Space is quiet to some people, however R7 would consider it loud. Sensors read back all kinds of background radiation and the various "sounds" it produces. While the Corsair's sensors were tuned to ignore said radiation unless various algorithms flag a sudden spike or even weirder a sudden dip in said radiation, the little astromech had grown tired of waiting, even in a mostly deactivated state. Waiting for something to appear, something to give R7 cause to wake his flesh and blood crew. Was this what creatures called boredom? He couldn't be sure, after all, he had only just received a full wipe shortly before being assigned to this mission. The ship had been adrift for two years. Two long years and nothing of note had happened, the beacon towed by the ship's aft had been dutifully repeating its broadcast again and again over those two years. "Mayday Mayday Mayday! This is the RAS Corsair! We are adrift and need rescue! Mayday Mayday May-." R7 tuned it out, hearing Agent Drogen's voice made him want to wake the crew.
R7 rotated his head towards the door leading to the crew quarters, to the cryo bays, to them. He couldn't know what their vitals were. Unfortunately, Cryo freezing made it impossible to notice any signs of life. The droid stopped this line of thinking. After all, wondering whether or not his crew was even still alive under the ice would only drive him mad. Mad? Could he be driven mad, or would it just be a glitch in his programming? Either way, it didn't matter. He rotated his head back towards the forward viewport. Yup, those are indeed VERY distant stars. R7 wondered how many of those stars still existed and how many had died out long ago.
—-
Four years. At least that's what his internal clock reported, unfortunately, R7 had no real way of confirming this assumption and chose to just accept it. Thinking about thinking was becoming a common issue for him. The beacon was still running as much as R7 wished it wouldn't. Then again the only other sound for him to hear would be generated by himself. Oh well, what should he do today? Count stars? Take bets on which, if any, would disappear. X797V-014S9 as he called it looked a little dim today.
"Mayday Mayday Mayday! This is the RAS Corsair! We are adrift and need rescue!" Yes, yes we do. The droid chuckled to itself, or at least he thought it was a chuckle. What is humor, why do sentients laugh? Oh well, nothing he should bother about. The sensors had picked up nothing save for the occasional rumblings of hyperspace. It was odd, the other dimension led fellow ships so close to him, so close to rescuing his crew. And yet they just couldn't hear us…. Oh X797V-014S9 seems to have brightened back up!
—-
"Mayday Mayday Mayd-." Shut up! Why couldn't she have thought about how He'd feel? Sure he's not a living creature like her but he still had feelings! Eight years and nothing! Not a ship! Not an asteroid! Not a damned comet! What's there for a droid to do? Not like he could connect to the holonet and watch a show or listen to the news and see if the Republic had gotten its head out of its ass and won the war! Not a single thing to do and all the time to do it! With an annoyed whistle, the droid roused himself from power-saving mode and disconnected from his station. Stupid Drogen! Stupid clones! Stupid CIS! As the droid made his way down the ship towards the engine room he could only feel what he'd describe as a fire in his processors. A want to do harm and stop whatever caused this fire raged great… The reactor, there's no one to stop him from overfiring it. Just a few deafening minutes and his isolation would be over. Of course, to get to the reactor he had to pass the cryo bays. Might as well look them in the eyes before he killed them. And so he did… one minute should do… make it two… oh… the fire is out, now there is only a hole. The droid went back to his station. Is this what they call emotions?
—-
Twelve sickening years had been rough on the little droid. With the reactor running so low for so long the sensors now had to be primarily offline with periodic reactivations to conserve the limited power the reactor was putting out in its state. R7 knew this wasn't permanent, once the reactor was kicked back into full gear the ship would have all the power it needed. Of course, that wasn't the issue. The lengthy amounts of time the sensors were offline made the droid effectively blind to any oncoming obstacles the void had to throw at him. Unfortunately, the only other things left that he could reroute power from were the cryo bays and the beacon. Neither of those was an option. He couldn't see X797V-014S9 anymore. It had moved beyond the range of his viewport a year ago, and even after the slight dimming the star still shown. He took it as a final farewell from his gaseous friend.
R7 ran his clock again. Ah, it's time to run the sensors. Beep boop boop bop. Why'd he think that? Wait what's that? A star! A planet! There are settlements on the planet! Saved! They're saved! The droid chirped with excitement removing himself from his station and plugging into the main console. The ship's reactor groaned and then hummed as it rose to full power, one by one the lights activated and the engines spun up. Finally, the viewport's HUD powered on. Wait a minute. That's a ship.
