Chapter Five: "You've got your work cut out for you, I'm taking?"
"I'm looking for accuracy and speed," Ski announced once his squad had lined up for shooting drills. With a simple glance down the line he could tell who was ready for action, unfamiliar with basic firearms, or unsure of themselves totally. "You might be a fine shot, but if it takes you seconds to line it up, you will find yourself sporting a nice hole through your chest, or worse yet, your head."
Rinin elbowed his partner. "I was concerned he would mention other body parts as being worse." He had tried to keep the comment quiet, but the majority of the squad had heard it anyway.
"We all know you don't have any of those," Trika jibed, charging the blaster in her hand and giving the Twi'lek an evil wink. A few chuckles ensued, but no one issued any threats. Unlike the past couple of trying days, the general atmosphere actually remained friendly.
Captain Ski cleared his throat, but it was unnecessary. His people were ready to determine whether they could hold their own in the shooting arena. "Operations, let's give this a whirl."
Taking his place beside Danya, Ski watched as the four Human-shaped targets came into view and settled fifteen meters in the distance. Kendrick and Kevin drew blasters almost at once and shot the typical three times before standing down. Danya and Quis followed suit, although Quis was a bit slow on the draw and ended the round solo. There was no need for the targets to come forward, for at such a distance, and with such shooters present, there was truly no need to get a closer look. Kendrick, Kevin, and Danya were superbly accurate, landing hits in the torso area and the kill zones on the head. Quis, on the other hand, while knowing a great deal about weaponry, had little experience in the use of such machines. Her scores were not so defined. She would need a little work.
"All right, Support, let's see what you can do." The four members stepped up to the line and waited for the targets to come into view. Mekial gave a brief glance and smirk at Ty that let him know exactly which team would win the competition. The targets settled, and the four almost unanimously drew weapons. All three shots came out perfectly timed, and the end result was amazing. Jaren and Telia landed all three shots in the head with a sadistic pattern through the eyes and mouth. Rubi and Mekial practiced a head shot and two torso shots.
All in all, the support team was very accurate and very sharp.
"Intrusions, let's move," Ski ordered, particularly interested to see what kind of accuracy the specialized commando unit had. The targets came down and settled, and all four members drew blasters and fired. At the end of the session, there were more than a few questions left on everyone's lips.
Trika and Milan were not such bad shots, but there was definitely room for improvement. Somehow Trika had taken out a throat without really meaning to. Milan nailed his target's head on two shots and took off an ear on the third. With a little practice, Ski supposed both would be excellent shooters.
Jane's results only amplified her unusual talents and secrets. She was as good of a shot as the squad's snipers, all three shots centered in the middle of the face. However, the mystery came from Stone, the squad's combat expert. His target remained perfectly clean, leading him to take a closer look at his issued blaster.
"Did we happen to give you a wasted issue?" Ski asked, approaching the man to see if he could help. The commando was already taking the gun apart with expert handling.
"I was just shooting it yesterday," Stone grumbled, a little more than embarrassed. Inspecting the inner workings of the blaster, Stone was surprised to see a small disc interrupting the flow between chambers. While intelligence made him hesitate, curiosity got the best of him. Plucking the disc from its perch, Stone was quite literally shocked to receive a jolt right down his spine. The initial surprise made him jump, and his body spasmodically danced for a split-second.
Ski stepped back with a brief chuckle despite his efforts to hold it in. Stone had stopped shaking, and now that he was holding the disc, he could clearly make out the tampered areas and the sabotage of his weapon. Lifting his gaze from the object to his teammates, he eyed a couple of them squarely. The entire squad was filled with smiles and giggles.
"Yeah, yeah... laugh it up," Stone growled, shaking feeling back into his slightly burned hand. He began to reassemble the blaster together with a sure motion and eyed a few of his teammates. "I have a feeling I know which one of you did this, and payback from me is not a pretty sight." After snapping the last two pieces together, he hefted the weapon, tilted parallel to the ground, and then began to fire as quickly as the chamber would recycle, emptying the entire energy pack in one go. When the noise had stopped, the target bore char marks all over the head and chest region, with one shot left for where a kneecap would be on a Near-Human. Stone holstered his weapon and rejoined Intrusions, smirking confidently at Trika, who wore only the most angelic and innocent expression.
Captain Ski nodded his approval. "Ops II," he called as the targets changed out, "show us what you've got."
It was more than a unique sight to see the second operations team step up to the shooting range with a bit of confidence. Perhaps Kithera had given them a pep talk in the hour between drills, but it appeared that their emotion and zest were a bit more permanent than the emotions caused by a rousing speech. The four took their places in line and waited until the targets settled before opening fire.
The initial round was over, and the results very good all around. Kithera gave a little shout of satisfaction after finding out that Ops II had practically tied with Support. Ty gave Mekial a cheesy smile. His team might not be pushovers after all.
