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A hockey gambling ring...only in Canada...and America. Well, maybe Russia too. Damn you, Wayne Gretzky's wife! Damn you!

Of course, I don't follow hockey. Just it's scandals.

Laina was relieved to see Korwin in good spirits when he walked into the sitting room and sat in his chair. He flashed one of his frequent grins, and said, "Good morning Laina."

She returned the smile and the greeting, and then said, "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Nalan."

He nodded his head, and the grin faded a bit. He ran a hand over his cornrows and sighed deeply. He then leaned his head against the backrest of his chair and said, "True to Cap's word, we were out in the Dune Sea trolling for sandpeople after three days. The attack on the camp was scary for sure, but they didn't do much damage. I got a medal for that one." He chuckled. "Nothing big, though. Borlin asked if I wanted a metal for the 'crowd control' that I'd done when the box had crashed. I told him no on that one. I was just trying to save my ass there, no heroics involved." He laughed a little louder, and it spread quickly through the room.

After the laughter had subsided, his face became more serious, as he began to recall the details of the mission. "We were dropped in at night of course, about ten miles south of base. Once we gained air superiority we'd eventually gain the ability to call in air support if we were in deep shit. Of course, we always had a platoon of regulars on stand-by, and the boxes to bring em'. But then, if we got hit by a large force out there without any cover, it'd be a payback job by the regulars. We'd already be dead."

"What about the incident with the crashed box?" Laina asked.

"Well that was the thing; they had the box to take cover in, and that lasted them long enough for the regulars to get there. On open sand, we'd be fucked." Korwin said matter-of-factly. "We'd also eventually get artillery support, but we didn't have any big guns on Tatooine yet. The Navy was still taking most of the really good recruits, and most of the funding we were picking up." He took a sip of his water, and said, "Anyways, we made our insertion without any problems. The next thing to do was find a likely spot, and wait."

The twin suns of Tatooine beat down on the heat-scorched planet's surface, the thick atmosphere magnifying the brilliant UV rays and turning the air between space and dirt into a world-sized broiler. Stinging hot winds swept endlessly across the ever-changing landscape of the vast Northern Dune Sea, the sands of time burying the truths of today and turning them into the mysteries of tomorrow.

In this land of death, the only thing that mattered was survival. For one to believe that he was fighting for any other cause was folly. The city-dwellers and farmers knew it. The ceaselessly opportunistic Jawa's knew it. The Children of the Sand knew it. The Imps and Rebels knew it. Korwin knew it.

He'd been lying flat on his stomach, almost completely covered with sand, for almost eight hours now. He hadn't moved a muscle in that entire time. Success as a recon man depended on discipline, he'd found. Still, his entire body was aching from lack of movement and somehow, underneath the thick layer of sand, he'd almost started getting cold. The idea was almost absurd, considering his present location, but there it was.

He was currently halfway up the side of a dune that he guessed was almost fifty feet high. The damn thing was huge. Somewhere to his right, buried similarly, was Kierse. Another large dune directly opposite Korwin and Kierse's created a kind of shallow, sandy valley that stretched for almost a mile east to west, it's course altering little. After that, the dunes got smaller and smaller, until they reached the flat sands near Mos Espa and the Xelric Draw that the base lay on.

On the opposite dune, also buried and camouflaged, were Kreth and Jenrol. Haslin was...well, Korwin didn't know exactly where Haslin was. He'd gone off to 'find myself the perfect huntin' spot, boss.' He knew where to regroup though, so Korwin didn't worry about him.

He was satisfied with what they'd decided on. They'd nail the first group of tusken's that was smaller than fifteen heads, then head to the regrouping area and call for extraction. Hopefully they wouldn't get ambushed themselves on the way there. Korwin smiled mirthlessly at thought. It was bound to happen to some patrol or another.

He slowly shifted his half-closed eyes to the east, where his gut told him they'd be coming from. He kept his gaze on that point, and was soon rewarded for his hours of patience. He gave a single click on the hand-held comm in his left hand. His electronic earpiece registered a single click in reply; Haslin's signal that he too had spotted the group of sandpeople.