The ship which was now illuminated by the HUD was a freighter of some kind. Something made with whatever was on hand however it was clearly space-worthy. Its spotlights shown back and forth as if it was looking for something… or someone. R7 momentarily jumped with excitement. Even better, he could contact them now and be escorted plaentsi- oh no. As the freighter rotated, a single symbol could be made out on her hull. A claw wreathed in flames, pirates. As quickly as he had intended to activate the local comms he even more quickly spun up the twenty-eight camouflage projectors bringing the ship back to its invisible nature. He shut off the beacon and powered up the engines. For the first time in more than a decade, the ship lurched forward under its engines rather than inertia.
He had to get away from the pirates and closer to the planet. There he could be safe. As time passed the freighter grew more distant and the planet grew less, he finally felt safe. Disconnecting from the console he moved to the cryo bays and plugged himself into the cryo bay. "Wake up my friends, The sun is shining!"
—-
Stitch had been hungover before, they all had. Despite what the Republic media liked to claim, the clones got up to shenanigans just as much as anyone else, maybe even more. This wasn't a hangover, this was a sledgehammer on a nail and his head was the nail. Everything was blurry, everything was fuzzy. 'Where am I? What's happening? Oh right, the mission.' Stitch understood now. He was suffering from Cryo sickness as his body became reaccustomed to being at its natural temperature. Though his vision was blurred and his hearing dulled by a low ringing he could make out the shape of his comrades and the excited beeps and whistles of R7. His head pounded with every sound emitted from the droid and by the sound of the dull "Shut up!" one of his brothers had a similar gripe. The self-proclaimed medic of Epsilon was slowly becoming accustomed to the world with each moment, as such he did his best to stand and treat the blurry shape of his companions.
Unfortunately, this ended about as well as could be expected when his still-thawing muscles and not quite existent equilibrium both failed him causing him to tumble back over. 'That's right, the droid's meant to take care of us isn't he?' Stitch could only lay his head back against the cold floor. 'Rest stitch, just rest.'
Over three days the crew of the Corsair were slowly nursed back into shape by the Astromech. With each day their sight became clearer, their hearing sharper, and their biological functions became more normal. R7, for his part, worked hard to ensure the five individuals were well taken care of. The droid saw to it they ate their proper rations and administered Vaseehydraline to ease the burdens of their cryogenic stasis. He often joyfully chirped about various events in space and would routinely bring up a star that the droid had labeled with a name so long no one bothered to remember it and rather called it the X-star. Especially in the later days of their recovery the five humans would start to talk amongst each other, usually on the topic of where and when they were as R7 often avoided the subject.
By the fourth day, the crew was back on their feet having become far more talkative although there was still some silent animosity between Warlock, Reek, and Drogen who all remembered the very near fatality of the RI agent. By now they had all observed the planet the Corsair orbited, the planet was a green world with some oceans covering stretches of its surface. Large areas of the world's continents were covered in large gray or brown patches which scanners identified as large cities. The Northern Ocean appeared to have turned from a vibrant blue to dull green which left some concerns to the ecological status of the region.
In space the planet had many visitors who came and went, unfortunately, many were of a pirate nature, these ships bore the flaming claw which had been an infamous symbol in the galaxy for centuries untold. These were well mixed in with the many standard freighters that came and went from the planet. Of course, speculation could only do so much and by the final day of their recovery, everyone had become bored and somewhat antsy. Badger, naturally, decided to act. He had ordered Drogen to monitor any comms traffic she could pick up the moment both had been coherent enough to understand each other. The agent had irked but complied, Badger assumed she wasn't used to taking orders from clones, especially so soon after being held at gunpoint. After three days Melina had finally compiled a report for the Commando.
"Military traffic is non-existent, either there is no military present or our relay can't pick them up. Given the power of this ship's comms system, even with the long-range relay inoperable, we should still be able to pick up any chatter." This meeting had gone on for over an hour, as stuck up as the Coruscanti was Badger couldn't deny her thorough nature. "Civilian traffic is a whole other story, the world appears to be an industrial world, and a few corporations run most of the industry on the planet."
"Any indications of where we are?"
