Chapter 2

ISB Transport Ship Adversity

Agent Halle was glad that the ISB always made certain that their armory was well stocked with whatever weapons that they might need. In that armory was her preferred weapon of choice, an E-11S Sniper Rifle. It was essentially an elongated version of the classic E-11 blaster, of which their armory had quite a few. The barrel section was identical in all but length and there was a scope and a power pack on the side. But the similarities ended there. The stock was a permanent fixture, with the pistol grip connected at the end of the grip with the very tip of the rifle holding a bipod for stabilizing the weapon. The scope was a much larger and more complex one than the E-11 had, and she knew its capabilities well.

Halle was sitting at the small worktable against the wall, working on cleaning the factory fresh rifle of its storage grease and removing its safety mechanisms. She'd already disassembled it, and had a rag in hand, cleaning every surface of the weapon after clearing the barrel thoroughly. As she diligently worked she heard the door hiss open and heard the boot steps of Agent Kallus enter the room.

"I thought you'd be here," Kallus noted as he opened one of the lockers to the E-11's and removed one.

"Working on my weapon is a kind of meditation. Keeps me focused," Halle responded, "and focus is what has kept me alive."

"Including on Felucia?" Kallus asked, causing Halle to freeze for a moment as she ran the rag along one of the power packs.

Kallus noted the reaction his question had gotten and knew his suspicions were confirmed when Halle replied.

"I don't want to talk about it," Halle responded, getting back to her task.

"Well I do Agent Halle. So what happened on that mission?" Kallus outright demanded, "Two agents were assigned that mission but only one returned."

"You just don't take a hint do you?" Halle growled, her voice shaking every bit as much as her hands were.

"You left something off of that report, didn't you?"

"I left nothing off that report. Anything that is not present on my mission report was done at a higher security clearance than mine."

"So something did happen," Kallus noted, coolly starting to take apart the E-11 and letting his questions take their toll.

"You want to know what happened? Ask my commander, because I'm not talking about it so leave me alone!" she snapped before snapping the parts of her rifle together in a rush before storming up to the open rack of rifles and slamming it into place and locking it shut.

With her task completed she slapped the dirty rag into the cleaning bin at the door before storming off, her fuming audible throughout the ship. Agent Kallus knew he'd pinned down the right mission that she'd referenced at the ISB Central Office. She'd claimed having first-hand knowledge of being the hunter and being the hunted. Now he knew the mission that it had occurred during. So he carefully continued with his weapons check, glad to see that the weapon was not brand new, having already been cleaned and checked. This left his mind to continue its busy thought processes on whether he'd be able to count on his team, especially his second in command.

On the bridge the outburst had been heard as clear as day by the Adversity's pilot. Lieutenant Sage hadn't known what the context of the conversation was but he had a good idea that Agent Halle had no intention of sharing as she'd passed the bridge on the way to her quarters on the deck above. So he'd turned his attention back to his controls, disappointed to see nothing out of the ordinary so he just pulled his data pad off of the chair next to him to continue the letter he'd been writing. He then heard a footsteps come up to the bridge entrance and heard a knock on the side of the doorway.

"Mind some company Lieutenant?" the deep voice of the largest of the ISB agents asked.

Sage looked back to see Agent Breis holding two cups in his hands as he stood in the doorway, practically filling it. He noted he was still wearing the same uniform as he had when he'd boarded.

"Yeah sure, come on in," Sage replied, "I'd assume one of those is for me."

"You'd assume right," Breis responded, handing the steaming cup of caf over to the pilot who took off his helmet and set it on the dashboard of the control panel before taking the cup with a quiet thanks, "I'd say Kallus is pushing his luck with Halle."

"I'd say so," Sage nodded as Breis sat in one of the rear seats and kicked his feet up onto the front chair next to Sage, "I'd bet those two will end up sleeping with each other before the end of this mission."

"You think so?" Breis chuckled, having thought a similar prediction himself earlier.

"Why not?" Sage asked, "It's how I got together with my own girl."

"That who that letter's meant for?" Breis asked, motioning with a finger as he took a sip from his cup.

