smirk rolled across her lips as she made her way to the dresser and pulled out the drawer to be greeted with her dust angel. Raising it to her lips, she kissed it and wrapped it’s holster on her right upper thigh and placed it back in it’s home. Luckily the dress covered it well.

A loud knock at her room door caused her to jerk and throw her necklace onto the bed. Rushing to the rude guest in her heels she pulled the door open in a huff.

“Yes?” She sounded, putting an ear ring in.

“Your transport is here miss. I’ll tell them to wait.” The droid replied with a quick beep and hurried off.

The medic sighed, why the hell was she always rushed for time eh?

Putting on the last remaining jewellery items and finishing touches to her now neatly pinned up hair, she made her way out of the door. The journey literally took a few minutes from the barracks, but journeys bored Helena greatly. If the world was without journeys it would be a better place, plus the transport wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it would do on such short notice. She wasn’t even sure she was going until a few hours previous. Pulling up at the cliffs, she bit her lip slightly. This was going to be interesting…

Her heels were killing her by the time she’d made her way up to the cliff, and doing it alone made her feel weird. It was the first time she’d be entering a ball alone, something she was definitely not used to. She was normally hanging off someone’s arm. Shrugging her shoulders and sighing, figuring it was going to be a bore for her this time, she smiled to the few guests sitting down at their seats.

The bar seemed unoccupied as she pulled up a stool, the ghostliness would soon shatter, she hoped.  The bartender gave her a quick nod as she ordered a Savareen Brandy. He returned with a crystallised glass with the brownish liquid held within it and a napkin delicately placed on the bottom for decoration purposes. Bringing it to her pursed lips, she smelt the strong aroma before allowing it to spill into her lips for it to dance around her taste buds.

Turning to see the other people she vaguely knew, she managed to pull a soft smile.

Zeshaun woke up in his room, it was dark but as soon as he pulled the shades up the floor was bathed in light from the sun. He squinted his eyes, they had not yet adjusted to the bright light yet, and he moved to a darker room, the kitchen and popped something in his microwave and turned on his holoprojector. Zeshaun flipped through channels until he found the news, he grabbed the food from the microwave, poured himself a glass of smoothie and sat down at the table and started to eat.

“… And welcome to another great day here on Tadath,” The news anchor said. “And we’d like to wish everyone a happy holiday.”

Zeshaun looked up at the TV, and then looked at his calendar. He hung his head for a moment, remembering what he had to do today. not the frackin’ imperial ball again. Zeshaun quickly finished his breakfast and went to his room to find the suit that he had received from the people at the YFC. He found it neatly hanging in the back of his closet; he took it out and laid it on his bed looking it over before taking it out of its protective plastic wrap. It was still early but Zeshaun felt the need to prepare early so that he wouldn’t be late to the part, he didn’t particularly enjoy the parties but he didn’t want to be rude to the host’s. He also called into the hangar and asked his crew to prepare one of his TIE’s so that he could leave immediately upon arrival to the hangar. He finished setting up and still half the day to wait. He decided to go out into town to grab some groceries along with a nice pin of some sorts that he could wear with his suit.

After coming back to his room, it was nearly time to leave. He hoped that he could find some of his squad mates or a few old friends that he could hang around for the night so that he would not have to spend the time watching people mingle. He took a quick shower and put on his suit, it was a little tight around his shoulders, the tailor had not compensated for his scaly broad shoulders but other than that it fit alright. He placed a nice pin with his tribal emblem on the breast pocket and then left his room, locking the door and heading toward the hangar. Upon arrival, his crew greeted him and as requested his TIE/int was all ready to go. Zeshaun thanked them and hopped into the starfighter, he started up the engine then he left. There was actually no need to use a star fighter since the party would be held here on Tadath but he didn’t particularly enjoy the ride of a shuttle and incase anything happened he wouldn’t be defenseless. He also checked his inside pocket to make sure he had his trusty machine pistol.