"A few comms tags mentioned Edusa. Either this is Edusa or this world primarily trades with them. The worrying aspect is the timestamp on these tags." She paused and let out a ragged breath. Whatever she was about to say had her shaken and Badger didn't quite like that. "They're all dated 18 years ahead of our time." Everything seemed to stop onboard the vessel. 18 years, if the time stamps were correct nearly forty clone years had passed since their entrance to hibernation. For Melina it was hard enough, her family would be a little over a decade and a half older but as your average human she could still come back to them. For the clones, the situation was much more horrifying. 18 years for a clone was equal to nearly forty years, any clone companions they had were aged out of service or worse, had all passed on. To make matters worse that meant their mission, as potentially war-ending as it was, had likely never been completed. How long had the war gone? Who won? Was it still going on?
"They could be wrong... Right?" Warlock broke the silence. Behind the sarcastic nature of the wolf-decorated commando was still a man who felt. Everyone was nervous for the answer, unfortunately, Melina's answer crushed any lingering hope.
"Unless the planet's communications relay intentionally broadcasts an incorrect timestamp, it's impossible." Badger wouldn't let silence take hold of the ship again. "Now's not the time for pity, as far into the future as we may be we are still soldiers of the Republic. We need to make contact. Stitch, Reek, and Drogen will go to the planet's surface and get a lay of the land. Warlock, you and I will maintain the ship, see if we can't dig up anything else".
There was no responding cry of "yes sir" or "right away". The clones simply moved to do their duties as they were trained. Their training had made them used to the thankless work, unfortunately, Melina was not so convinced. "Sergeant Nine-eight-."
"Badger." He cut her off before she could assume any authority. "The name is Badger or sir, if you have concerns agent, you should make them quick and dress in your civies." The woman cringed before speaking again. "Sir, why planet-side? I'd be of far more use here where I can monitor comms."
"You're an intelligence agent are you not? You'll get more chances to gather Intelligence on the ground." The commando looked moved back towards the pilot's chair. "I won't hear any more complaints get prepped for deployment."
—-
The trip down to the surface had been quiet, there was little to say between the squad. The mission was obvious to Melina, she wasn't unused to fieldwork. During the short course of the clone wars, she had conducted field operations and intelligence gathering on the streets of Coruscant both above and below the 15th level. CIS sympathizers had been all too common on the capital planet and they only got more common the deeper she went into the massive city.
That being said, she had never been far from home. A mission gone bad could be handled by a deployment from the Coruscant Guard within minutes of the agents making a call. Here was different, There was no Coruscant Guard to count on, there was no home to be nearby, there were no fellow agents to count on. There was only her and the two clone commandos accompanying her. She didn't have long to dwell on these thoughts. Nine-eight, or Badger she supposed, had proven himself beyond a novice pilot. He had descended through the atmosphere quickly yet smoothly, landing the ship just out of sight of a nearby town.
'Time's up and mission is a go.' Standing up from her seat she followed Reek out the Corsair. Both he and Stitch had dressed in similar civilian attire wearing dark blue pants and a gray shirt with a jacket that varied in color, Stitch wearing a dark tan and Reek wearing a brown. Melina herself was not dressed too dissimilarly though she also wore a small backpack meant to look like a traveler's bag. All three were armed, Melina bearing a DC-17 while the two commandos each held a DC-15s sidearm. They both also bore their gauntlets with their attached vibroblades. She didn't hope for conflict however she had to respect their preparedness.
The walk to town was quiet though not silent. The trio walked in a reverse triangle with the two clones at the front and Melina following behind them. The wilderness was a new experience for her, while the field training conducted by Republic intelligence included wilderness training the girl was decidedly, both by herself and her superiors, meant for the more urban environments that she had been raised in. She wasn't used to the more natural colors that surrounded her or the occasional annoying unevenness of the unpaved road. On more than one occasion the girl had tripped over a loose rock or a dip in the dirt and the brothers ahead of her chuckled at her every falter much to her annoyance. As for the commandos, they were mostly silent save for said chuckles or some hushed whispers between the two. Melina wasn't sure what they were speaking about, a part of her wanted to know though she curbed her curiosity for the time.