"Good work, teams," Ski congratulated his squad. He was actually thrilled that everybody was at least decent at something. "We've been testing each unit to ensure that everyone is in the correct slot and will work well with the other members. Although we've had some tangles and some incidents, I'm positive each of you will work your hardest at being a team player and contributing to the larger cause."
Kendrick straightened a bit and acted as if he wanted to speak. "Yes, Three?" Kevin prompted.
"Sir, would the larger cause be working toward lunch?"
Kevin cocked an eyebrow. "Are you that eager for a repeat of your first experience eating here?"
Kendrick shuffled. "No, sir. I've actually found the food locker near the kitchen. There are some fantastic rations hidden behind all of the raw meat and pots of green goop." About half of the squad perked up upon hearing those words.
"I already looked back there!" Telia protested.
"Did you check out the freeze-dried fruit in the sealed compartment?" Danya asked.
Kevin cleared his throat and calmed the group. "We are about to take a lunch break, yes, and whether you choose to brave the mess hall or whether you make plans of your own is up to you. We're going to run through this drill three more times with some different setups and distances, and then you may go. This afternoon we will begin station training, which is much more specific than our testing grounds. After you make the rotation through combat and pilot training, shooting drills, and survival training, we will split by expertise and become adjusted to the system that we will all work in. Divisions will include engineers and mechanics, infiltration, combat, and smuggling, as well as a special section for our computer experts. I will need a thorough analysis of our home here and what we need to keep our missions secret. As we stand here right now, we've no security at all, let alone a decent system to keep us all connected like we should be."
Trika grasped her chest as if she had been shot. "You mean we're practically naked right now?"
Danya glanced at Trika, then glanced away quickly, an expression of disdain flashing briefly across her face. She turned to her partner, trying to make her voice sound neutral, but not quite succeeding. "Sir, are we getting a different computer expert in with the new team?"
"That has yet to be decided, Two, so I'd suggest becoming friends with Eleven as soon as possible."
Danya frowned, far from satisfied with that answer.
"All right, folks, let's dig in," Kevin brought his squad back to the present. "Ops, targets are moving to twenty meters. Let's move!"
*****
They had survived lunch, but they could have probably used more survival training before encountering Bullwinkle in the mess hall.
"And as you can see," Bullwinkle said, biting down and enjoying another bite of his rucksack, "they have a nice, minty flavor. Go 'head and take a bite. They're on me."
"Umm... thanks so much." Danya rolled her gray-green eyes, getting a good sniff of the "food."
"What a great privilege," Quis agreed, hesitantly grabbing her rucksack and daring to bring it closer to her mouth.
Bullwinkle felt proud as the enlisted personnel started, or at least pretended, to devour their pack. The operations team was on rotation for the mess hall, and he couldn't wait to have the entire squad knowledgeable about rucksack consumption and survival training.
Kendrick smirked as he avoided eating entirely. "Hey," he said rather cockily, "what happens when we eat our packs? What do we do with our C-rations?"
Bullwinkle shook his head, as if Kendrick should know what to do in such a dire situation. "As every good soldier should know, your cans of Spam and ljutefisk strips are designed to double as hand-to-hand combat weapons, in case you run out of ammo." Sergeant Bullwinkle waved to Stone, who was awaiting his signal to come into the teaching session. "I've pulled aside one of the intrusion team members to help me out. Our combat expert, Stone, shall illustrate."
With a shrug that clearly stated he didn't have any clue what he was doing or why he was doing it, Stone took handfuls of Spam and ljutefisk from his own C-ration cans and got into a combative stance to demonstrate battle maneuvers opposite of the scary Sergeant Bullwinkle.
*****
Throwing yet another datapad across his desk, Kevin sighed loudly enough to be heard outside his office. His home on the first floor of the Nest was completely cluttered, a mix of profiles, useless data, requests, and orders. The overwhelming feeling gripping his chest was normal for the amount of stress he was under, he supposed.
The training was going... well. The day's piloting training session had been a little hairy, though. Several would-be pilots had experienced a few scrapes with some skyhooks, and a New Republic patrol vehicle had chased the squad's shuttle, the Hawk, around Coruscant airspace. Someone had apparently made a bet with another member on how well he or she could operate the shuttle's turrets. The perpetrator had put the weapons on low power and zinged the patrol car by accident. Captain Ski planned on investigating the matter more closely. He had to give the crew a lecture about such things, encouraging that such pranks and bets only take place at the Nest and that they be harmless. He then had to apologize formally to the police, an event he never again wished to experience.