The ride to the party was rather uneventful, and he decided to take a quick detour around to the country side to see what was happening around there. He saw a cluster of other shuttles and speeders in a clearing and found his own spot a bit further away from the larger group, not wanting to be stuck in any traffic at the end of the day. He got out and began to walk, Zeshaun wished he had thought of bringing some boots, his nice shoes gathered dirt and grime as he walked along the forest floor. The entrance to the party was behind a large waterfall, he couldn’t help but stand and marvel at the magnificence of the entrance before he went inside. The inside was just as nice, using a cavern as the party venue was very creative and Zeshaun was actually happy that he had come this year, it was a nice change of pace from the city that he usually had to live in. He preferred the country side but as a soldier, that wasn’t going to happen. He entered the party and headed directly toward the bar, his throat was parched from the ride over and although he wasn’t a big fan of alcohol he knew that the bar always had some kind of fruity concoctions that he rather enjoyed.

I really shouldn't go.

Over the past few days, Saphira, had said that to herself, and a few others. In the end, Lucky, had managed to convience  her to attend. Only by the skin of her teeth did that even remotly work. It didn't mean she still didnt have her doubts.


"Look at it this way. If you don't go, it might look bad that a Squad Leader didn't attend. Besides,  if you don't... I'm sure one person would miss you."

Lucky's words had irked her to no end! There would be others from the squad representing  Iron Horse. Yet, the women had a point. Everyone would be there and it wasn't like she had a social problem. So, with a sigh, Saphira had gone out and bought a dress for the occacion. Not wanting to be the only one left behind, she had sighed and spent the credits she would have rather used on weapons.

"Well, I doubt anyone would honestly miss me. Least of all madman." Sighing. Lucky had smiled when she mentioned Madman. It seemed that everyone had kept hinting something about them two. Shaking her head, Saphira finished getting ready. If she was going to go to the ball; she would go in style. Having chose a little black dress.

It was strapless, v-shaped down to give a hint of clevage. Hugging her chest and hips gently as the bottom flowed out ever so gently to show the small dimonds that were on the ends of the dress.  With matching heels and a silver necklece that rested a snowflake on the end, she left the room and headed to the ball.

The ride over didn't take that long. At least it didn't seem as long witht he way her nerves were firing.  With her heels tapping gently on the paved stone, Saphira joined the party. Many she didn't know and would avoid so not to make a fool of herself. Though, it would be hard seeing as a few heads turned to raise an eye at her. Grumbeling to herself, Saph saw Lucky sitting by herself with a drink in hand. Giving a smile, she walked over towards her. Eyeing Rizzit  as she passed by the man to give him one of those smiles that would be questioned for an answer.

“Of All these people, I believe you are the only one I am happy to see. Scent is another matter, but I assume it’s all part of tradition.”

Those words and they way they were said only belonged to one person. Saphira had turned around to see MadMan before her and without her mask. If it wasn't for the fact she could hide her composure, she would have had her jaw anchored tot he floor. Not being used to seeing the man out of a uniform, much less without his mask on. He was indeed good looking.

"Well, you clean up well."


Saphira responded as her lek flickered casually. She had ignored the part of him referring to scent. Finding it mildly annoying more people started to show up.

"Would..Would you care to join Lucky and I for a drink?" Saphira asked in a soft voice. Giving him a partial smile as she offered him to follow her. Her face heated in embarrassment and it bugged her to no end because of that.

"Saph! Glade you could make it. Wow! That dress looks amazing on you.!" Lucky complemented as she took another sip from her drink of choice.

"Uh.. Thanks.." Replying as she took a seat in the wicker chair. Hands smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. Turning her head to see MadMan walking over she blushed again.

"Is.. Is that MadMan?" Lucky asked with great interest.

"Yes..." Once more embarrassed as Lucky seemed to preen.

"Well, I must say.. He cleans up well and is very -." Lucky began to tease when they were interrupted by Abalar.

"Hey! Have any of you seen Angel?" Abalar questioned.

"Uh, no. Why?" Lucky answered for them both. Saph couldn't have been happier to have the subject change over to someone else.

"Oh, No real reason." Abalar replied, turning her head to scan the crowds for him. Saph snorted as Lucky giggled.

"Riiiight! If there is no reason, then I guess we shouldn't tell you?" Saphira replied. Abalar turned and seemed to blush.