"Yeah, she's assigned to one of Kuat's planetary defense squadrons. Last time we spoke she'd gotten an apartment planetside."

"Pretty expensive to get an apartment down there."

"Don't have to tell me, I was born on Kuat," Sage replied.

"Oh really?" Breis said, "Well that makes two of us."

"Where on Kuat?" Sage asked.

"I was born in a small town called Uilos north of the capital. But my wife and son are living in the capital. She's an executive in the company, her parents didn't really like her marrying a lowly security officer. But when she gave birth to our first kid they changed their tune."

"You were a cop at the time?" Sage asked.

"Seven years," Breis responded, "I was recruited into the Bureau after working with them on a sabotage case in the shipyards and so…here I am."

"I'd bet the wife doesn't get to see you very often anymore," Sage noted.

"Yeah pretty much," he responded with a shrug, "But I've got two months leave after this mission already secured. I'm hoping I'll be headed home in time for our anniversary."

"I'm sure she'd be happy with that," Sage responded with a smile.

"Oh yeah, she loves showing me off at the company's balls and parties and whatnot. She's always said she's the safest executive in her division with an ISB agent as her husband."

"Can't say I blame her."

"What about you? Are you serious about this girl back home?" Breis asked.

"Well…yeah I'm hoping to, and you know, I think she wants to as well. But she's so concerned about her career in the fleet she's wary of getting too serious."

"Been there," Breis grumbled, "My wife was working her way up from an intern to a higher position when we started seeing each other."

"Well Rean and I met in flight school. We only started really going out after we were assigned to our first ship. And it only really getting serious when the old Unassailable was decommissioned," Sage replied, "She's been itching to get command of a squadron and then her own ship."

"Ah, she's one of those huh?" Breis said.

"Yep. Kinda like that blonde number in the command center," Sage said, motioning with his head down the hall to where the young ensign was hard at work in her station.

"She never seemed to be that kind of an officer to me," Breis grumbled, looking at the door in question.

"Just intimidated with all you ISB types around. Give it time," Sage shrugged.

"Let's hope she's not."

Ensign Ara didn't think of herself as one of those power hungry career-first type of young Imperial officers. Although she had been on both ends of that kind of accusation many times back at the academy. However she was unaware of the conversation going on in the cockpit between Sage and Breis, for which she was thankful, as all the talk about relationships and family made her somewhat jealous.

Being in a relationship, especially a stable one, gave you something else to look forward to, something to take your mind off of the daily drag of life in a demanding duty as an Imperial officer. It also gave her some manner of humanity to cling onto. The academy had drilled out many officers, but as the E-3PO unit standing next to her had pointed out they'd trained robots, not people. She was just discovering this herself now that she was off of that drab and dreary campus and into a fresh new environment where everything wasn't a regimented system like it was back on Anaxes.

So she was looking forward to meeting someone, and grabbing a hold of what that might entail for life after the military. Things such as a marriage, a home, even a family to call her own and do with as she knew was right. But it was still secondary, a mere distraction to be contemplated on her down time. Down time she had precious little of right now aboard the Adversity.

Her time was being taken up by making lists and time-lines of the rebellious activity on Jabiim, isolating the commonly used treason charge for simply disagreeing with some thuggish Army officer from true insurrection activity. There were dozens of reports of individuals being brought in for treason or sedition against the Empire in the capital alone, but there were also over thirty attacks on record on Imperial personnel and property. Many were just groups of individuals shooting blasters from afar at the Empire's bases and troops or a mine or bomb going off with nary a soul in sight able to pin down who was responsible. Yet there was another style of attack, one that had caught her attention.

The reports had shown eight different attacks since the deaths of the two initial ISB agents sent to Jabiim that were far out of the norm. These were precise, almost surgical in their precision and skill. A small group would infiltrate into refineries, bases, or outposts across the planet and then begin destroying or stealing key targets and escaping without loss from the local garrison. Each time they'd appear, they'd strike like lightning and then disappear as attacks from less skilled rebel bands sparked across the planet, more than likely copy-cat rogues inspired by their bold and very public attacks. What was worse was that this band was getting bolder, and the secondary uprisings were getting more widespread. The ISB was right, the situation was about to become desperate.

