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Iden Versio crouched in the shadow of the rocky outcrop, her black flight suit and helmet with red stripes illuminated by the pale, ghostly glow of the holo-projector from her gauntlet. In her other hand, she held her E-11, a compact, short-barrelled blaster carbine that was the staple weapon of the Imperial Forces. The holo-projector image was being relayed from ID-10, a miniature version of the Arakyd Probe Droid that the Empire used to survey remote planets, showing three figures in rough clothing standing around a fourth who was tied to a chair. He was a human male dressed in the same flight suit as Iden, minus his helmet and life support pack. Even with the grainy quality of the image, she could make out his black eye and split lip. Standing over him was a Twi'lek, identifiable by the twin headtails that hung down his back, his sleeveless jacket revealing his muscular arms. The others were a gaunt human female and a Mon Calamari who's left eye bore a savage scar. Shutting down the holo-projector, she released the safety on her E-11, slipping from cover and heading towards the rough circle of cargo crates that surrounded the pilot and his captors. Dropping to one knee, she sighted up on the Twi'lek and pulled the trigger, the blaster bolt catching him in the back and burning through his chest. Even before he fell, she swung round towards the human female, two more bolts hitting her in the stomach. By now, the Mon Calamari had got his hand on his blaster pistol and he had just started to draw when Iden's shot caught him in the throat.
'ID-10,' Iden said. 'Scan the area...'
There was silence for a second and then the droid beeped, reporting that the area was clear. Moving quickly, Iden stood up and sprinted over to the pilot, kneeling down next to him.
'Lieutenant Aviss,' she said. 'Iden Versio, Inferno Squad. I'm here to get you out. ID-10!'
The droid glided through the crates, his domed head turning his single electronic 'eye' towards her, his manipulator arms extended below him.
'Free him,' Iden said and ID-10 drifted towards him, extending one of his manipulator arms, cutting his bonds with his laser torch.
'Thank you,' Aviss said, standing up and rubbing his wrists as Iden handed him her SE-14C sidearm, just as her comlink crackled.
'Inferno-1,' Del said. 'Additional forces approaching from the southwest...'
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Del lay flat on the rocky outcrop that overlooked the pirate camp, his DLT-19 sniper rifle resting against his shoulder. He had personally modified the weapon by removing the standard stabilising tripod as an unnecessary encumbrance, adding an enhanced optical scope instead. Despite himself, he felt his pulse quicken as he watched Iden approach the line of cargo crates and open fire. Even though she had been his commanding officer for the last two years, and he'd seen her come deal with far more deadly odds, it was a reaction even his military training couldn't entirely eliminate. As a sniper, his skills dictated that he would frequently have to watch and wait while his comrades went into danger. However, that didn't mean he couldn't contribute.
'Inferno -1,' he said, keying his comlink. 'Additional forces approaching from the southwest...'
'Acknowledged, Inferno-3' Iden said, as Del pressed his eye to his rifle's scope, sighting up on the seven pirates that were moving towards them. 'We're heading for the extraction point, now. Cover us...'
'Copy that,' Del said, aiming at a Rodian that was carrying a repeating blaster and pulling the trigger. The bolt punched through his chest and he collapsed, the weapon clattering to the ground. Through the scope, he could see Iden and Aviss scrambling over rocks, heading for the extraction point. A few metres outside the camp was a flat expanse of ground which was the only place that the Corvis could land. Iden ducked into cover behind a low screen of rocks, pulling Aviss down after her, just as a blaster bolt sizzled over their heads.
'Inferno-1 to Corvis,' Iden said, pressing her hand to the side of her helmet. 'We need extraction, now...'