The road moved up before again moving down and on either side, there was nothing but plains or forests. The air itself was lighter than what she was used to though she didn't love the oddly quiet nature of the area. Her training told her she was being hunted and yet the body language of her comrades was clearly that of someone at ease. She couldn't help but wonder about predators, while she had long since dismissed the bed stories her mother used to tell her she knew that wild creatures existed. She couldn't help but wonder what may come from the thick forests on her side. Then again She wasn't entirely sure the two commandos weren't the most dangerous thing in the area. As much as she saw herself above clones she couldn't deny their effectiveness in combat. She was well aware of the stories from battlefield to battlefield of rugged clone troopers who charged forth against unrelenting armies of steel and wire. Clones who fought and died without care and didn't stop fighting till their last breath had left their bodies. That of course was the average trooper, which only made her wonder what the extent of a commando's combat prowess was.
Finally, after some time a town came into view. She had seen the factories on the horizon the moment they had landed which had granted her a fleeting illusion of a distant Coruscant. Unfortunately, the town surrounding said factories shattered any hopes the core-worlder had of a more "civilized" settlement. As opposed to the durasteel skyscrapers and busy skyways this town was shorter and stout buildings appeared to be made of concrete; the sky was mostly empty save for the occasional ship taking off or landing in what appeared to be a starport.
She had hoped to take charge once they reached the town, after all, information gathering was her specialty. Unfortunately, Stitch had other ideas in mind. "We'll make for the marketplace, look around, and listen in. Try to loosen a shopkeeper's tongue if you can." While she didn't disagree with the medic's plan she couldn't help but be annoyed. This was her chance to gain some authority and he had stolen it.
The town itself was more dreary than she expected. While crowded and lively in a sense, there was an air of danger about the place. It was as if the town itself was anxious and by proxy so too were its inhabitants. The more she looked around the more she realized the tenseness of the situation. Mothers clutched their children's hands much more tightly than was common and all eyes were constantly on a swivel. She could tell that no one felt safe.
The marketplace itself held an equal air of danger. Stall keepers held heavy gazes of suspicion even to the many customers who arrived at their stalls. Even the concrete buildings serving as stores had boarded windows despite clearly being open. There was no haggling that Melina knew to occur in markets, simply the quick acceptance of price and moving on. Melina had listened into a few conversations none of which were of any worth to her, only business transactions or familial matters. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Reek had elected to jump in line for a fruit stall. The commando likely hoped to get some words from the shopkeep while paying for the fruit. Of course, this also made her privy to the keeper ushering him along clearly having no care for his questions. While unfortunate she couldn't help but giggle at the commando as he grumbled his way back to his comrades. Ever the opportunist she spotted another chance to establish some kind of authority.
"Stitch, see if we can locate a tavern or cantina." The commando nodded to the woman before separating from the two, likely to ask around for their hoped establishment. Unfortunately, as Melina had just realized, this left her alone with Reek. She was still on edge thanks to her near-death experience at the hands of the two more expressive commandos and being stuck alone with one of them did not ease her mind in any way. For his part, the commando seemed quite nonchalant about the situation and continued to walk alongside the agent only occasionally sparing time from scanning his surroundings to glance at Melina, whom he knew had been stealing nervous glances at him.
Finally, the commando decided to speak up after finishing a bite of his purchased fruit. "You know it wasn't personal right?" His statement was anything but comforting.
"The lack of personal aspect is not what has me on edge. You aimed a blaster at me." She now fully locked her eyes on the commando, watching his every move. Melina was afraid of the commandos, Warlock and Reek especially. The two clones had proven to be more expressive than the average clone and there was no doubt in her mind that the two would happily jettison her into space if they had been given the chance. "Have you ever been shot before One-eight?"
The commando cringed hearing his number spoken. Reek liked his name, he gave it to himself after all. The commando had been known to be more brash despite his role as a preferred sniper. Even their trainer, with all her exasperation, had accepted his name as she couldn't deny the fitting image or the commando's unrelenting insistence on being called by the name of such a beast.
"Yeah I've been shot before now stop calling me by my number. You'll get a lot more friendly if you just use my name once and a while." The agent didn't respond. She only lightly rubbed a spot on her left shoulder briefly before returning to her glances.
As for Reek, he only sighed in minor annoyance before offering a bite of the fruit. Melina for her part stared at him with a challenging glare. "You've already bitten into it." The commando only shrugged at her before taking another bite
Before the silence between the two could get any more awkward, the medic returned to join them. "Heard there's a cantina just a block down, named Mynok Row." The Stitch noticed the silence between the two and raised an eyebrow at his brother who only half shrugged in response. With no words shared the trio then turned towards their target.