But how are we going to stop it? Ara thought to herself as she rubbed her eyes, feeling the classical soreness from a long time spent staring at screens.

"E-3PO I think I'll take a break for a little bit, can you continue time-lining those attacks and mapping them out for me? I'll add the reports from the individual incidents when I get back," Ara said, standing from her chair and buttoning up her uniform before putting her hat back.

"Very well Ensign," the droid replied, "It will be done, although I may just put in the reports myself."

"Nothing's stopping you," she grumbled under her breath as she walked out of the room and across the hall opened the door into the galley.

She chanced a look up towards the bridge and saw the blue glow of hyperspace still outside. She'd forgotten to open the window of the command center before she'd left it to check herself but now satisfied her curiosity with that simple glimpse of the beautiful sight. So she walked in and saw Agent Dowell sitting at a table by himself with a datapad in front of him with a pair of headphones on. The air was thick with the smell of a freshly cooked meal still on warming mode at the cooking station in the back of the room. Dowell had turned off the auto-chef device and had made a meal himself. This was quite a surprise.

"Did you make that?" Ara asked the young agent as she looked at the stacks of dishes as they traversed through the fully automated dishwasher.

"Yep," Dowell responded as he hit the pause on his tablet, "Felt like I'd gender some favor with everyone if I put some effort into making this whole experience a bit more comfortable. It's also relaxing to an extent."

"Well I'm not complaining about the effort," she noted, looking through the clear, but steam covered lid that held a brownish orange substance with several types of vegetables and bits of meat visible, "But is the food any good?"

"I think so, I tried following the recipe as best I could with the ingredients available."

"What is it?" she asked as she took off the lid and saw the thick food inside and was bombarded by a somewhat spicy odor.

"Chili, I used to make it all the time at home before joining the academy. First time I've made it in a few years."

"I'll give it a try," Ara shrugged, grabbing a metal, featureless bowl out of the cupboard above her head and a spoon from the appropriately marked holders on the island behind the cooking station.

"Tell me what you think," Dowell said hopefully as she ladled in a serving of the meal and grabbed some bread and bottle of tea from the refrigerator.

She brought her food over and sat down next to Dowell, who sort of hesitated at her chosen spot to his immediate left. After sitting down she placed her hat in front of her then removed the leather gloves on her hands and placed them next to her cap. She took a spoonful of the thick chili and ate it, fanning her mouth a little bit as she regretted not letting it cool off a little.

"Well?"

"Give me a minute, it's a little hot," Ara replied her brow beading up a bit with the combined spice and temperature.

"Temperature or spice?" Dowell asked with a chuckle, taking a bite himself.

"Temperature," she said as she took another spoonful and made certain to blow on before taking another bite, "But it's pretty good. You're lucky I like spicy food."

"Well that's one," Dowell said with a smile, "Hopefully the others will think likewise."

"I'd imagine so," she said through a third mouthful that she'd taken with some bread, "I know we wouldn't get anything near this quality on even a Star Destroyer. Looks like this mission might be shaping up."

"Well my parents owned a little restaurant in Carida, we catered to the Imperial Academy cadets all the time and became sorta the go-to spot for a good meal."

"You're from Carida?" Ara asked, "I'm from Anaxes myself."

"Graduate from there?"

"Of course. Where else would I have gone?"

"True enough," Dowell shrugged as he looked back to his datapad.

"What're you reading there? Nothing classified I hope?"

"No, it's the news feeds from Jabiim. I've been trying to get a hold of what's going on there."

"Good luck," Ara chuckled, "I've been doing that for several hours now."

"Agent Kallus order you?"

"That's an affirmative," Ara said with some good-natured sarcasm, "I've had a lot of data to sift through. But thankfully that arrogant droid in there isn't as useless as the rumors state and I've got a series of attacks mapped out and time-lined."

"Any patterns?" Dowell asked.

"Yeah actually I have noticed something," she said calmly, remembering something about the attacks after the ISB agents had been murdered. But she saw that Dowell was a but surprised, "What?"

