Author's Note: I fear I'm going to become known for writing off the wall one shots, but honestly, I can't help myself. I wanted to know what would happen if everyone in Havoc Squad had the exact opposite personality of what they do in the game/Family is more than Blood. This is what happened and it amused me greatly. Hopefully, it will amuse you too.
"Okay, people, here is the deal." Fynta read the report on her datapad, memorizing every word, intent on getting this mission right. "We are being sent in to rescue a handful of diplomats. These guys are scared, and probably more than a little jumpy. Reports state that one of the aids has a holdout blaster, so be mindful."
"Yeah, wouldn't want to get our asses shot off by some idiot politician," Cormac grunted from where he leaned against the wall.
Jorgan clapped the big man on the shoulder and chuckled. "At least it'll make things interesting." Cormac rolled his eyes, and shrugged the optimistic Cathar off.
"Try to put yourself in their shoes," Vik added. "They aren't trained for this. It's probably terrifying." The two men eyed the Weequay, then ignored him, dismissing themselves to prep for the op. Fynta hoped that they'd remembered to clean their weapons after the last one.
That left Elara and Yuun in the main room. Keeping her voice polite, Fynta turned to the other woman. "Dorne, we are looking at heavy resistance. Please pack extra kit, we want to be prepared this time."
The blond ex-Imp sniffed as she turned on her heel. "Yeah, whatever. Try taking cover, and you wouldn't need the extra medical supplies. That stuff doesn't come cheap, you know," she snapped before disappearing into the medbay. Fynta caught a glance at the disheveled mess inside and cringed.
Yuun, the Gand who'd basically been shoved off his homeworld after failing the last three Findsmen trials, was the last member of her squad to receive his orders. Fynta sighed when the terminal he was standing at sparked, and the Gand hid his hands behind his back. "Yuun, will you be able to handle this mission?" Fynta asked, calmly straightening the collar of her uniform. She was nothing if not professional.
The Gand bobbed his head vigorously. "This Gand will not fail you, Captain."
Fynta highly doubted that, but she forced a smile in the attempt to keep up squad morale. Yuun scurried off, and Fynta headed to her room to don her armor. She wondered for the hundredth time why Garza had taken her, a respected Republic commando, and thrown her in with this lot. Her record was clean, not a single toe out of line in the last ten years, and she was being punished for it by being saddled with the rejects of the army, the aptly named, Havoc squad. No matter where they went, chaos inevitably followed.
Her door opened to display none other than the instigator of most of that chaos, sprawled across her bed as if he owned it. "Greetings, Captain," the big man said with a wink.
Fynta shut the door hurriedly and hissed. "You shouldn't be in here."
Balic Cormac was her single indiscretion after having too much Corellian wine during their post Gauntlet celebration. It had been an absolute miracle that they'd survived, let alone completed their mission. Fynta was almost certain that Garza had sent them on a suicide run, because the odds she'd calculated for their survival had been absolutely laughable. So, yes, she'd had too much to drink that night. They all had.
Now, she was stuck with a disgruntled and bitter soldier, who thought she was in love with him. Granted, that hadn't mattered on that night. Hell, she didn't even remember most of it. There was a reason Fynta chose not to drink, and it was because she was a lightweight who usually did something stupid under the influence of alcohol.
Cormac climbed off the bed, towering over her. His eyes narrowed, and he reached around to slap her ass. "I didn't hear you complaining last time, Cap."
Fynta pushed him away and pointed to the door. "Out, or I'll have you brought up on a charge."
The big man snorted, a nasty gleam in his eye and shot back with, "I wouldn't be the only one to go down, sister." The door slid open, and Cormac vanished.
Sighing again, Fynta found her armor, and decided to put in for a transfer after this mission. She'd had it, Havoc Squad was a lost cause. When she emerged from her room, outfitted in the Republic's finest durasteel, the rest of the squad was loosely gathered around. Elara's bun was a mess, far from regulation, but Fynta was tired of fighting with the woman over it. One more mission, she reminded herself. Jorgan leaned on the counter next to the medic, waving his hands as he told another animated story that probably didn't have a scrap of truth to it.
"Everyone ready?" Fynta asked, pulling their attention to her.
The Cathar stood, and knocked his knuckles against a filthy chest plate. "Ready as we'll ever be, boss." He punctuated the statement with a wink, and Fynta rolled her eyes.
"I've inspected the gear and ammunition, Captain. We're ready," Vik added. Fynta nodded at the Weequay, grateful to have at least one dependable soldier in this group. The rest were either idiots, completely useless in their chosen fields, or both.
The Thunderclap jarred so suddenly that Fynta nearly lost her footing. "Apologies," Yuun's voice came over the intercom. "We have docked."
Fynta shot a glare at Jorgan. "I thought I ordered you not to let him back on the bridge."
The Cathar shrugged, at least having the decency to look chastened. "Oops." He cast an eye at Elara, who wore a devilish smirk. "I, uh, got distracted." Fynta couldn't resist the curl of her lip. It was more information than she ever needed to know about their medic and the would be Cathar pilot.