"Uh, I..um..." She babbled. making the women laugh.

"I saw Angel when I first arrived. He was over With Rizzit..hmmmm.. Near the terrace I believe. You might find him over there." Saphira replied with a smile on her lips. No sooner then the words were spoken, did Abalar shuffle off in a hurry.

People were trickling in slowly to the ball, everyone was dressed up and looked almost unrecognizable out of the standard storm trooper uniforms. Havock leaned against one of the wooden railings over looking a brook as it dribbled past in the dim light. The music played lightly through the forest, it was very relaxing to everyone there, except for her.

Havock swatted at the air again. “There are no bugs, hun.” Jaenna smirked and handed her a small glass of corellian whiskey. Which she held up and examined, shaking her head.

“You would think they would make these a bit bigger.” She shrugged and took a sip. “And its a forest, of course there are bugs. Giant, annoying, buzzing bugs.”

Jaenna shook her head and leaned against the same wooden railing. They looked over the crowd silently sipping their drinks for a few minutes. Havock had been looking for anyone from the squad and still had not found even one person from RAIDERS, she was starting to wonder where they were.

“And one other thing, that is not a dress.”

Havock rolled her eyes. “You never said I had to wear a dress, in fact, your exact words had something to do with not giving me a ride if I even thought about wearing my dress uniform.”

She stuck one of her hands in her pocket that was on her beige floor length trench-coat style jacket. Underneath, the trench-coat she wore black boots and dark gray pants with a tight black dress shirt. Havock hated dresses, but this time she was just being a smart ass and she knew it.

Jaenna looked amazing, she did wear a dress, and she did that well. She had drifted off into her thoughts, which lately wasn't a good thing. Jae had been dealing with a ton of stress which had made her retreat into her own mind and even been causing her to be depressed much of the time. Havock knew that she still felt awful about letting everything get to her to the point where she had to step down from being SL. Havock admired her for making that decision, she did what was best for the squad and really what was best for her at the time, but she also knew that it bugged her to no end that she had to do it in the first place.

Havock nudged Jaenna on the shoulder. “Hey.”

She jumped a bit and blinked at Havock. “Sorry, Ayme.” They both smiled a bit, although one of them was more of a concerned smile than actual happiness. “Look who's here.”

It was difficult but she tore her eyes away from Jae to look at the main entrance to the terrace. After they both jumped back from Abalar running past them in the direction of Rizzit and Angel, Havock noticed Brightstar entering the ball. She was looking around the area, probably searching for familiar faces just like they had been before.

“Well, shall we?” Jaenna smirked and they walked over to greet their fellow RAIDER.

OOC:

Revised edition

Everyone had something to hide. The gift of sentience came bundled with the burden of shame and guilt. Most people went their entire lives carrying their secrets. Burying it deep inside and letting it fester away, like a cancer, quietly in the dark. He could see it in the faces of everyone around him. They all held secrets. All of them. No one survived the attacks on Tadath without doing something that would haunt them for the rest of their days. He was no different, except for one thing. Someone had discovered his.

Pensively he dropped smoldering bud of his cigarette onto the terrace, grinding it under foot. It was quiet on the lookout, unlike the main gallery where the majority of the guests congregated. The soft, string laden music drifted from the main deck and on through the valley on moist night breeze, muddled with the feint garble of chatter from the balls guests. Around him, however, the guests on the outlook stood in silence. They were all career soldiers, older gentlemen as well as a few women. Even though it was fairly crowded on the smaller capillary, no one so much as made a whisper. They each carried with them the glazed looks of people who had seen alot, too much some would say. He could only imagine what they were thinking of. Lost friends, defeats, mistakes. It didn't matter.

"Not that I would want to be a bother or anything..." A voice chimed in his ear "but do remember you are on the clock."

  He gave a soft growl as he gently nodded to those around him. Times had changed. In the past the ball was a chance for him to take it easy, a brief respite from the carnage and angst of the field. Now it was all business. No rest for the wicked.

