"Jason Zhane...mercenary leader..." Slick stared at his datapad. The blue glow illuminated his helmet, and the helmets of the squad who eagerly peered over his shoulder at the screen. So far, the mission had gone good. They had just taken away the captain. Now to finish it up.

Arnaut stepped back from the squad and readjusted his weapon, setting it off from stun to regular fire mode. They were going to kill Zhane. Fun, fun fun. Arnaut still felt a little nauseous after his anxiety attack occurred. Soon after he had started working for the rebels, the attacks came, probably a psychic whiplash of the traumatic day his father died. He shook the thoughts out of his head. He could mull on the later.

The squad stepped away from the datapad, breaking into the usual formation. They marched off into the night.

The darkness that surrounded them seemed to get thicker. It was almost midnight, pitch black. A slowly moving storm had moved overhead. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating their surroundings ever so slightly for a second, before plunging them back into darkness. Arnaut winced, and tightened his grip on the gun.

They walked on for a long time, longer than Arnaut thought needed for them to reach Zhane's position. Arnaut had nothing to do but stare at the back of the person in front of him. The area around him was invisible in the darkness, only visible whenever lightning flashed, so he couldn't be sure where he even was. Finally, though, they found a camp.

Slick once again motioned for them to get down. They obeyed silently, crawling toward the camp. The camp was rather small, just a few tents.  It seems there are a lot of lone camps scattered around on the battlefield. Arnaut pushed a small bush out of his way and looked at the camp from just outside the glowlamp range. Unlike the last camp, this camp only had one person guarding. And he was a rebel.

Slick clicked his gun back to stun and aimed up at the rebel. One blue shot later he was falling out of his chair, limp, onto the ground. Slick rushed over to his fallen body and searched it.

"Check the tents, stun anyone you find. We'll leave them for a taskforce to pick up."

The squad rushed to the five tents, and started opening them up. Nine other rebels were found, shot, and dragged into the middle of the camp.

The first rebel started to regain consciousness...to find the barrel of Slick's gun pointed squarely at his forehead. His eyes opened wide and he squirmed, trying to get away from the gun, to find he was tied up.

"So you're awake," Slick said menacingly.

"P-please, don't kill me," The man stuttered.

"Well, if you don't want to die, then we'll play a little game," Slick pulled back his gun and stared at it. "I ask a question, you give me an answer. Question, answer. Question, answer. Got it? If you don't give me the answer I like...I'll shoot you." The man nodded, fear showing in his eyes. "Good..."

"Who are you?" Slick asked, pointing the gun toward the man again.

"We're a Devaron force assassin team."

"Why are you here?"

"We received a letter from Jas?an unknown contact within the Imperial ranks that we should assassinate one of the mercenary leaders and leave behind evidence to make it look like the Imperials did it."

Slick thought this over. The rest of the squad continued their search through the tents. Arnaut walked into the largest tent, grabbed the nearest box, and ripped it open. Inside was a small datapad. He snatched it and turned it on.

A small letter appeared on the screen.

=================================================================To: Shast'Mok, Lieuteneant of Devish Reels

I need an assassination to occur. My mercenary leader, John Barnes, will be the target. Kill him in the night Take as much evidence as you think reasonable to litter the crime scene with to make it look like the Imperials were involved. I shall try my best to stir up the mercenaries' hate against the Empire, and turn them. His tent is on he eastern side of our camp. I expect this to be done within three days of receiving this letter.  That is all for now, I will keep you informed.

-Son'ah Jezna
=================================================================

Arnaut rushed the message out to Slick, who had finished his interrogations.

"Slick, look at this," He said holding up the datapad for Slick to see.

"I don't know of any Son'ah Jezna in the Devaronian army, though..." Slick muttered, reading the message a second time.

"It's an anagram for Jason Zhane, sir," Arnaut replied helpfully.

"Alright, now we know he was trying to assassinate one of his leaders. Drug these people and leave them for the mercenaries.

The  teamed shoved a fast working sleeping pill in each of the men's mouths. They nodded off. Marching back into formation, the walked the rest of the way to the mercenary camp.

The camp was large. Larger than any other camp they had come across so far. And Arnaut was tired of looking at it. So many camps. So many stupid camps. Why does everyone sleep in their own secluded camps out here? He sighed. This was his last target, and all the frustration was catching up with him. It had been a long night, again.

The camp's lights were all on, and mercenaries hung out in front of tents laughing, smoking, playing cards. Not a care in the world. They simply nodded towards the squad as they passed. The squad nodded in turn.

Zhane's tent was at the center of the camp, surrounded by guards.

When the squad approached, they immediately stepped in front of the doorway.

"You must let us through," Slick said calmly. The first guard, the taller one, spoke up.

"We can not, Zhane is very busy at the moment," He replied in a gruff voice.

"Would you believe us if we told you he was a rebel? By the look on your face, I guess not. Read this. The signature at the bottom is an anagram for Jason Zhane, in case you can't figure it out." The guard's eyes widened as he read the letter. "

We picked it off the assassination team who are, at this moment, about ten minutes out of camp, sleeping. If you don't believe me, go look for yourself, but we must see Zhane."
The guard nodded and motioned for his buddy to move aside. The squad walked into the open flap. Jason sat in his cot reading over his datapad. When he heard the noise, he spoke without looking up.

"Vor'han, I asked to not be disturbed under any circumstances." But then he looked up. He immediately flinched when he saw the squad, but talked casually.

"What do you want?" He asked, hand dropping to his belt.

"Your life," Slick replied and the squad's guns were up and firing.

Zhane flipped up his cot and used it as a shield to block the first few shots, and to help him fire his own pistol that had appeared in his hand. The shots went wild. He charged for the door, gun blazing, before a bolt in the neck got him. Stunned he reached up to the hole where his throat should've been, gurgled, and dropped to the floor.

"Jason Zhane, you are hereby relieved of your command.," Slick said, staring down at the corpse.

The mission was finished. They made the long trip back to the trenches, and Imperial troops, to await their next orders.

(OOC: Dang, I finally succumbed to what I hate doing...finishing large parts in one post. Well after my failed plan, and the story being due today, we just ran outta time.)


-----------------------
Lance Corporal Arnaut
-=Wraith Squad=--=TRP=-
TRP/LCP Arnaut/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/VEA/VE

"Take care of your equipment, and your equipment will take care of you"