A young man wearing AT-ST pilot gear was busy trying clean up a mess he made involving the AT-ST 'Imperial Storm 1', he had spilt caf on the hatch and was desperately trying to clean the mess. He had a damp cloth in his hand, the caf cup and a bucket to his left with his helmet to the right. The young man spoke to himself sharply as he cleaned, "Had to go and spill it didn't you... You just had to spill caf over the hatch which you just cleaned an hour prior, didn't you Carl... You can shoot targets on a wobbly, bipedal machine from a mile away... But hold a cup of caf? No! Couldn't possibly do that! Krakking Caddok will have-" His words were interrupted when he heard someone walking up behind him. He quickly turned around to see a helmeted figure in AT-ST pilot gear standing on the catwalk that lead to the head of the AT-ST as it hung from it's position.

The voice that spoke from behind the helmet was unmistakably Sergeant Major Trump Caddok's voice, "Report Corporal Caltic. Why are you cleaning the hatch again? We did that an hour ago." Corporal Carl Caltic got up from his position and quickly stood to attention, "I, uh, saw a new patch of dust on it, so I... figured I'd give it another clean." Carl knew Trump wasn't going to fall for that, he prepared himself to be disciplined. Caddok seemed to look past Carl before speaking to him again, "Lying to a superior is a dangerous game Corporal. Why did you bring that beverage up here to begin with?" Carl kept himself at attention, "I wanted to retest the equipment sir." Trump seemed annoyed, "Why?"

Carl sighed as he relaxed from his stance, "Cause all the action is on the planet below and we're stuck playing the reserved duck on this claustrophobic space-boat. There's nothing to do but check the equipment and clean the thing." Caddok was his usual, cautious, unadventurous self, "Never look forward to meeting your death, Corporal." Carl spoke back, "Yet we're to remain up here and die of boredom anyway?! Come on Sergeant Major, you can't honestly like being useless up here."

Trump's voice sharpened, "Yet boredom has no excuse for one's actions, especially not speaking back to one's superior. I should be having you run around the hanger a few times. In fact, you can go do that now." Caltic groaned, "Look, I... I'm just getting stressed out from being in space for so long." Trump remained unmoved, "You can feel sorry as you run 50 laps. After you clean up your mess." He turned away to leave. Carl spoke up, "Come on, Caddok! Can't you be at least a little human? Not everything needs to be dealt with roboticly." Trump stopped mid-step, remaining still for a few seconds before slowly turning to face Carl. Carl was expected Trump to bark at him again but before the Sergeant Major could speak, a voice could be heard further down the catwalk, "Sergeant Major Caddok!"

Both men turned to see a man in standard trooper gear and a data-pad in his hand jogging towards them. When the man finally made it to them, he spoke to Trump, "Captain Dennison got orders for us to deploy, sir. We're supposed to do some scouting." The man handed the data-pad to Trump, who read through the information for a few moments before giving a response to the man, "Very well then. When are we expected to depart?" "Within a hour, sir." Trump shook his head, "Make it an hour and a half. Small technical issue with the AT-ST..." He turned to face Carl, who could feel Trump's eyes glare at him through his helmet. The trooper nodded with a slightly confused face, "I'll get the rest of the group organized."

As he walked off and Trump seemed focused on him, Carl whispered 'Yes!' while doing a small arm-pump. He was back at attention when Trump turned to face him, "Caltic, where is your gear?" Carl pointed directly behind himself with his thumb, "In good ol' Stormy." Trump sighed, that was the stupid nickname Carl gave the AT-ST. "Well you better get it together." Carl grinned, "Yes, sir." His grin faded when he remembered he had a damp cloth in his hand, "Uh... What about the hatch?" Trump grabbed the cloth from Carl's hand, "I'll clean it, because you won't have the time to clean it yourself." Carl gave him an odd look, "What do you mean? We have an extra half-hour to work with." The Sergeant Major simply responded, "No, you have some laps to do." Carl gave him a look of bewilderment, "You expect me to run 50 laps in 30 minutes?!" "No, I expect you to run 15, with your full kit." Carl protested, "You can't be serious?!" "20 laps. And if you don't come back within 40 minutes, I'll find someone else to be my gunner." Carl's face reddened with anger, "You couldn't possibly-" "25 laps. And yes, I can. Move it Corporal, you're burning time."

Carl stared at Trump in anger before turning around, throwing open the AT-ST's hatch and jumping in to get his stuff. He then quickly got out of the vehicle and ran down the catwalk to make his way into the main hanger. Trump simply watched him run before dropping the cloth, closing the hatch and fetching for a water hose.

--
Heading towards the planet's surface
--

The ride was pretty much uneventful and it wasn't going to take much longer according the the transport pilot. Carl wasn't overly patient however, his mind raced around with the thoughts of facing combat for the first time in his god-like vehicle. He could already see the rebels cowering in fear from the sight that was Stormy the AT-ST. He starred blankly out the view port of the AT-ST, his hand on the controls as if he were about to drop into actual combat. He was torn from his thoughts as he heard the hatch to the AT-ST open up, he took a quick glance to see Trump climbing down and taking up his seat. When he sat down he removed his helmet before inspecting his side of the controls.

