"So, where we goin', sarge?" asked Deku, prompting Kal to look from the ration bar (cardboard-flavored, with a sprinkle of boredom, usual fare on Salaund) he was chewing.
"To the rendez-vous point with the rest of the strike group. Which you should know if you had listened to the briefing, trooper." Answered the NCO, with a pointed look toward his subordinate, speaking up to be heard over the din of the poorly maintained repulsorlifts of the armored personnel carrier carrying the squad in the drylands above Scrag Hole.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah…Hey, since you listened to that drek, who we gonna shoot this time?" continued Deku.
"It's on a need to know basis. And we aren't part of those who need to. We just have a job to do."
"So you know jack shit. Typical." sneered Kal, happily jumping on the occasion to score some points over his superior.
"Heard some of that is strings pulled by the previous head honcho of this mud ball, got run off by the First Order a few months back." This time it's Five-Seven's turn to pitch in, an unusual occurrence. At the sergeant's inquisitive look, she shrugged and continued "Overheard it from the comm techs…"
"The Rufian potentate?" Kal cut before the sergeant could inquire further "I heard she was a slimeball, even by the lofty standards of the Outer Rim."
"Hey, that's tark shit. I got my information straight from the bantha's mouth meself." This time it was Nine-Eight, from the sergeant's fireteam, who pitched in "One of the spooks roped me in an interrogation, had to work over a prisoner who wasn't ready to talk yet. Well, I didn't stayed for the whole chat afterward, but seems like the creds and blasters were coming from some Republic trash, making up trouble for us. Can't they see we're doing their job, bringing order to the Rim?"
"Peace and order, one dead lowlife at a time. The Rim today, the Core tomorrow." Kal said semi-seriously, parroting the propaganda screeds of the First Order.
"Hey, I don't believe you, Nine-Eight, 'cause that with those scrawny arms, you'd have a hard time stealing lunch money from a Jawa kid, let alone getting a punk to talk."
"Go suck a Hutt, bitch. When I was done with her, she was singing like there's no tomorrow."
"More like asking for real men to come in. And I say you're full of bantha shit, 'cause I dragged a few bodies from the ambush and they had Black Sun tats. Clear as day."
"Black Suns don't let anyone carry their ink or leave their gang, so likely the real deal." said Kal, drawing upon his past experience in the lower level of Coruscant.
But before the conversation could continue, the APC shuddered to a halt and the driver announced "Sorry to interrupt your tea time, ladies, but we're at the rendez-vous point and the Army's already there."
As the squad prepared to pile out of the vehicle, the sergeant spoke up to be heard "I'm not about to get shown up by some Army broad, so no back talk. Anyone who steps out of the line gets volunteered for latrine duty 'til we ship out from that dust ball, Clear?"
And with a chorus of half-hearted assent, the squad stepped out.