Hmm... Rogue pondered to himself as he ran likely scenarios through his mind; he needed to create a diversion so the squad could get out but one that would not get him in too much trouble. Slinging his sniper over his shoulder Rogue put one hand over the other and slid down the drainpipe that he used to shimmy up on the roof. Unbuckling his tactical belt which held his secondary weapon, grenades, food, and miscellaneous other goods. Dropping the belt so that it was hidden by some nearby bushes as well as dropping the rifle, Rogue made his way to Namyr just as the limo’s were pulling up. Nam’s eyes opened slightly at the breach in the plan.

Making sure that no one from the limo’s were watching Rogue looked at those yellow eyes that he cared so much for, quickly giving Namyr a peck he whispered two words. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re a fake you Sith blasted whore!” Rogue yelled, as the limo drivers and their passengers looked on. “Gimme back my money!”

Namyr immediately caught on and continued with the act. “You paid for your fortune and that is what I gave you, we cannot change them.”

Rogue had his back to Barada’s guests so he could not see how they were reacting, whispering to Namyr so that they could not overhear. “We have their attention?”

Covering herself from them under Rogue’s bulky form she whispered in return. “Only slightly, we’re losing it quickly though.”

Not happy with what he was going to do next, Rogue pulled his arm back and punched Nams in the gut, not full power but enough to hurt. Nams responded by throwing over the cheap card table to use as a barrier while she threw a quick jab at Rogue’s face; it connected with him square on the nose and a small nose bleed started. Kicking the card table at Namyr in an attempt to make her trip, instead the Twi’lek deftly jumped over it and attempted to trip Rogue when she hit the payment. The ASL hopped back to avoid the long legs that he liked to stroke at night when they would talk. Burly arms grabbed Rogue’s arms and put them in a full nelson, effectively ending his part of the fight. Another man approached Nams and with his arm out to show that he intended no harm quickly confirmed with Nam’s that she would not continue the conflict.

“So you like to hit girls do you?” The man who had Rogue pinned up asked.

Not giving an answer except to stomp on the man’s foot in an attempt to free himself Rogue immediately regretted doing so as the man shoved Rogue headfirst into the brick wall. The two men then proceeded to stomp the hell out of Rogue, his feeble attempts to deflect the blows were in vain and within seconds the Raider’s ASL was a mess.

“Stop.” One of the men from the limos ordered. “Take him and toss him into an alley.” Each of two men grabbed one of Rogue’s arms and dragged him to one of the limos.

Bleeding profusely from numerous gashes on his face and arms and pain spreading throughout his body, Rogue wished that the adrenaline would leave his body so that he could fall asleep and not have to worry about the pain; at least until he woke up.

Rogue felt the limo start moving and within a few minutes it stopped, there was no conversation the entire ride and as soon as they stopped he was dragged and left next to a waste bin.

Namyr quickly picked up her cards and folded up the table, bowing at the men who had stopped the, 'fight,' before scurrying down the street.  Once she was out of the eyesight of the men she easy swung up onto one of the building's fire escapes and began to follow the limo as it drove about a mile away and dumped Rogueboy in a random alley.  Watching the limo drive away, Namyr landed on the ground beside Rogueboy and let out a sigh and a smile, "And what have we learned today?" she asked digging through her medical bag and began patching Rogueboy up one wound at a time.

"That even in a fake fight you can kick my sorry human ass," Rogueboy groaned as Namyr applied a numbing agent and began to stich up the worst of the gashes.

"You're lucky, this aren't that deep and they won't scar," Namyr pursed her lips as she sewed Rogueboy's flesh back together and stopping the bleeding.

"I love a woman who can put me through pain while she's fixing my boo boos," Rogueboy grinned.

"Cute, you're already talking like your on pain meds," Namyr rolled her eyes applying bandages over the stiches.  Wiping away the blood from underneath his nose she stood up and offered her hand to help him up.  "We need to get back in postition," Namyr then spoke into her communicator, "Please tell me you guys are out of there?"

Lucas noticed that the meeting had finished quite quickly, obviously something had happened he moved further into the shadows, the abstract sculpture shielding him.

He observed around the room looking for the best way out when they left, he didn't have to worry about bugging the place, just getting in and out alive and unseen, they all stood up and looked cautious as they walked away from the table.

Almost time, we can leave as soon as we get a signal, I've already planned an exit which should work just fine completely avoiding the security systems.  Lucas sat waiting for his chance, the signal came through his ear piece.

"Get out fast." simple, straightforward and easy to follow.

Footsteps echoed through the dark and deserted hallway as the squad made their way through the building. Shortly before the mission, Intelligence had sliced civilian records for building plans and had duly turned what little data they found over to the Raiders Squad. Each member had a copy of the building plans, along with records of changes to the buildings, known guard posts and other relevant data, on their datapads. It was this that Darr now consulted before making a hand gesture. The squad moved into a v-shaped formation as the Raiders SL opened the doorseal and entered the deserted kitchen. The room smelled faintly of meat, and rows of refrigerators lined the walls. With the help of his night-vision goggles, Dante made his way through the aisles and followed Darr's lead. Several corridors later, they found themselves in a large greenhouse.