Korwin watched them making their way up the little valley that the dune's created. They were using it as cover to get closer to the Alliance base. From there, they'd lie in wait until an unsuspecting group of infantrymen plodded past, and then they'd wipe them all out.

But this group would never make it past the draw. As they drew near, the cold, humorless smile again spread across Korwin's face. There were only nine of them. They were on foot, walking in single file, about five feet between each of them. His team had spent two days working on this ambush strategy. It was relatively simple, of course. Complexity led to unnecessary deaths, but no matter how simple a mission plan was, it could never be over-rehearsed. Especially with something as potentially volatile as an ambush.

There were two attack signals once the tusken's had been spotted and Haslin had acknowledged his readiness. The first was for Haslin alone. Another single click on the comm would set Haslin's trigger finger to work. Once Korwin was ready for the team to go, he'd give a double click. As the lead sandperson neared Korwin's position, he clicked the 'talk' button on the comm once.

Barely a second later, a brilliant white energy bolt lanced through the lead tusken's head. It dropped to the ground, it's body flopping about madly. Korwin winced internally at the sight. No matter how many times he watched a headshot victim do the fish flop, it never disturbed him any less. A second shot followed almost immediately, and the second sandperson in line fell with a neat hole through the heart. The remaining seven sandpeople began to run for the protection of the two great dunes, when Korwin gave the second attack signal.

Haslin dropped another as Korwin leapt to his feet, sending sand flying everywhere. He quickly drew a bead on the nearest sandperson and pumped three bolts into it's chest. It dropped soundlessly to the sand, and Korwin sprayed a few bolts at two of them that were leveling their slugthrowers at him. The wild shots missed completely, but succeeded in getting them to hesitate long enough for Kierse to gun them both down.

The remaining three were already running away, when Jenrol flung a grenade at them. It passed in front of them and exploded, a brilliant red flash of plasma completely cooking the first two. The last one was shielded from the blast by it's two comrades, but found itself lying on it's back, dazed. It slowly stood up, still facing away from them, and Kreth put it down for good with five bolts in it's back.

Without a word, the larry's left their current position and headed southwest, following Kreth to the regrouping point. Haslin was already there when they reached it, and Korwin pulled out his comm again, and brought it to his mouth. "This is Larry K calling for extraction."

The reply came in the squad's earpiece's a moment later. "Copy that Larry K, your ride is on the way, over."

Korwin activated the small homing beacon that would allow them to pinpoint their location, and then waited to hear the loud engines of the box. As they'd just blown the shit out of a Sandpeople hunting party, stealth wasn't really a concern anymore. Anything in the area knew they were around somewhere. Hopefully they'd look at the crime scene first.

Just minutes later his mind was put at ease, as he heard the familiar sound of the box approaching. He could see it, too, flying high over the sands. Now that the Imps were otherwise occupied, they didn't have to worry too much about the radar limit. It descended fast, and touched down hard. Korwin stood up with the rest of his squad, and watched them all board before getting on himself. He didn't know why, but even after taking a bullet in the leg for it the doorway was still his favorite place to sit.

As he always did after a mission, he screamed loudly when the box took off. His squad mates joined him, each of them giving a shout of primal joy at having survived another one. And, of course, to exercise underused vocal chords. When they'd finished their hollering, Korwin noticed the co-pilot grinning back at them. The box drivers had gotten used to the yelling that the recon troops on Tatooine did. All of them did it. It was like an unofficial post-op ritual. It was especially good for relieving tension after those long missions where up-close sightings were constant and contact was a no-no.

The squad didn't say anything as they flew back to base, just shared a smile with each other. They'd just conducted the first successful planned ambush of the sandpeople. Well, the first attempted, to be fair to the other recon units. For Korwin, it was just a relief. He knew that if his squad could pull it off like that, so could any of the other larry's on Tatooine. He had just as much faith in those guys as he did in his own. As far as Korwin was concerned, if you were recon, you were the best.

When the box touched down in the camp, Korwin slid off the edge of the doorway, and slung his pack over one shoulder. He began walking wearily to the Battalion CP for de-briefing. Kierse walked alongside him, and he could hear Kreth, Haslin and Jenrol talking about the mission as they followed along.