However, the Talons were working hard, and that was more than he could really ask for from the odd grouping of soldiers. With every day that passed, the Talons seemed to become more of a unit. For the moment, Ski would have to overlook some of the childish antics. Most of the immaturity was actually helping everyone to like each other. Ops II had collectively taken apart his protocol droid, H9-0, and dumped him into the garbage disposal. After disciplining the team with kitchen duty, he had spent three hours attempting to put the droid back together. The annoying machine usually took the brunt of the squad's anger, but as long as Ops II had benefited from the prank, he could forgive the deed and let it stay in the past.
The problem between Jaren and Telia had not been solved yet. He had checked up on his team earlier that night and found an array of dishes and tools strewn around the hallway near Telia's door. The two had been fighting and were still going at it when he interrupted. Neither would talk, so both ended up with 'fresher and kitchen duty. While they were switching off jobs, they could think about their issues and see about compromising and resolving them.
Some of his equipment had arrived also. He had acquired a new transport: an old, modified YT-2000 that had powerful weapons and enough cargo space for a whole contingent of troops. Kendrick had already christened it the Eagle, keeping with the tradition begun by the Hawk. Kithera had adopted the Eagle as her baby, volunteering to make some basic modifications to the engine and hyperdrive. He was rather impressed with his lieutenant's enthusiasm. Whether he decided to declare her the executive officer or give the title to Lieutenant Kai, he knew that either way the choice would be difficult.
Danya and Trika had given him a rough estimate of three weeks to get the Nest up to standard code for electronics and computer equipment. He had hoped for a shorter time, but he figured the aging building would need such work. Both computer experts still didn't seem to be getting along, but maybe they now shared some respect for each other considering they were the only ones qualified for their positions in any capacity. Quis was probably smart enough to know a bit about hacking, cracking, and slicing, but the experience those two had made them indispensable.
They had also given him a large order to give to Intel. The price tag of such equipment and tools would not please his superiors, and it was not something he was prepared to request. It seemed like every time he required some bit of machinery or data, all he received were incomplete, broken, useless items that were sent late, if ever. Most of his first day's requests had actually been ignored completely. None had appeared on the intelligence community's HoloNet system.
At the moment, though, the two computer experts were busy setting up some preliminary terminals and areas that were secure enough for his personnel to use. Danya and Trika had left his office bickering about some sort of wire usage and what kind of encryption to set up. He supposed they would get along well once they got through updating the building... or maybe they would end up killing each other in the process.
A slight knock at his door shook him from his mixed and troubled thoughts. The tall Jane Muir stood at attention, awaiting his response. "Come on in, Lieutenant," he called, gesturing for her to have a seat. "Drop the formalities. It's very late and I don't feel like being proper at this time of night."
"Yes, sir," Muir replied, taking her seat. She still held onto her formal titles and sat up straight despite the order.
"What can I do for you tonight?"
Muir gave him a puzzled look. "I'm your appointment for the hour, sir."
Kevin cocked an eyebrow and looked at his chrono. "Kriff," he spat, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Did I, uh, happen to mention why I asked you here?"
Muir chuckled at her superior, obviously amused by his apparent lack of sleep and attention to schedules. "You mentioned little," she said, taking an absent look around the cluttered office. "Are you having a bad evening, sir?"
The captain leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes for a brief moment. "I've just got a lot of things on my mind and on my plate," he told her, feeling oddly comfortable with her company despite her lack of enthusiasm. Jane Muir was still the same stone-cold woman, even after a couple of days at the Nest and with the entire intrusions team underneath her.
"It isn't us, is it?" she asked, though there was no real concern in her voice.
Kevin opened his eyes and turned to regard her. "Some of my squad bring some amount of stress, but the stress is more from the outside. I've just received a request to return, within a week, an entire medical and psychological evaluation for each of my members."
"That doesn't seem too hard." Muir shrugged. "It does sound redundant, though. Aren't you sending the information back to the ones who originally sent it to you?"
"Yes." Kevin nodded, then smirked at the irony. "The surprise came because I was informed that the information they gave me is wrong. They want the correct information because they were too lazy to get it themselves."
Muir suddenly understood. "Does that mean that our posts will be changing?"
"I don't think so." Kevin shook his head, then attempted to organize a few of the datapads. "The squad would have let me know if they were not qualified for a specific position. I do worry, however, that their qualifications may have been exaggerated. I also have the records from all of our training these last couple of days. In many cases, the numbers don't add up."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Well, I have a number of personnel who have amazing scores for the shooting range," Kevin began hesitantly, unsure if he should be telling her all of this. It did feel good to get the ordeal off his chest and into the open. "Jaren and Telia are among them, but Kendrick is almost as good as they are. For a pilot, he has a shot worthy of the best snipers, yet his record states little military history and even less about his personal life before the New Republic."
"The whole thing sounds interesting."