  The evening had been well underway by the time he reached the main terrace. For a night dedicated to the men and women of the Empire, it was the usual affair. Squad mates hung around squad mates. Cadres of officers clustered around tables or ambled about and regaled their companions with their exploits, eventually turning into petty game of one-upmanship, which, if left unchecked, would lead to a scuffle, if it weren't for their escorts, a mixture of courtesans, wives and mistresses. It was comforting to know that the old practice of dueling for ones honour had gone out of fashion, otherwise there would be no one left to command after nights like this.

  Amongst them drifted the catering staff. Graceful as they were, but savage and rudimentary in their lifestyle. Shunning the convoluted nonsense that made up Imperial society for a far simpler existence with nature. It was a wonder that they hadn't been rounded up and sold as slave labour by some of the galaxies more devious individuals. A possible testament to their prowess. Their lithe, slender builds and graceful movements hid what was in all probability a fighting prowess that was to be reckoned with, and even though they seemed calm and content, Jager had little doubt that it could be shed at a moments notice. Not tonight, though. All the same, he kept an eye out for them.

  Something was troubling him, though it took a few seconds to work out exactly what. Not all the staff where natives. Some where... different. They lacked the calm, graceful manner and stood towards the back, generally keeping out of sight. Jager counted three. They were armed. By the looks of things, blasters. Military issue. Concealed inside their lapels, but the signs were obvious. A holster strap peaking slightly, a bulge where their shouldn't be a bulge.

"I don't think your boys get the whole 'discreet' thing" he muttered as he casually rubbed the tail end of fissure that marked the left side of his face. The reply was almost instant,

"Not your concern, now stop procrastinating." The men shot each other looks and repositioned themselves, though it seemed few others had noticed their presence, let alone been questioning it. He wondered who they where really on watch for. It was a dangerous time in this part of the galaxy, and if recent events had shown, it was best to keep a close eye on everyone... be them friend or foe, because one never quite knew what secrets those around them hid.

  With a non-challantness to his step, Jager began orbiting the terrace looking for his mark. He was here with a purpose. A purpose not of his own design, but he had little choice in the matter. The voice in his ear, the armed men, they shared the same purpose. He was plan A, where as they were plan B. The problem being that he doubted anyone knew exactly what plan B was, though he was going to make sure he never had to find out, but just in case he had come prepared as well. A compact, semi-automatic pistol was strapped to the small of his back. Better safe then sorry.

  Faces, familiar and foreign, surrounded him. He could pick a few. Garryll Gates, his previous superior, leant against a safety rail chatting with a Corporal from his squad, a half-finished drink in his grip. The Corporal was clearly dominating the conversation. Above, on the overlooking terrace, the members of Raiders congregated. He was only able to properly identify them because they were his marks old command, a fact which had been covered in his briefing. One of the elite squads. They briefed him on every possible situation that may have come up during the night. They seemed paranoid, a fact which made him paranoid, but he put that down to the build up. Things were much clearer on the ground then in the briefing room.

  He recognized one in particular. An auburn haired female, Sergeant D'Jonoc, she maded it almost too easy to pick them from the crowd. He'd served with her, but never really knew her. Jester squad, back in the days when he was little more then a pretty face in white armor, back in the days when he still had a somewhat pretty face. But that was long ago.

They had described his mark as 'eccentric' in his dress. It would be hard to miss him, but he seemed to allude sight for the moment. He began mentally listing off possible associates. Find his friends and he'd find him. The white haired gunnery sergeant, Solvona, a known associate of his mark, passed within a few feet of Jager, a drink in each hand. His eyes followed. Solvona was a hard man to miss. Taller then Jager with a head of light blonde, almost white hair. A recent promotion had put him into the lower rung of the high command, Middle management, he was also a person of interest to his new superiors. He looked the part, and by the spring in his step he was enjoying the festivities.

  The two had worked together, in the same squad, during the cleanup a few months back, but that was neither here nor there. He was just another face with some history. Like D'Jonoc, like Gates, like his mark. He had no real attachments to them. If it came down to them or him, he'd make sure it was them.

  His hunch had paid off. Sure enough, after narrowly avoiding a collision with an inebriated lance corporal he came to a stop by a table.

There he sat. His mark. The man of the hour. Matthius Battlemont, or simply 'Snipes' as he'd once called him by.