Vashim was an avid gardener, and maintained several greenhouses with flora from across the galaxy. Even in the dark, Dante made out some exotic, bulbous specimens from Felucia, which were flanked by dozens of saplings and young palms. As he brushed past gnarled trunks and twisted branches 
Dante thought he saw movement and spun around, his blaster out and his finger on the trigger. He took a second look and saw that the source of the movement had been a roughly spherical, pulsated organism with small tentacles that writhed in all direction. Slightly disgusted, Dante turned back to the path and returned to his position in the line of troopers snaking through the plant nursery. 

They came to a doorseal, and Dante waved a gloved hand. There was no reaction from the deactivated sensor, so Darr plugged his datapad into a port and began feverishly typing, his face almost ghostlike from the device's glow. As Darr withdrew his device, there were a trio of loud beeps, which made Dante curse and look for any alerted guards, and the portal slid open.

The night air was cool, and a light breeze blew fallen leaves this way and that as the Raiders SL began to deactivate the perimeter security. Ignoring their rustling, Dante scanned the area, looking for the sudden change in the shades of green that would signal a guard coming to investigate.  There was a shower of sparks and a several meter wide area of the ray shield surrounding the buildings grounds vanished. The Raiders slipped unnoticed through this new gap and vanished into the dark night.

"Well, is the fruit in place, Jeeves?"

There was a crackle of static and a low buzzing noise that obscured the first few seconds of the servant's reply.

"...well underway and the fruit should be usable within a month."

Dante's pen scratched as he wrote down terms and a brief summary of the discussion on sheets of flimsy. There were many hours worth of conversations, some of which were completely irrelevant and by law had to be deleted. Not that Dante wanted to listen to the politicians many petty blackmails and affairs; the man must have had at least three mistresses. In addition, he appeared to have met with several local party bosses, and had several members of the local police on his payroll.

While all this was very suggestive and might give the evidence needed for a prosecution, the "fruit" mentioned might pose a threat to the Vast Empire. Thrawn and the New Republic had used terrorist cells against their enemies, as had their predecessors in the Confederacy of Independent systems. There were measures that could be used, such as sending out signals intended to prematurely detonate the bombs, but such extreme tactics were often counterproductive, affecting other electronics and often causing massive collateral damage in the areas where the cowardly Rebels hid their equipment. If the "fruit" was plastic explosive or heavy weaponry, and no action was taken, thousands of casualties could result. Munitions storehouses, public squares, stores...all were fair game for terrorists.

Which is why this mission is so important. If we cannot protect the citizens, what right do we have to govern them?

Dante felt a tap on his shoulder and paused the recording. Taking off his headphones and turning the chair around, he saw that Darr had returned to the room. The Raiders Squad Leader was wearing a set of stormtrooper armour that had been dyed black,had his helmet tucked under his arm, and had a blaster shotgun slung on his back.

"The High Command contacted me, and gave us the go ahead to mount an operation. They're especially concerned about the warehouse where he supposedly is storing fruit, and we've been ordered to shut the operation down. Suit up and head to briefing room one-oh-four ASAP."

Without saying another word, the officer left the room, replacing his helmet on his head as he did so. Dante mentally reviewed the building plans and made a beeline for the barracks.

Finally, an excuse to fight, shoot and blow stuff up. This should be interesting.

A light flickered on and off, casting elongated shadows on the durasteel floor of the Raiders barracks. Only the hum of the faulty wires and the clinking of plastoid touching plastoid disturbed the near-silence of the barracks. Iron Horse, as well as other squads, were either off-planet on missions or still recovering from the debacle on Yuka.

They do need to rest...but if we, we who suffered more casuaties than most of them, if we can fight why can't they?

Sighing, the trooper turned back to the pile of body armour on his bunk and started to suit up. Soon, his hands were moving in motions made familiar through dozens of repetitions.

The first time he had put on this class body armour, he had felt as though he was suffocating and almost succumbed to claustrophobia. The air fed to him through filters had been warm and felt sticky as sweat pooled up inside the suit. The visor had restricted sight and turned everything a dull red. Now, Dante felt calmer within the reassuring world of the suit. Within the body armour, he could survive for up to twenty minutes in the void of space, shrug off slugthrower rounds, and surivive glancing hits from blaster. Within the protective closeness of the armour, he felt safe. Indeed, he felt almost naked without the body armour. At such times, he remembered the words of the trooper known only as Darman:"I used to think I wore this armor. Now I think it's wearing me."

All too true. But without it I would be dead a dozen times over.

Dante finished attaching the ebony chestplate over the standard issue bodyglove worn underneath the armour and turned his attention to his helmet. With a touch, the electronic sensors and viewscreens built into the device activated, humming as diagnostics ran. There was a hiss as he lowered the helmet onto his head and the helmet seals, devices that prevented such aerial contaminants as biological weapons or soot from entering troopers's lungs, activated. Picking up his trusty DC-17 rifle, Dante headed to the briefing room, ready for the mission.

I just hope something doesn't go wrong...