"It's frustrating," Kevin corrected lightly. "I was counting on having a little bit of an idea about whom I would have in my squad, but I'm almost back at the starting block." He threw a folder onto a huge pile behind him. "I've got supposed hotshots who couldn't even work their shields properly today, and others who didn't know how to read formations that I believed to be too basic for this squad. Telia is almost as good of a pilot as Kendrick or Ty, but her history is just as incomplete.
"Intel is also demanding a classification for Trika and Milan. If they're classified as a 'pure Human' according to Stone's physical assessment, they'll qualify for certain New Republic benefits, but if they aren't, they'll have to pass exams and physicals more frequently than the other members." Kevin rubbed his aching head with his free hand. "I've also got to get some sort of handle on chemical imbalances and mental capabilities. I can't have half of my squadron shaken awake because a few members have odd nightmares and visions hours before dawn."
"You've got your work cut out for you, I'm taking?"
Kevin nodded rather weakly. "Stone isn't done with all of the physicals, but he's finding that a good many of the squadron have a trait that I don't even want to think about."
"And that is?" Muir prodded, curious.
"Stone has a couple of members who already test high for Force-sensitivity." Kevin let it out with a sigh. "He thinks it may be causing Ty to read maneuvers more quickly in the sims... and become distracted. Even though she hasn't shown it yet, Telia tests high as well, and like I said, he's not even done with everyone."
Muir mused over the facts for a moment before answering. "I think you've been set up, sir."
"I agree," Kevin said, Muir's summary fitting perfectly in his present scenario. "You'd think I'd welcome this particular problem, but so far, the Force is a major pain in my neck. I can't have such a distraction at this moment. I need consistent, solid leaders, not erratic cases of dysfunction."
"But if someone could train them?" Muir began to protest.
Kevin shook his head. "No one has been able to control them thus far," he reminded her. "That's a big reason I believe they were sent my way. They'd need a lot of time with a master in order to control what ails them, and Luke Skywalker isn't exactly in the business of inviting total psychos to his academy." He sighed yet again before giving Muir a direct and almost surprised look. "Why am I even telling you all this?"
"That's my job, sir," she said simply, a touch of pride in her voice.
"What do you mean?" Kevin asked blatantly, feeling the urge to search for her datapad for possible editing.
Jane Muir smiled slightly, then tucked the expression back underneath that stern visage. "The information on my past is probably incomplete, but it may mention my involvement with several mercenary groups of small fame."
Kevin indeed began to search, having trouble picking out her particular history amongst the others in his mind. Coming across the profile, he carefully read the highlighted portions. "It says you climbed the ladder of the 301s."
A nod came in response. "I specialized in E.I.F.T.E. for a number of years. Their top leaders found that -"
Captain Ski held up a hand to stop her sentence. "E.I.F.T.E., Lieutenant?"
"Extracting Information from the Enemy, sir."
"You mean -"
"I tortured people, sir, and for a very long time," Muir confessed, never missing a beat. She might have been nervous, however, for she did rub a hand over her long brown hair, the sudden motion like an odd twitch. "I didn't have to use any tactics on you, sir, but there are more subtle methods of making someone feel at ease, or directing a conversation towards divulging information."
"I suppose I can be glad that I am not your enemy," Kevin held back a full smile, more than a little anxious about Jane Muir's hidden talent. This new bit of information was unusual, to say the least, but probably the least of his worries. "Well, I think I can log that and call it a night," he said, standing to end the meeting. He was already considering grabbing some form of hard liquor to forget about the day. "Anything else, Lieutenant?" He sincerely hoped that was the end of her experience before the New Republic.
"No, sir." She stood to attention and awaited his dismissal. He gave it after a moment, admiring her discipline, and watched as she exited his office. Thus began his hunt for some form of drink to help him get to sleep and hopefully erase a good many memories from his mind. He made a move for the bottom drawer of his desk, when his eyes caught the small figure standing in the front entranceway.
His eyes darted up to see her, a diminutive child who looked to be no older than five standard years. He couldn't really tell for sure if she was a little girl, but he figured she was. A straw hat covered her whole head and prevented him from seeing her face. He dared not move lest he scare her off. This... apparition was curious to him, though, and he couldn't take his eyes from it.
Ski dared to stand up and take a step to the side of his desk. The child just stood there, tattered clothing draped over her body loosely. Burn marks scorched its tan design, and only by moving to the side of his desk could he see that her bare feet were burnt. His face drew up in disgust, in horror of the specter. Who could she be? he wondered, questioning his sanity in wanting to take another step towards her. He moved to do so, bringing his foot around the corner of his desk. He would almost be at the doorway -
His chrono rang, signaling the middle of the night. He jumped at the sound, visibly shaken by the alarm. Unconsciously, he looked back at the chrono, and even though he knew what he would see, he had to look back at the doorway.
The child was already gone, leaving him to ponder the horrors of his past returning to haunt him.