  Brown vest over a long-sleeved shirt of silk, a red sash covering his gun belt, a set of worn boots rested atop the table and a lit cigarra in his mouth. The personification of a folklore pirate of the high-seas. Eccentric only scratched the surface. The last time Jager had seen him, the man was atop a speeder-bike, racing head first off into the distance and leaving himself and the rest of his squad behind in the extraction shuttle. Different times.

  Though he had not simply vanished after what was effectively desertion. According to the briefing given to him, the man had set himself up a sort of pirate armada, with a hidden cove and all, and then all of a sudden he simple vanished from everyone's radar. Like he never existed. Rumors started, of course. Some doubted the man had existed in the first place, others claimed he was probably killed. Pirates where like that. All of it was speculation however.

  Then one day, recently, he simply reappeared. To say suspicions where raised would have been an understatement, to the point where some believed he wasn't the original. A sort of 'in name only' replacement. Of course the people who he now worked for didn't rely soley on wild speculation, so they did some digging. Now they where sure of two things. He was real and he had returned... what they where unsure of was where he had gone, and why.

  So in order to determine the true nature of his return, and to monitor any future actions, his superiors decided that they needed a man on the inside. Someone who could, if said intentions where indeed malicious, give adequate warning of them and if need be... subtract... the man from the equation. It would be a dangerous assignment. Some would say suicidal, being sent to infiltrate such a violent and unpredictable group. More importantly, someone who they had under their thumb. The last thing they needed was another Mooral.

  But they where in luck. They had a patsy, someone who didn't have much to live for and with alot of debt that needed to be paid off. Someone expendable, but capable of getting the job done.

They had Jager.

  With a low groan he rolled his neck around on his shoulder and straightened out the cheap suit that his superiors had dressed him in.

Show time.

Saphira sipped on her drink that Lucky insist that she try. MadMan had seemed to wander off into the sea of people that fluttered about. It was fine by her. With another sip she sat the glass down with a gentle clank, and left her seat to wander around herself. Though, she found herself looking for MadMan as she brushed past a few people who were trying to catch her attention.

"Hey pretty lady.. Come join us!"

"Have a drink!"

"It's a party after all!"


Not even paying attention to the men. They were face she didn't recognise anyway. More likely the more important diplomats and other high end guests that had to be invited.

"Dang it.. Where are you.." Saphira muttered under her breath as the music changed to a more slow dance style.

"Who?" Came a familiar voice. The Twilek spun around to see Lucky had followed her. The shock clearly visible on her face for it made the women smile wider. "You've been scanning the room ever sense MadMan wandered off. Don't deny it. You are looking for him."

This is why I shouldn't have came. Saphira mentally rolling her eyes before answering. "So what if I am? You know how he can be." Feeling her cheeks rise with the heat of embarrassment. It was a clear excuse and Lucky knew it.

"Say what you want Saph. I've seen the way you two have acted." Lucky teased. "Do I need to mention a reminder?"

"NO!! I-I mean. That won't be necessary." Straightening as the most current reminder of what happened before they crash landed on a god forsaken planet in the past. Trying to say something back they were both interrupted by Angel who pushed them aside in a hurry.

"Why won't you stay away!" They caught the words as he tried to steer back into a thicker sea of bodies.

"Uh..." Both women started to say when Abalar came up to them. They didn't need to say a word as to why Angel was trying to avoid her now. Instead, both pointed in the direction he had went. Like a whirlwind, Ablar was off and vanished into the crowd.

“Is that all you got, sweets?”

Havock swayed a little in Jae's direction as she downed another drink. She laughed and eyed the cybernetic hand that was curled up into a ball after Carter's last jab at her. She wasn't drunk in the least but the tall man, Davis, he definitely was beyond tipsy already. He had hit on Bright one too many times for any sane man.

Jaenna was half-hidden behind Brightstar, so the others couldn't see Havock tap the clenched hand of her friend and giving her a 'calm-down' look.

Returning to an upright position she decided to just burst out laughing to keep the drunk show going. Bright just looked at the squad leader like she was a bit crazy before taking her own drink. Havock had to admit, she was impressed by the red head so far. She really could hold her liquor and her calm disposition was a good thing for RAIDERS.

