A/N: Given how serious things have been lately, I decided it was time to intersperse the uploads of more serious stories with something a little more light-hearted. Enjoy!


Coruscant was as muddling as Crosshair remembered. The sights, sounds, and smells of the metropolis reached out into the nonexistent horizon as far as his senses could reach. He didn't have enhanced senses like Hunter, but the surrounding influence on his mind was definitely noticeable. He didn't like Coruscant. It was crowded, noisy, and unfamiliar. And from what Crosshair had seen, it was a freak hive. Not as obvious as some place like Tatooine. But the potential was still there - the potential, and the reality. The people who lived here either inhabited this unfortunate creation by circumstances out of their control, or pure stupidity.

The whining thrum of traffic in all its variety of vehicles and pedestrians faded somewhat as the lift doors closed behind Crosshair and his teammates. Tech punched the button for the top level of the Senate building and they started up. Crosshair's scowl grew. The cacophony outdoors had faded, but the difference was nearly imperceptible. The noises were unfamiliar. And he was heading into unfamiliar territory.

Malice from one direction or another drove criminals into the underworld of Coruscant, and it was malice that had snagged the Bad Batch following yet another successful mission. The malice of a particular medic, and an as of yet unidentified group working for the Separatists.

Crosshair saw no reason why he and his batchmates should be thrust into such unfamiliar territory as this. Whatever that blasted medic thought, their mission was a success. Wrecker had only needed a few stitches. Tech was just catching up on some sleep. Hunter certainly hadn't required all those wires running in and out of him like some droid under maintenance, and it wasn't as if Crosshair hadn't broken an arm before. The way they'd been treated, one would think the Bad Batch were fresh out of the tube. It was ludicrous.

And now they were being sent for two months - two months, for stars' sake - on enforced leave which had turned out not to be leave at all, but a sneaky way to get the Batch into some mission they had never been designed for.

Ding!

The lift opened and Crosshair hung back, following sullenly as Hunter led them down the carpeted hall towards Commander Fox's office. Why had the CG commander sent for them? And who had referred them to him in the first place? Commander Cody oversaw their work in the war and directed their missions - main missions. There were several situations the Bad Batch had fallen into and pulled out of with one hundred percent satisfactory results. So why were they being called in now with no confirmation or briefing from Cody? The 212th commander always informed them of any upcoming missions whether complex or commonplace. Crosshair didn't like it at all.

He liked the CG commander even less. The man was waiting for them at the entrance to his office. He beckoned them inside, no doubt scrutinizing them behind his tinted visor.

"Take a seat, gentlemen."

Crosshair entered before anyone else and immediately flung himself down in the first chair he came to, stretching his boots out toward the base of Fox's desk. They weren't here officially - on record supposedly - so Crosshair could do as he pleased. An obvious lack of respect for the CG head man's office would doubtless ruffle him. And it was Crosshair's best shot at figuring how this man ticked.

He glanced up at Hunter as the sergeant stepped over Crosshair's outstretched legs. Hunter caught his gaze and held it as he slowly sat down in the chair alongside Crosshair. He apparently had no qualms about testing Fox's limits either. First impressions were important. And it was obvious that Hunter didn't care. He bent forward, braced his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands, resting his chin atop intertwined fingers.

Crosshair slouched.

Wrecker stumped to the third chair in the room and sat, looking curiously at Fox - a little suspiciously, too. Wrecker usually followed pretty well on the general tone of a situation, inferring facts for himself. His wariness was no surprise.

Fox seemed to pay no attention to any of this. He seated himself in the chair behind his paper-ridden desk and leaned back, folding his arms as he surveyed them. He insisted on nothing.

As far as Crosshair was concerned, his attempts to evoke a reaction were as yet unrewarded. An impression had been made; he knew it. But Fox still said nothing, merely removing his helmet and setting it on a pile of papers while Tech trotted in and perched on the only available surface remaining in Fox's office. The edge of the CG commander's desk.

Crosshair narrowed his eyes and stuffed a toothpick along the inside of his cheek when Fox flicked a glance at Tech and huffed.

It was silent for a long moment. Wrecker's leg began to bounce, his boot tapping out an irritating monotone of tuneless notes on the metal floor. Crosshair ground the back end of his toothpick, relishing the irritating pressure. And Hunter finally spoke.

"So, Commander Fox," he breathed. "Why'd you send for us?"

"I didn't." Fox looked at them in turn, meeting their eyes for a long moment each time. Crosshair returned the stare, pushing every ounce of defiance into his eyes. Fox smirked, and the back end of the toothpick flattened completely.

Hunter frowned. "Your lieutenant gave us the message. He met us on the platform. But we've been here before."

"We're registered," said Crosshair.

Hunter nodded. "Even if we weren't, you've got a system for that. No need for designated soldiers to report to the commander of the Coruscant Guard unless..."

"Unless there is something else going on," said Tech. "Why did Commander Cody not inform us of this mission?"

Commander Fox had a smile on his stern lips. He stood and wandered to the window, staring out at the mist-stained streets and buildings beyond his office confines. Crosshair watched the commander's reflection closely. He appeared both pleased and unnerved. After a long moment, he turned back and looked at the Bad Batch.

"You're here on a two-month leave. Correct?"

They nodded. Except for Crosshair. He watched.

Fox sighed, pursing his lips. "I've never met you before now. And I make it extremely plain that I have no reason to trust you."

"Likewise," hissed Crosshair. Hunter elbowed him.

"But...Commander Cody does," said Fox with a twitch of his eyebrow. "I've been asked to pass on the orders left by Marshal Commander Cody until he can return to Coruscant and communicate with you personally."