"Just get to the airlock, no doubt our presence has been noted," Fynta sighed.
The airlock opened and Havoc Squad spilled out. Jorgan, Vik, and Fynta stayed in formation, while Cormac saw something interesting, and broke ranks to check it out. He destroyed everything in his path, including several computer terminals that Fynta would have preferred to be kept whole, just in case intelligence could get anything off them.
Of course, it didn't take long for the Imps to spot the weak link, and Cormac went down with a muttered curse. "Damn it, Cormac," Fynta swore. "Dorne, check on him."
The medic sighed audibly over the comms while the rest of the squad pushed forward. "Hold still," Elara complained, while Cormac groaned. "You've broken your spine, and have a sucking chest wound, you idiot." Fynta cringed, that sounded bad. "Captain, there is nothing I can do for him."
Fynta sighed, weighing the odds. Either call the mission a bust and get Cormac aboard the ship, or rescue the diplomats. Basically, it was Cormac versus future peace, there really wasn't a choice, she had to do what was right for the Republic. "Fine, form back up, Dorne, we'll swing back by on our way back." Cormac began swearing, and Fynta cut his comms.
"Sir, with all due respect," Vik began.
Fynta cut him off. "We don't have time for this, Tanno. Cormac broke formation, and made himself a liability. We still have a mission to complete."
The Weequay sighed. "Understood, sir."
Havoc managed to escape the docking bay, and worked their way through the hallways to the room that held the hostages with relative success. Fynta was just starting to think they might pull this off, then she'd get her transfer, and Havoc squad would just be a dark spot on her record that she could ignore. At least, until Fynta realized they were going to have to slice the door.
Closing her eyes, Fynta opened a line to the Gand, who'd she decided to leave on the ship. She hoped it was still there when they completed their task. "Yuun, we need access to the room."
Fynta waited while the Gand typed in the background. Then the alarms began blaring. "Yuun?" She asked, barely maintaining her stoic tone.
"Apologies, this Gand has accessed the alert system by mistake. It will be fixed momentarily."
Havoc stood in the hallway as the lights began flashing. Then, the soothing tones of the ship's interface spoke over the DESTRUCT INITIATED. TWENTY SECONDS REMAINING. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE ESCAPE PODS IN AN ORDERLY FASHION.
Jorgan swore over the comms, some vulgar statement in Catharese, and Fynta was sorely tempted to echo the sentiment. Instead, she thought back to her father, the calm and collected general who served with honors until he retired. Somehow, that always managed to level her temper out. "Yuun, care to shut that off?"
"This Gand is trying."
TEN SECONDS TO SELF DESTRUCT.
Fynta's pulse pounded in her ears. Deciding that the calm dad approach wasn't going to get her out of this one, she yelled over the comm. "Yuun, shut it down!" Panic bubbled to the surface at the thought of dying on this ship, surrounded by the rejects of the army. The politicians pounded on the door, demanding release, and adding to the mayhem.
"I'm out of here," Dorne said, taking off down the hallway. Jorgan hesitated, his helmet swiveling between his commanding officer and the retreating back of the woman he was having an illicit relationship with. Fynta had turned a blind eye to it, but now realized that she might have made a mistake.
"Don't you dare, soldier," Fynta growled.
FIVE SECONDS TO SELF DESTRUCT.
"Sorry, boss." As Jorgan took off down the hallway, Fynta momentarily wondered if either of them realized that they weren't going to make it off this ship.
A heavy hand landed on Fynta's shoulder, startling her. It was Tanno Vik, silently reassuring her that he wouldn't abandon her as well. Fynta nodded at the big Weequay, and shut her eyes as the countdown neared zero. What a perfect, freaking way to end her career.
Fynta sat bolt upright just as the heat from the explosion melted her armor onto her flesh. Her breath came quickly, sweat soaked her clothes and the sheets, and her heart pounded. Looking around, Fynta realized she was in her room, unharmed, and completely uncrispy. "What the shab?" She whispered into the cool, darkness. The gentle hum of the Thunderclap's hyperdrive engines were the only sound. It had to have been a dream. One hell of a weird, shabbing dream.
Jorgan stirred, rolling over to flop an arm across Fynta's legs. She cringed at the fading memory of Cormac being in her bed instead. That was wrong on so many levels. To soothe her guilt of the imagined tryst with her best friend, Fynta ran a hand over her husband's head. His arm tightened, pulling her closer.
Fynta couldn't wait to tell the rest of the squad. Granted, Elara probably wouldn't like the way she had been portrayed. Which reminded her of Vik, and his kindness and loyalty. She could picture the look on his face, and had to throw her arm across her mouth to stifle the laughter that bubbled up.
Jorgan inhaled sleepily. "What's so funny?"
"I'll tell you later, riduur," Fynta answered. "Go back to sleep." The Cathar offered no further arguments, and she snuggled closer, drifting back to sleep with a smile on her lips.