Carter smirked as was about to take his next drink, when a woman in her dress uniform slammed into the table giggling the whole way. He did not look pleased with her at all. “Kent, what the hell is wrong with you woman.” He wiped away some of the whiskey that had spilled on his wrist by the impact.

“Oh lighten up Carter. Yous are sucha party pooper.” She reached over to tweek his nose and got her hand swatted away along with a long glare just before he downed his drink. “Pfft, fine. Let's go girls.”

He continued to glare at the trooper that must have been a member of his squad as she swayed and tripped over her own feet falling into her two equally unstable friends.

“Heh, heh.”

Carter raised his eyebrow and the glare turned to her, but quickly disappeared and changed to a smirk. “Something funny? I think its your turn. And can I say you have some lovely blue eyes.”

Havock could hear the wicker snapping under Jaenna's grip on the back of her chair, which caused her to pause just before she downed the glass. She was about to simply set it back down on the table but at the last minute she pretended to have some difficulty keeping the glass upright. “And can I say, you found some very weak liquor, or hadn't you noticed?”


He scoffed, then the attention turned back to Brightstar. She shot a nervous glance between Havock and Jaenna before shrugging and taking another drink. “Davis?”


They had already gone through at least five rounds at this point, and the tall man who started the whole thing was definitely showing the effects. More troopers had arrived at the Ball. Some of them had taken notice of the crowded table but most were just continuing with their business and greeting friends. There still was a lack of RAIDERS, as far as Havock could tell. Then again her attention had been on the task at hand.

It was through dissaproving eyes that Ron saw himself in the mirror, draped in (what he considered to be) his grungy uncommissioned uniform.  It had been suggested to him a few nights ago that he purchase a new uniform, especially for the ball, but Ron could not honestly justify that to himself.  He hated balls, and the only reason why he ever went to them was because he was expected to go.  As of such, he decided to change into something that he felt was more "suited" for the occasion: a white suit and tie namely.  It was a far cry from the fine look of the uniformed commissioned officers, but he felt it was better than what he had at the moment.  Ron took one more look at himself in the mirror, grunted half-approvingly, and left the room to start up the land speeder.  He didn't want to lose any time, especially since he was already an hour and a half late.

He arrived at the terraced location a bit later than he desired, but even then he still remained seated in the speeder.  He could see couples dancing, and others drinking, he could see the usual snobbery and high class drama that usually went on at these things.  Ron was beginning to dread very much the idea of even walking out of his speeder.  And what started as dread became fear, which became hautyness, which became pride, which became him very well; it was almost as well that he thought of a club and casino that he saw on the way there.  It was almost natural to him, then, that he started up the speeder and backed out the way he came.  And of course, it was completely natural for him to completely skip the Imperial Holiday Ball, to gamble and drink and make love all night, and wake up the next morning feeling rather smug but extremely pleased with himself. 

And well, that's exactly what he did.

Marcus had just stepped out of the shower when his datapad began to buzz and vibrate with such force it almost wobbled itself right off his desk. Picking up the device Marcus read the new message quickly and took in all it had to say. It was from Luckystar, his Assistant Squad Leader, she had invited and given him directions to the Imperial Ball. Knowing he had nothing else to do Marcus sent a reply saying he would be there shortly. Setting the datapad down Marcus looked around his room. He finally had his own, having graduated from the STC Academy with honors Marcus was quickly placed into a squad and given his own room in the barracks. In any case his career as an Imperial Stormtrooper would be off in no time, but it was time to prepare for the ball.

Several moments later found Marcus dressed and ready for the social event. Since he really didn’t have much else to wear he was dressed in his ceremonial dress uniform. He smiled when he saw the man looking back at him in the mirror. He was dressed head to toe in black, the only change in color being the silver buttons on his tunic and the silver of his buckle.

Feeling that there was one thing missing however he went to his closet and looking in smiled at what he was missing. Reaching in he pulled out a similar jacket to the one he wore almost all the time. It was of similar make and material and black as could be, however this one was in much better condition than the other. This was his father’s jacket. His father had given it to him just before he had left for the academy.