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Luke Skywalker raised his Lightsaber as he stepped forward, swinging it over his head in a double-handed strike towards Ulic Qel-Droma. Swiftly, he stepped backwards, deflecting the blade to the left and he advanced, lunging forward. However, Luke stepped back, raising his own blade so that it was aimed at his throat. If Ulic had continued his advance, he would have skewered himself. Ulic retreated a step, before flipping his blade to the other hand and springing forward. Luke advanced to meet the blow, blocking it with a clash of their blades and Ulric swept a low strike towards his knees. However, as Luke shifted to block, Ulic revealed it to be a feint, swinging it back up to stop it an inch from his head. Luke grinned, stepping back and shutting down his blade.
'Want to go again?' Ulic asked, shutting down his own blade and running a hand through his brown hair.
'Nah,' Luke said, sitting down and staring out of the viewport at the starfield beyond. Unlike Ulic, he had sandy hair and pale blue eyes, dressed in a pale white tunic.
'Do you...ever think of leaving?' He asked and Ulic frowned.
'Where would you go...?'
'I dunno...the Rebellion...' Luke began, just as the door hissed open and Nomi Sunrider stepped in.
'Master Altis sent me to get you,' she said, tucking a lock of her red hair behind ear. 'It's time for dinner...'
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Han braced for the moment of disorientation as the Falcon came out of hyperspace, the swirling maelstrom collapsing into a blur of stars that resolved into the image of a blue-grey planet surrounded by bulky orbital facilities. A dark-haired human with a cocky grin, he was dressed in a tattered leather jacket and rough trousers with red stripes down the sides.
'See?' He said, turning to Chewbacca in the co-pilot seat. 'Told you. No problem...'
Chewie growled his skepticism as he reached for the controls, plotting a course towards the planet. A Wookie from Kashyyk, Chewie was nearly half as tall as Han, his body covered in chestnut fur.
'Keep an eye on that left thruster array, pal,' Han said, as he rose from his seat. 'It was running a little hot when we left Tatooine. I'll check on our guests...'
Chewie growled his assent as Han left the cockpit and headed aft to where a man and woman were seated around the dejarik table. One was tall with black hair and a serious expression, while the other was petite with a gentle smile.
'We'll be landing on Sluis Van in a few minutes,' he said. 'After that, you'll be on your own...'
'This isn't the first cell we've set up,' the man said, just as Chewie growled from the cockpit and Han frowned.
'What's wrong?' the woman asked and Han turned towards her.
'We've got an Imperial customs vessel on an intercept course,' he said, turning and sprinting towards the cockpit.
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'We've been in hyperspace for two days,' Zeb growled, as he stomped into the Ghost's cockpit. Purple-furred, like most Lasat, he was dressed in a yellow jumpsuit, with his Bo-rifle slung across his back. He wore no boots on his prehensile feet, which were more like a second set of hands.
'The client's paying us very well to make this delivery,' Hera said, from where she was sitting in the pilot's seat. A green-skinned Twi'lek, she wore a orange flightsuit, her lekku hanging down her back. She glanced over at Kanaan, a human male with a neat goatee, who shrugged.
'These miners keep themselves to themselves,' she said, turning back to Zeb. 'When we dock, you, me and Ezra will handle the transfer, while Sabine and Kanaan will maintain security...'
'We have done this before,' Zeb said, with a scowl. 'I just want to get this done...'
'We'll be there in a few hours,' Hera said. 'If you're bored, you could help Chopper with the final inventory check...'
'No, thanks...' Zeb said, stalking away and Hera grinned, turning back to Kanaan.
'You're very quiet...'
'I don't know,' he said. 'What do you know about this miner...?'
'Not much,' Hera admitted. 'But, I've worked with him on a couple of other jobs. Can you...sense anything...?
'The Force doesn't work like that,' Kanaan said. 'I feel...a sense of unease, but I don't know whether that's a premonition or not...'
'...okay. All we can do is keep our eyes open...'
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Fi watched through the scope of his DC-17, as his three brothers made their way through the Trade Federation base towards the parabolic comm dish at the centre.
Base. Ffft. It's just a bunch of pre-fab sheds...