The Cantina itself was hard to miss. The brightly lit signs and the sounds of drunken laughter stood out among a street of mostly dull concrete houses. If Melina had to guess, the patrons likely considered it their one safe zone in town. The inside itself was just as excitable. The dining room was brightly lit with both bar and table dining. A band was busy setting up on stage, likely to start playing within the hour. The hospitality was also nothing to scoff at. Not a minute had passed before a Togruta waitress had come to seat them.
Having been seated the trio scanned the menu, listening to the crowd and various conversations. Most bore no fruit being laughter amongst friends or a flirty batch of customers. Melina herself was at a loss, she didn't recognize a single item on the menu. It wasn't hard to notice the agent's plight. Reek and Stitch shared a knowing look. The two then loudly discussed the menu, mentioning some items that they recognized from 79's back on Coruscant and what they liked about the items. Melina knew what they were doing, she appreciated it though she would never admit it to them as they would likely never let her forget it.
With their orders made the three could return to listening to other patrons, on occasion they would make small talk amongst themselves nothing of great value but enough to appear like they were enjoying a night out on the town. Melina for her part was growing more bored by the minute, her food had arrived yet little information had been gained. Sighing to herself she let her attention wander again to the various other patrons in the bar.
"Wife's been nagging me lately, with the storm coming I've had to take more time preparing the fields."
'No.'
"Taxes are going up again?! Damn, Imperials do nothing for Edusa but take all the cash!"
'Edusa? That gives me a location. But who the hell are Imperials?'
"Ya aren't listening to me! I recruit three people inta the business and they recruit three more! What's so hard to understand!"
'No, and you're an idiot'
"See the way Ki'ra was lookin at me? She wants-"
'Ew'
"Heard from a friend running the Corellian, been a terrorist attack on Ryloth, made off with a whole ship"
'Terrorist attack?' Melina focused on the conversation, and while likely not prudent to her goals his innate curiosity got the better of her.
"Bet more Imperials are headed that way then? Betcha they're drawn from this sector." The two patrons who she was now eavesdropping on were a pair of Weequay, their outfits were indicative of shuttle pilots likely for freighters by their speech. Again they brought up Imperials. This nationality was not one Melina had heard before which only made her more curious about the situation.
"Ah well, more asteroid hopping for men like us then, Ha!"
And just like that the conversation devolved into uselessness for Melina. She turned her attention back to the two commandos. "We're definitely on the planet Edusa." Stitch nodded to her while Reek commented back. "Great so we know where we are. What's the plan now?"
Melina dead-eyed the commando. "Not sure, I keep hearing them use the word Imperial. I can't say I know what they're referring to." Stitch's face gave away some disappointment. "Yeah, I've been hearing that too, I was kinda hoping you'd know what it was." Melina shook her head with some shame though a part of her was glad the commando had that kind of faith in her. "No, the way it's spoken about tells me it's a nationality that has power from here to Ryloth. But that doesn't make sense, that would cover Separatist and Republic space. No matter the outcome of the war it would stand to reason that these Imperials took territory from either or even both." Reek took time to share a possible solution to the predicament. "Maybe they just hold scattered holdings? Like bits of territory including here and Ryloth?"
Melina shook her head. "The use of the term sector would claim they hold a decent amount of territory, at least two sectors worth." Stitch picked up on what she was implying, "And with Ryloth being as far from Edusa as it is, the likelihood of these Imperials holding all the territory between here and there is good?"
"Not good, almost certain." Both commandos frowned. After all, if a foreign nation held this much territory, then the Republic must have lost a war and lost badly. The mere fact that this wasn't Separatist or Confederate space told them it wasn't CIS space, though it was a possibility that they rebranded after winning the war. Either way, for two troopers of the Galactic Republic, it didn't leave a good taste in their mouths.
"We need to get back to the Corsair." The three were silently in agreement. Reek raised his hand to flag down their waitress however before she could bring them their check the door to the cantina slammed open. Just like that, the lively atmosphere of the cantina evaporated, everyone was silent, and everyone was on edge. All eyes were on the two individuals who had passed through the doorway. The two men were both armed and decently armored. Their clothing and armor were what the agent would associate with a "traditional ruffian" and their weapons were self-modified. The lead man was a Human with a scruffy make up and the second was a Rodian.