As they walked, Kierse turned to Korwin and said, "I think you have an admirer." Korwin turned his head, and saw Kierse pointing off towards the mess tents they'd just passed. He looked around for a moment, and then saw Private Melara waving to him.

He smiled and waved back, before turning his eyes ahead again and replying, "Oh well."

When they arrived at Battalion CP, Korwin geared himself up for another long debriefing. He was pleasantly surprised to find that he had little to report. They'd dropped in, hiked to their ambush point, hidden themselves, ambushed, and left. Each of them gave a detailed report of the mission as they'd seen it, and then headed back to their tent.

At first, Korwin hadn't seen the point of all of them giving individual accounts of every mission. When he'd asked Captain Borlin about it, he'd explained that everyone viewed a mission differently, especially when combat was involved. Often times, you would have a completely different view of a battle than the soldier six feet away from you. That had made sense to him, and now he didn't have a problem with it. Still, though, it would be nice if they could make them shorter all around.

Korwin and his squad dropped their combat gear off in their tent before making their way to the shower facilities. Kreth headed into the female showers, tossing a flippant, "See you guys at chow tonight." over her shoulder. Korwin and the other three headed into the mens showers. After disrobing, Korwin stepped under a showerhead and turned it on. You only had a minute of water each time you pressed the button, and you were only supposed to press it twice. Unfortunately, grease paint could be stubborn stuff, and often didn't want to come clean with one washing.

After almost fifteen minutes in the showers, the four men dressed in clean jumpsuits complete with name tags, rank insignia, and campaign tags. Korwin zipped his to the waist, and forewent putting on the upper half of it, as did the others. As they were pulling on their boots, Haslin said, "Hey boss, you ever finish high school?"

Korwin snorted, and began lacing up his boots. "Hell no, Private." He only called Haslin by his rank when he thought he was being stupid. "I'm seventeen."

"Oh, right. Well shit, when are you turning eighteen?" He asked.

Kierse and Jenrol looked up from lacing their boots when they heard the question. Jenrol said, "Yeah boss, when is your birthday?"

Korwin thought about it for a moment. Drawing a blank, he said, "What's today?"

"Ummmm...December 6th. Why?"

"About two months then. My birthday is the 13th of February." Korwin replied. He finished lacing his boots and stood up. "Hey, I'm gonna take a little walk. I'll see you all later. Maybe at chow or something." He stepped outside and instantly his bare chest began beading with sweat. A moment later, a stinging droplet fell into his eye. He blinked it away and began walking towards the edge of camp. As he passed the mess tents, he saw Melara coming towards him. He stopped, and waited for her.

"Something I can do for you, Melara?" Korwin asked politely. He'd been hoping to get some time alone, and this was not a welcome interruption. Nothing short of a transport to Naboo would have been.

She nodded, and said, "Sir...I just wanted to thank you. You know, for back in Mos Espa, when we were first going in. I never really did say thank you for talking to me before the battle. So thanks."

Korwin shrugged, and said, "It was nothing. You'd have been fine anyway."

Melara looked at the ground for a moment, almost seeming a bit shy, before looking back up. "Well, it made me feel a lot better. It made me feel like I was going to be okay. I just wanted you to know that."

Looking at her, and hearing those words, Korwin couldn't help but be a little less irritated with her. He flashed her a grin and said "Hey, it was no problem, okay? We all need a little help every now and then...you know what I mean?"

She smiled and nodded her head. "Yeah, I do." She frowned then, and said, "I also forgot to thank you for getting me a medic that night. I was just too scared, and it hurt so much...I couldn't do anything." Her lower lip began to quiver, and she quickly looked down again. Her gaze still on the ground, she said, "I felt like a coward, especially when you ran off to keep fighting, even though you were wounded."

When she looked up again, her face was filled with shame. It was only made worse when Korwin burst out laughing. Her reaction was not positive, and she quickly ducked her head again, her posture becoming tense and rigid. Korwin cut himself off mid-laugh, and said, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, there. Don't do that, don't do that." He put his hands on her shoulders, and said, "Hey, c'mon, loosen up. I didn't mean it that way. Really."