"Way-way-wait." Wrecker rubbed a hand over his head, looking uncertainly between Hunter and Fox. "What's happened? Why can't Cody talk to us?"

"Face to face," said Fox. "We're juggling some extremely ill-balanced situations here. Cody was good enough to send you boys along. I'm...sorry you got sent here on medical leave - that's a blow to any man's pride - but something of the sort would've happened, injuries or no."

Crosshair made an effort to amplify his displeasure, but Fox didn't take any notice.

"What's the mission?" said Hunter.

Fox sank into his chair and shuffled through a few papers; more for show than necessity, Crosshair thought. He pulled the splintered toothpick from his mouth and flicked it into the waste basket by Fox's desk before reaching for a new one, this time holding it firmly between his lips. Tech shifted into a less precarious position on the desk corner, and Wrecker and Hunter sat back in their seats.

Fox took a breath.

"Politics are involved, and that means more complications than simply pulling the trigger on a target. There is an informant to one of the agencies in the Senate. Details on what are impossible to divulge, but I can tell you that it is imperative he be found before a rival group locates him. You have been called in for retrieval. Simply that."

"Who's asking?" said Hunter.

"General Kenobi is aware of the finer details," said Fox, "But it was actually Senator Amidala of Naboo who requested someone be sent to look into the matter."

Tech cocked his head. "What about the Jedi?"

"Our...main Jedi investigator is currently on another mission of equal importance," said Fox. "But even if that weren't the case, the Senate has deemed this affair beyond the influence of the Jedi. There's a lot of unrest right now concerning the Jedi's involvement in certain things, so General Kenobi left the furnishings to Commander Cody and sent a message to Senator Amidala informing her that help was on the way."

"So why the face to face?" said Tech.

"'Cause someone found out about that message, duh," Wrecker growled.

Fox nodded, scowling. "Exactly. Someone discovered the General's response to Senator Amidala's message. So far, we have nothing to suggest that the senator's message has leaked further than that, but we couldn't risk other interested parties finding out. All automated communication in regard to this matter was cut, so - "

"So how have you and Cody worked this out without speaking as we are now?" said Crosshair. He rolled his toothpick and slid it to the opposite side of his mouth.

"Commander Cody had sent me your files recently. General Kenobi and Senator Amidala had already communicated about the situation. So, when Cody sent me a brief message saying that some friends would be coming on leave, I knew it was you boys. And we were able to speak on private comm. Vaguely, but that code set hadn't been tampered with. At the time..."

Wrecker snorted, and Hunter shot him a brief look before replying. "Surely, you've got private comm channels? Encripted?"

Fox shook his head. "The only reason we could communicate further was because the Jedi operative here works undercover and is equipped for dodging what we can't avoid in this scenario. We know it's someone on the inside."

Wrecker shifted. "Sounds like a problem."

Fox huffed grimly. "Oh, it is. But for now, we need to find that informant."

"What sort of information is he carrying?" said Tech.

"I can't tell you that," said Fox. "But I can tell you that he must be found within the week."

"On Coruscant?" Crosshair spat. "Maybe in a few years."

Fox shrugged a little desperately. "We don't have that kind of time. My men have been at work on it, and we've narrowed it down to a much smaller area than the entire planet, I can tell you that. He did tell Senator Amidala a few details when they spoke. But there's only so far we can go. People will talk, but in a lot of cases, 'clone soldier' look and uniform is enough to lock people up tighter than a starving sarlak's grip. Talk is absolutely impossible to even attempt when a person doesn't spill because you're a clone."

The commander shrugged and hooked his thumbs over his utility belt, tilting his head as he observed them. "I don't think you boys will have any trouble with that..."

Hunter huffed and ran a hand through his hair, casting an amused glance at Wrecker. "Yeah, we don't exactly look normal, do we?"

"The more different the better," said Fox. "There can be no hint that we're even involved in running our own search for the informant."

Crosshair pulled himself up a bit in his chair and folded his arms. "So, what's this about? You've told us we need to find an informant before the bad guys get him first. You've said you've narrowed down the field of search to a - supposedly - reasonably sized expanse. And we apparently need to conduct this investigation discretely. Now how about you tell us what exactly we're looking for, how we can find this informant, and so on."

"Precisely," said Tech. "Who are we looking for? Male, female, what species, what purpose..."

"It's a human male," said Fox. "He's named Dren'Mal, and that's all I know. His chief had communicated with General Kenobi in the past, and we have an image of him which Senator Amidala saved from the short call they had, but shortly after we established contact, it was cut. So, we start with the assumption that our enemy knows exactly as much as we do. Possibly more."

Hunter huffed through his nose and shifted. "Which is...?"

"What I've already told you."

Hunter's raised eyebrow dragged one side of his features crooked. "That's it? That's all you can tell us?"

Fox shrugged helplessly. "That's all I've got."

Hunter frowned at his boots, then stood. "C'mon, fellas. Sounds like we'd better get started."

Fox saw them to the door. "I wish there was more I could give you boys to go on," he said.

"We'll figure somethin' out," said Hunter. "We'll go set up in our temporary quarters. You know how to reach us." He nodded to Fox.

Crosshair did not.

He suddenly disliked Coruscant even more. Not only was it shadowy and crowded, it was deceptive. Just like this situation. Something difficult to maneuver. Hard to sort.

The difficulty didn't bother him. The lack of data did. If obtaining the required information was part of the challenge, so be it. But he would eat a pack of toothpicks if deception wasn't in the mix.