The Human approached the bar with an almost carefree smirk. "Say now Lels 'tis quite the crowd, oddly quiet yeah? Are you making these poor customers drink in silence?" The bartender didn't respond though it wasn't hard to tell that he was in distress. A few other patrons grumbled in annoyance though they were careful to not be heard. "Ya know you're supposed to respond when your friends ask you a question. Ah well, you've always been the quiet type ain't that right Lels?"
The bartender could only shakily nod. Even if he could beat these two there would always be more and they would be far less forgiving. "Say, your pals here are just a little tight on credits right now. How 'bout you go and "lend" me some?" Again the bartender could only nod. He turned to the back room to retrieve his lockbox. Of course, the two weren't done stirring up trouble. "What's with the graveyard in here? Let's get a little lively, yeah?!" The man grabbed a bottle off the shelf and popped the cork.
Stitch gave a glance to Reek who nodded to him. Stitch, now sure that both were on the same page, unfastened his holster and prepared to draw his sidearm. His eyes calmly bore down on the Rodian who was now laughing and drinking with the human. He would only need one shot to kill the thug and Reek would need just as much to kill the other. It was a textbook kill, then a hand was placed over his. Stitch snapped his head to the side, locking eyes with Melina who shook her head.
'What could she be planning?' Stitch's eyes bore into her questioning her motives. Reek had noticed the stare down and silently observed. What seemed like a minute passed in the span of a few seconds before Stich grumbled and relatched his holster. Reek sighed and followed suit. By now the bartender, Lels, had returned from the backroom and opened his lockbox for the thugs. The human ushered the Rodian forth. "Well, now you're doing well this week, aren't ya, yeah friend?" The Rodian took credits from the lockbox, while the trio could not see how much was taken it was obviously more than a "fair share".
The pair, now satisfied with their heavier pockets, turned to the door. "See ya next week Lels!" With that, the pair exited the cantina. Stitch turned towards Melina who was already standing up. "What're you doing?"
The former agent turned towards the commando with an expectant look. "After them obviously, The whole reason we aren't shooting them now was to follow them back to where they came from." The commando smirked then looked to Reek. "Go with her, I'll cover the bill." Reek nodded to him and rushed after Melina. The pair followed behind the thugs as they continued down the street. It did not take long to notice the reputation of these men proceeded them. The crowd parted as they walked, likely attempting to stay as far away from the men as possible.
The men, for their part, didn't seem to care, they laughed and traded jokes. They came upon another bar and stepped inside. Melina held her hand in front of Reek. "Wait, it's likely not their base of operations." The two stood across the street making small talk while watching through the crowd for the men. "You've done this before?" Melina turned towards the commando to answer. "A few times, Coruscant isn't nearly as friendly as the army likes to think it is. Sometimes a little cloak and dagger is needed." Reek nodded before turning back to the bar.
After some time the men exited the bar once again laughing and drinking. The pair resumed their pursuit of the thugs. As the night sky got darker and darker the streets gradually got less crowded, forcing the pursuing pair to be more discreet. Slowly the distance between them and their target got greater and greater until they were forced to follow from a great distance. Melina couldn't help but feel annoyed with the route they were taking. It was illogical and seemed to create a pattern. '..wait a pattern?'
Reek noticed it just seconds before Melina did, tackling her into an alleyway just in time to avoid a blaster bolt. Not a second passed before the commando drew his DC-15s and fired off two shots. While the shots went wide of their target they forced him back into cover giving Reek and Melina time to regroup. Reek for his part pressed a button on his gauntlet while Melina drew her DC-17 and fired a shot at the thug's cover. "He's suppressed!" Reek nodded before peeking towards the street. His eyes widened when he saw three more thugs coming their way. "More Coming!" Reek fired a shot, this time landing a fatal blow on the lead thug. "They can't be the only ones, we need to move!"