Even from this distance, and despite the fact that they where all wearing the same Katarn armour, he could tell them apart from the way they moved. Niner was on point, his back ramrod straight as he swept the area with his Deece. Behind him was Darman, radiating a casual calm that Fi envied. Finally, Atin brought up the rear, stalking after them with his head lowered, ready to fight.
'No sign of any tinnies,' Fi said, activating his short-range comm. 'Are they taking a break or what...?'
'Tinnies don't take breaks,' Atin said and Fi rolled his eyes.
'Don't take everything so literally, Ner'vod,' he said, using the Mandalorian for brother. 'Whoa, hold up. Contact. One tinnie on your 9.'
Even before he had finished speaking, they had taken cover behind the pre-fabs, their Deece's covering the angles of approach.
'Hold your positions,' Fi said, sighting up on the tinnie. A battle droid used by the Trade Federation, it had a skinny metal frame and curved head, a blaster rifle cradled in it's hands. Fi squeezed the trigger, the blaster bolt punching through it's head. The droid continued on for a couple of steps, before toppling forwards and Fi lowered his rifle.
'You're clear, Sarge.'
'Acknowledged,' Niner said. 'Omega Squad, on me...'
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Skirata stalked through corridors of the Special Operations Barracks, past helmeted and armoured Clone Troopers as he made his way to General Zey's office. Not for the first time, he was struck by the realisation that this was how most people saw him. He still felt oddly vulnerable dressed in his rough civillian clothes and leather jacket, rather than his beskar'gam.
Buir always said that a Mandalorian is more than just his armour, but fierfek, I still feel naked...
He had found himself think about his Father a lot since accepting Jango Fett's offer six months ago.
"A nice, easy job, Kal. A few months as training sergeant for the Republic. Nothing to it..." Yeah. That was the plan, but I can't just wash my hands and walk away. My lads still need me...
With an effort, he shook himself out of his thoughts as he approached Zey's office, rapping sharply on the door with his knuckles.
'Come in, sergeant,' Zey said and Skirata pushed open the door. He didn't know if Zey had sensed him coming or whether he just recognised the knock and took a guess. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer, either. He found it hard to keep his anger in check, as it was. Like all Jedi, General Zey was dressed in loose, non-descript robes that would have passed unnoticed on the majority of worlds that Skirata had visited. Despite his relative age, especially for a serving soldier, his back was straight and he was obviously still in peak physical condition. However, his beard and long hair were decidedly unmilitary. Idly, Skirata wondered if he knew just how deeply the Mandalorian dislike of Jedi ran. Probably not. Saberjockeys tended not to worry about such mundane things.
'You asked to see me, sir?' Skirata asked, keeping his voice level with an effort.
'Yes, sergeant,' Zey said. 'Thank you for coming. We have a mission for you. We need you to locate someone for us...'
'Who?'
'A human male by the name Jarion D'Syb, although we suspect this is an alias. He's wanted for questioning in relation to alleged terror offences. Yesterday, we received intelligence that he may be on Coruscant...'
'Why me?' Skirata interrupted, drawing a frown from Zey. 'You've got any number of boys in shiny armour who can do this. I should know, I trained a lot of 'em myself...'
'They don't have your experience, sergeant,' Zey said. 'According to your file, you spent two years as a freelance bounty hunter in the Outer Rim...'
'No,' Skirata said. 'I'm done with that. Get someone else...sir.'
Zey hesitates, before pulling a folder out of his desk and flipping it towards Skirata.
'We believe D'Syb was involved in the bombing of the GAR barracks last month. I don't need to tell you that we need to find him. And, as long as you're a sergeant, you'll obey your orders. You don't like that, you can leave.'
Like you don't know that I can't, chakaar... Skirata thought, his jaw tightening. Wordlessly, he picked up the folder and turning, stalking out of Zey's office.
Damn him...
Thank you for reading. I hoped you enjoyed it. Any reviews, comments or constructive criticisms are very welcome.