Taking one last look in the mirror Marcus decided to leave the service cap behind and tossed it onto his bed. Looking better he felt he had wasted too much time already and quickly left his room and headed for the ball. The trip took longer than he had expected since he had yet to buy his own speeder and the driver was a bit slow. Finally he arrived and following Luckys directions found the stone stairs that led to the tunnel behind the waterfall. Marcus descended the steps with ease, and the color of the stone reminded him of the quarries back home on Ralltiir. At the bottom of the stair Marcus felt that he needed to came his excitement as he had no idea what he was in for. Sticking his hands in his trouser pockets he took a deep breath entered the tunnel.

Marcus was amazed at what he saw when he exited the tunnel and entered the complex where the ball was being held. It was a magnificent sight to see and if he had not kept his mouth in check his jaw would have been wide open and on the floor. Snapping back to reality Marcus quickly made his way to where Lucky said she would be waiting.

It took him a few minutes to get through the crowd but he finally made it. Nodding to the bartender he ordered a Tatooine Sunburn, a rather potent drink he had come to enjoy after many a drinking parties at the local cantina with his crew from the quarry. Drink in hand he walked over to where Lucky was sitting with Saphira Striker, Iron Horses’ twi’lek Squad Leader.

“You caught me at just the right time when you sent me that message, but I do thank you for the invitation.” He said taking a sip of his drink after announcing his presence to the two leaders of Iron Horse.

“Losing your nerves in the thick of things, not something I find comforting in my leader, Saphira.” Madman calmly expressed, or as calmly as he could – he didn’t mind a high body count so long as those bodies were drained of life and breath. Sadly it was not the case, however that was all too evident in the way the talked their throats off. The talking however, from whatever higher powers mercy, had died down to a murmur as some softer music came about – noticeable through the lack of jibba jabbaring voices cutting through the room like a molten hot Vibroaxe through butter.

“Custom dictates slow dancing, does it not?” He’d ask her, in a hushed voice though even so quiet his natural awkwardness seeped to the surface, though he himself had no look of distress or even shyness about him, his face was very firm and unflinching. Could it be that he was implying he might have taken interest? It certainly might have seemed like that, however Madman’s words had scalded into her pride – now she had something to prove.

“Yeah, it does.” Her soft, and passive features pulling into agitated and strong ones across her face “So, think you can handle it, tough guy?” she’d ask Madman, who couldn’t help but find himself curious, he’d then bring up a thick, leather glove – much more like a work glove than a fancy, dressy, one as he’d enamor her with perhaps the very thing her subconscious had sought from the beginning “Fine. Care to dance?” He’d ask, something in her fluttering for a moment before he broke it with “Though these feet were not made for dancing. So I’d watch my feet if I were you.” He’d forewarn, as she rolled her eyes.

“Acting halfway decent would kill you wouldn’t it?!” She’d exclaim as Madman shrugged “Maybe I-“ But before he’d get a word in, the Squad Leader would tug Madman away to dance in intimacy – now that might have been quite soothing for him, who highly valued intimacy and privacy…if only because he liked to hide his face and stow away in his room. However despite his unusual responses, these only masked the obvious feelings pent away.

Snipes could not help but smile to no one in particular, he was beginning to feel the drinks as he and The Warhammer sat about, Snipes drinking rum boilers by the fist, talking about wild adventures they both intended to have and Osk business. His sad little band seemed to have fallen into disrepair in his prolonged absence.  Snipes could not help but be amused by them though, so far removed from all he had been through and all he had seen. He told tall tales of the mysterious regions of the galaxy, tales of marvelous worlds, treasures and women. All the things that mattered. There was still adventure in his galaxy.

“And then I bit his hat.” Snipes finished.

Tanus laughed, slapping the table a couple times in a valiant attempt not to spit his whiskey across it. That’s when Snipes attention was shifted to the man winding his way through the crowd. Snipes could hardly say it was someone new to him, although he, without a doubt, looked older than last Snipes had seen him. The Pirate tried to recall the name. It had been a long time since he had tagged along with Jester for that mission. A long time, much had changed, and yet sitting in that particular spot it felt like nothing had.