Melina nodded and turned towards the opposite end of the alleyway aware that Reek was behind her. Turning the corner she saw no gunmen and continued right creating a diagonal separation between the two groups. Peeling behind an entrance stairwell she aimed and waited as Reek bounded past her to take a secondary position. Five men total had been after them so far with one now dead thanks to Reek. The first man to exit the alleyway was not as well trained as the two and received a bolt to the face for his naivety courtesy of Reek again. 'Well, he is the sniper I suppose' Melina thought. RC-1118 was a master marksman, while he may not truly reach the levels of RC-1207 or CT-9904 he was still well above what could be considered good marksmanship. While only two of his four shots had been hits the two misses had a purpose to them that made the expended bolts worth more than they seemed on the surface.
The three subsequent thugs were smart enough to recognize the position they were in and did not exit the alleyway. Fortunately for them, two more of their allies had climbed a roof adjacent to their opponents. Reek once again noticed first and called them out. Melina for her part fired her second shot of the night before ducking to avoid a shot from the other. "Move back!" Melina acknowledged the command and jumped back as Reek rose and fired a third kill shot bringing the hostile count back to four. The three trapped in the alleyway charged out to fire at the couple though their count was again whittled down to three as Melina scored her first kill. The sole-roof gunman fired down on the pair. Much to the dismay of the pair down below, the gunman held a light repeater which unloaded hot plasma on the street below forcing both Reek and Melina to cower down in their cover. Melina could vaguely hear the two men on the street charging forward. She knew something needed to change and fast.
Another shot was fired on the rooftop and the repeater went silent. Melina paused in confusion as one of the men rounded the corner raising his rifle only to receive a shot to the arm from the rooftop. Another shot from Reek's location signaled the death of the gunman's lone ally. Melina turned towards the roof identifying a familiar face. Stitch had snuck up on the gunman with the repeater and killed him.
Stitch descended from the roof. "Are you both alright?" The two nodded to him. The medic nodded in response and grabbed the lone survivor by his injured arm. The survivor who Melina recognized as the human she had been following yelped in pain, somehow she knew Stitch intended to have this reaction. "Get up bastard, we've got places to be." The clone pulled the man to his feet and pushed him forward. "Reek keep an eye out for reinforcements. Let's move."
The trio and their prisoner made for the outskirts of town, all three were on edge. The knowledge that this city was definitely hostile made for more than enough reason to eye every shadow. By now only the street lights provided company to the group. Everyone had since gone to their homes and were likely preparing to sleep or were asleep. The alleyways of town provided nice cover for the squad and Stitch chose to take advantage of one such alley.
Reaching the end of the alley, Stitch Threw the injured thug down. He signaled to Reek who nodded and took a position at the edge of the alley. "What's your name?" The Thug spat at him "Bite me!" Stitch nodded. "Very well Mr. Bite Me. Let's make this simple, I'm normally a patient man but recent circumstances have left me more than a little exhausted. You can answer my questions and I won't have to cut you."
Bite me, as he had identified himself, laughed. "You don't have the guts. Messin with people like me will only get you killed, asshole!" The commando sighed and with the closing of his fist, a vibroblade extended from his left gauntlet. Stitch calmly placed the vibrating blade against the blaster wound the thug had already suffered. "You sure about that?" The thug who now appeared slightly less confident remained silent. "Very well…" Stitch applied light pressure against the wound. The hot vibrating knife did its job and easily pierced through the thug's skin.
His face was now entirely devoid of confidence and replaced by a look of fear and pain. "Ah AH Hey look man if you let me go I won't tell them about you I swear!" The commando gave him a bored look. "Whos they? Your boss?" The thug swallowed and held his tongue for a brief moment before he felt the blade push deeper into his arm. "Y-Yeah Bosses! A- Take that damn thing out please!"
The commando wasn't impressed. "Ah, and where can I find this boss of yours?" The thug was now thoroughly disillusioned with preconceptions of safety and answered quickly. "We- Irk. The belt!" The knife pressed deeper. "YA, The asteroid belt second quadrant!" The commando retracted the blade and nodded. "How many?"
"A Fleet of Freighters! There's plenty of us!" The commando sighed. The likelihood was that this man was a front-line grunt and he'd probably expended the length of his knowledge. "Very well get out of here." The Thug took not a second to dash the alley pushing past Melina in the process. A blue bolt followed closely after and sent the man tumbling over dead. "Signal Badger, We'll meet him at the rendezvous point." The trio exited the alleyway and made haste for the town gate. They knew they needed to make for the outskirts before morning. Once daylight shown there would undoubtedly be patrols searching for Bite Me and his friends. Unbeknownst to them, however, they were being followed.