"I just didn't actually expect someone not trained in investigative procedures to be able to pick out patterns in terror attacks."

"Well I did, thanks to my favorite Holonet program," Ara piped up, eager to share what she'd found out, "There've been two kinds of attacks it seems. There are scattered rogue groups that shoot at Imperial troops and facilities from time to time and after the more successful raids. These make up the vast majority of attacks, they don't do very much damage, but there are dozens of them."

"And the other kind?"

"This one is bit more complicated. From the reports I've read I think that it's one unit of rebels with quite a bit of skill going after much larger more important objectives. They hit hard, destroy or steal what they came for and then disappear."

"And then take credit for their great victories," Dowell scowled.

"That's what's odd," Ara said as she took a drink of tea, "They don't. These insurgents don't say a thing. No press release, not even a call to arms. They hit, they disappear, and they repeat the process."

"Hmm…I've heard of these types of cells. Often they're not locals, they normally operate off of small vessels with a variety of black market upgrades that keep them off of our scanners so they can come and go. They attack strategically important objectives, and then let the locals exploit their strikes with uprisings."

"A cell?" Ara asked, "You mean there's others?"

"It's really only rumor that there's more like them or that they're part of something larger. But…my hunch is that these guys are part of a larger movement that is trying to exploit the local disdain for higher authority and gain some measure of strength and legitimacy."

"There is some hope for you yet Agent Dowell," a new voice said calmly, and both Imperials turned to see Agent Kallus entering the galley.

"Agent Kallus sir," Dowell sounded off, standing upright alongside Ensign Ara.

"As you were," Kallus said, "I smelled something in here, now I see I was right."

"Oh, yes, it's something I've made since school. Figured it would be a better meal than rations."

"Most certainly," Kallus as he scooped out his own meal along with a bottle of water, "Ensign Ara," Kallus said her name, making her freeze in fear for a moment, "I expect that your tasks will completed before oh-six hundred."

"I'm almost done sir," Ara replied instantly.

"See that is," Kallus nodded before turning to leave, "I'll be in my quarters."

Kallus noted that the two of them were seated right next to each other in the midst of a very engaging conversation. He could tell that the two green individuals were, as he'd expected, close. But then again rookies of any service always leaned on others of their own age for their initial days until someone of experience took them under their wing. Kallus simply hoped that these two would control their emotions, lest their working relationship get compromised by something...more.

"Sir," Dowell said on instinct as Kallus walked out, and then realized just how ridiculous he looked, "Boy am I green."

"Yeah, me too, first mission and I can't even sit down and finish a simple task," Ara grumbled.

"Don't worry about it," Dowell replied, "What you're doing is not normal for a Naval ensign. In fact nothing on this mission will be what you were really trained for."

"Thanks for making me feel better," Ara winced slightly, poking around at her food.

"Seriously though, I think you're doing alright. It's only the first day, and we haven't had a real situation pop up yet. Once we get there our instincts will kick in and we'll be fine."

"How can you trust instincts that haven't been tested before?" Ara asked with some testiness in her tone.

"Well you can't go through an assignment like this thinking you're not up to it can you?"

"I guess not. But I'm just a command and control officer, I'm not down there slinging blasters like you agents."

"Believe it or not the ISB has entrusted you and Lieutenant Sage up there with quite the responsibility. We need you, both of you. Without you…this mission is not possible. So for what it's worth I feel like I can trust you."

Ara looked at him right in his eyes, checking to see if he had anything other than sincerity in his declaration. She saw his soft blue eyes looking right back at hers and she stopped, taking another closer look that was like that of just of a girl looking into a guy's eyes. But then she realized what she was doing, sensing the awkwardness of them just staring and smiled as she averted her gaze down to her bowl.

"Thanks," she whispered, "I'll do my best not to let you guys down."

But she caught her tongue as she felt her lips part to say it; I won't let you down, Agent Dowell.

Well I think that's plenty of character development for the time being don't you think? So I do believe I'll end it here and move on with the story. As usual tell me what you think, have any suggestions, problems, or questions leave it in a review and I'll get back to you on it.

Next Chapter Preview: The Adversity arrives at a powder keg called Jabiim.