Snipes had always been his own man, through all his years in the Corps and now as freelance, he had always been the same madman. Wars had been fought, battles won and lost, friends killed and crushed beneath the boots of the imperial war machine, and yet he had emerged unscathed. Not because of any logical reason, he had always been insane and that was what allowed him to watch on as the people closest to him where tortured and destroyed. Life had a funny way of making madmen, and he had been one long before joining the corps.

Perhaps it was this trait that was the reason he had never cared for peoples opinion of him, why he could be an uncouth rogue in the middle of this party, feet crossed upon the table, drink resting in his hand and upon his stomach, odorous cigarra stuck between his teeth.  He laughed loudly and with no mind to those around him.

Then Jager, that was his name, pulled up an empty chair at his table. Tanus and whoever the foolish girl across from Snipes instantly silenced, eyes turning to the new arrival. They all surveyed him, Snipes with a half smile of amusement stuck on his face. He was wearing a really bad suit; it didn’t fit him at all. Snipes went straight to blaming some woman on that. Kids were always letting their significant others choose their clothing. Crazy kids.

Jager coughed and adjusted his collar; he clearly had no idea what to say. There wasn’t much to be said, Snipes didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t even remember what terms they’d parted on.  Snipes chuckled slightly and used a quick tap with his toe to send one of the untouched glasses, either one of Tanus’ whiskeys or Snipes’ rum boilers, sliding towards the guy.

Jager grabbed it up and drank it like it was the only thing keeping him alive. He slammed the empty glass down on the table with a thump and a sigh of satisfaction. Snipes couldn’t help but snort in amusement. That was a feeling he understood.

“I’m going to jump out on a limb here and say you’re bored,” Snipes kept the smile, swirling his drink, “You’re bored and the empire still pays all of crap for cash.”

Jager grunted. Snipes just grinned at him.

“Do you have a ship?”

He shook his head to the negative.

“Lovely,” Snipes said dryly, “please tell me you’re good at something.”

“I kill shit for a living.”

“Wonderful, you are pretty much just like everyone else in this valley.”

“What more do you really want?”

Snipes looked at Tanus, “Why the hell am I still doing the hiring. I’m a fuckin’ king. I need to start wearing the fuckin’ crown.”

“You have a crown!?” The woman was, for some reason, still there.

Snipes grimaced, “Tanus, please take her somewhere quiet and nice and not here; probably should pay her lots of money,” It was actually weird, Snipes was well known for hiring his friends without even having a position for them, but he was actually scrutinizing Jager. Perhaps it was how much the man had changed in the short time Snipes had been gone. Snipes sighed, “ You look like the deadly type. I like that. Really, killing shit is awesome, I do it all the time; I’m a fucking pirate. I’m sure somebody needs an extra gun, and since you’re coming from here I can assume you’re actually moderately reliable, atleast compared to the idiots I’m forced to work with.”

Jager nodded slowly, catching up alleged Kings chaotic manner of speaking.

Snipes sighed. He was bored, for now, and his drink runner had left. He tossed the butt of a cigarra into a bush and lit another one. He was also out of drinks. Something he cared far more about than the soldier in front of him. Snipes wondered if he should warn the man of that fact, then decided it probably wouldn’t be good PR.

There was always the lingering question of Snipes return, he could not help but be brought around to it at the realization of how much people had changed. Everywhere around him there was change, not many had changed in character as much as Jager seemed to, but the balance of power in the VE had definitely shifted, for better or for worse. There were also the ever troublesome rumors that he was fake. He didn’t really care much for those, who could impersonate one such as his self? None. Snipes liked to think he was a singular entity amidst a sea of the same. It had been one of the reasons the First Sergeant had never returned to the Corps, all same all the time. Entirely too boring.

Perhaps that was part of the reason he had appeared at the party, to assure his friends and business associates that he was indeed back and it was indeed him. Rizzit, Fury, the important people now knew it was, and amidst the chaos of his return he was managing to settle into a nice little seat at a nice table and enjoy a few very well earned drinks. Then again, by Snipes mind he had earned the entire galaxy. Maybe one day he’d claim his prize.

Then he had to laugh at himself, he must be feeling his drinks, that was an insane notion.