She looked up at him, her face filled with anger now, and she said, "What the hell did you mean by it then?"

He sighed, and shook his head. "I just...it was funny to me, because you did exactly what Cap is always telling me to do. 'Dammit Nalan, you get hit, stay fucking put! You get up again, and you're just twice as likely to get hit!'" He chuckled, and then turned serious. "It didn't make you a coward. Hell, I got shot on my first patrol because I froze."

Melara's expression shifted now, from one of anger to one of incredulity. "You froze up? Mr. Vibrodagger himself?" She almost started laughing now, and Korwin grinned wryly.

"Yeah, I did. The shooting started, and everyone else just dropped. We were in this stand of trees, and everyone gets behind one except me. I didn't even get below the top of the grass. I just stood there, like a fucking dummy, until some asshole decided to shoot me in the arm. Then I went for cover." One corner of his mouth curled up in a little half-smile, and he started walking slowly. "At least you were fighting before you got shot. If I'd been hit in the head, or the chest, I might never have fired a shot. I was really just standing there."

"Wow...so what happened when they shot you?" She asked, walking along with him, keeping pace easily with his slow, even strides.

He shrugged. "I snapped out of it. I started fighting back. Chucked a grenade and started blasting away."

"Well, obviously it didn't end too badly, or you wouldn't be here." She said.

He nodded. "We only lost one that day. So no, it wasn't too bad." His thoughts turned to Tandro then, and the other's they'd lost on Gnazt. His vision began to get a bit blurry, and he realized that he was starting to cry. He tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears away, but failed.

"It's okay Sir. I cry sometimes too." She said quietly.

Despite the reassurance from Melara, he forced the tears back down. "Well, I try not to." His voice was raw with emotion, and he inwardly cursed himself for it. He stopped, and turned to Melara, and said, "Look, can you stop calling me sir? It bothers me. Call me Nalan, or make up a nickname, or something." The last bit was muttered, but still audible.

Melara seemed to be thrown off track by his last words, but she nodded her head slowly. After a moment, she said, "Magic."

"What?" Korwin asked. "Magic what?"

"You. That's your nickname. Magic." She said with a bright grin.

He raised an eyebrow at that, and said, "Why?"

She looked at him like as though it should have been obvious. "Well, because you get all those weird feelings that everyone's always talking about. And the thing with the tusken's in the camp that night? I almost shit my panties when I heard you yelling. And then to find out that not only did you waste three of them with your vibrodagger, but you got two more with one of their weapons. And you just woke up, because something didn't feel right?" She cocked her head to the side, and smiled again. "Magic."

Korwin rolled his eyes, and then said, "Why not something fierce, and deadly? Something big and powerful, like Rancor, or, or, or, Shark, or something like that. A predator or something."

Melara shook her blonde head and said, "Because that's not who you are." Just then, Korwin heard someone shouting for Melara. It was Kreth, who'd become something like a big sister to her, despite the fact that she was younger. She turned her head to look, waved to Kreth, and then said to Korwin, "I'm gonna go talk to Kreth. See you later...Magic." She grinned and walked away from him.

"Oh well," he sighed, "better than boma."

Deciding that maybe a nap would be better than a walk, he headed back to his tent. He took off his boots, stripped off his jumpsuit, and climbed under the sheets on his cot. From there, it was short box ride to dreamland.

"That was the start of the Magic thing. She called me that in front of a few people, and then they started calling me that, and then it just spread. The name stuck too. Even my squad started calling me Magic. Except for Haslin, he always called me boss."

Laina laughed lightly, and said, "You didn't like the name then?"

He waved his hands in a half-hearted protest, and said, "No, I liked it fine. As far as nicknames go, it actually wasn't that bad. And I really did like Jenna. She was a good soldier, despite her early insecurities, and she did some great things." He took a sip of his water, and set the glass down.

Laina looked down at her notes, and then checked the time. "Well, looks like it's about time for lunch." She smiled at Korwin, and he smiled at her. Or possibly the idea of lunch.

"I'm on it." He said, standing from his seat. "How about some Nubian delivery. My treat again."