A few seconds passed by before Carl broke the silence, "Why did you wait for me?" Trump looked at him with a 'hmm?' Carl seemed a tiny bit annoyed, "Why did you wait for me? I was 6 minutes late to the time you gave me. Why didn't you get someone else like you threatened." Trump's face remained unmoved as he turned his attention back to his controls before speaking, "Because I can rely on you." He gave a quick glance back at Carl to see a puzzled look on his face, "You're stubborn Caltic, which can make you a good soldier in a fight, but at the time of that situation, you were nothing but a nuisance with that attitude. However, I can rely on you to do what you're told to do. Want to know why?" Carl turned to face out the view-port again as he leaned back in his chair, "Because I'm too stubborn to fail... I don't know when to give up... Yaddy yadda yadda. My dad said the same thing when I was young. Then I joined the army without going through the academy out of spite." Silence again took the cabin by storm, the only sound that could be heard was Trump fiddling with switches and the hum of the transport's engines. Carl again broke the silence after about half a minute, "You still didn't answer my question, by the way. Why did you wait for me?" He turned to face Trump again. Trump slowly and casually turned his head in Carl's direction, "I figured I could be human." A small smile cracked his face, Carl half thought Trump was abducted by rebels and replaced with a clone who could actually make jokes.

Carl faced out the view-port again, "What did you go talk about with the others, anyway? The Sergeant and the scout trooper?" He pointed at the trooper who had delivered the message to them who was standing and talking with another trooper in scout trooper armour. Trump gave a quick glance through his view-port before returning his attention to his controls again, "We spoke about the events that happened down there specifically and what to possibly expect. While we'll be dropped at the starport, it's good to keep these things in check. We also gave each other our personal comms channels, just so we can keep track of each other." Carl looked back at Trump, "You suspect they'll have new orders for us on the ground?" Trump nodded, "I suspect we'll be split up. Sergeant Lant there-" Trump indicated to the man Carl had pointed to earlier, "-and his two troopers will probably given guard duty over a base as they aren't a full squad. The three scout troopers will most likely be given the job we would like to do as a group while we may have a variety of jobs given to us, guard-duty, support, patrol or whatever else they feel they need an AT-ST to do." Carl looked puzzled, "Why would we want to be together as a team? Why does that matter?" Trump took a few seconds to think before giving a response, "Captain Dennison ordered that we should try to stick together, make it easier for when we depart from the planet." Carl shrugged, made sense he guessed.

The sound of the transports speakers caused both men to change the focus of their attention, "We'll be landing in T-10 minutes." Trump gave a nod of confirmation to the disembodied voice before putting on his helmet, "Gear up, Corporal." Carl rolled his eyes, not like they really needed to gear up when they were landing in a heavily defended Imperial location. He, however, decided to follow Trump's orders.

Trump started the AT-ST, it's engine grumbled to life. A number of displays came to life and a few holographic images did as well. Trump spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, "Stabilizers functioning, fuel tank nominal." Carl did his system check as well, "Weapon heads up displays are functioning. Blaster weapons fully charged. Targeting systems active." Trump continued to press a few buttons as he spoke, "Check the 360 hologram target viewer while I check the comms." Carl looked between them, and there sat a holographic display of the AT-ST and it's surrounding environment. It was positioned in such a way they both could look at it out of the corner of their eye. A few green dots appeared before turning into holographic representations of their allies within the transport. "Holo target viewer functioning." Trump nodded as he flipped a switch, "This is Imperial Storm 1, call-sign C-21. Are you receiving me Sergeant Lant?" Sergeant Lant could be seen giving a thumbs up as he spoke back to the AT-ST crew, "Affirmative, Sergeant Major. Can you hear me?" Carl gave a thumbs up out the view-port, getting a chuckle out of Lant. Trump rolled his eyes, "Yes Sergeant, we hear you loud and clear."

--
Two days later
--

Trump was grateful that the group managed to stick together, though he didn't know how that happened. At first, it seemed they would have been split apart when a tired looking Lieutenant was giving them positional orders. His mind seemed to change when Carl spoke with him privately, though Carl hasn't explained what he said to him or how he managed to convince him. The group were given orders to simply patrol around the living districts, Sergeant Lant and his two troopers would be the 'friendly' faces that spoke with people while the AT-ST walked around with them as if it were a pet. The three scouts would simply drive around on their speeder bikes within distance of the AT-ST, keeping their eyes out for anything suspicious and reporting frequently. Trump had the task, as highest rank of the group, to keep track of what info and suspicious characters they came across. Most of it was simply speculation, rumors about the neighbor or outright paranoia of rebels hiding in their closets.

Carl wasn't overly pleased with how things were going however, "I wish something would happen... A bar fight... Rebels feeling desperate and engaging us... Something!" Trump rolled his eyes before going through his data-pad again. In his off time he would spend time adding info into his personal journal on the device, probably not the most private place to put sensitive information, but it at least helped him with his side of the boredom.

Harold had finished some paperwork on some ships and others going by, keying in times, dates, reasons, the normal things. He preferred doing the simple things so that his officers could deal with more pressing issues. This wasn't to say Harold was lazy; he was old, not lazy. But his Officers were faster and more reliable on a computer, especially when there was only one of him. He had just finished the last document as he entered it into his ships datalogs when he decided to stretch and take a walk for a bit. He exited his office and headed for the bridge to see how his men were doing. By this time he only had his most trusted officers at the helm of his ships and his others at other menu's throughout the ship doing check up duty or patrol. Upon entering the bridge he noticed the officers were gossiping and they immediately hushed when he entered. "Uh, Captain on deck!" one shouted, "at ease," Harold said. By this point this cliche was simply a formality as he didn't care or force it among his trusted men, but they felt like they still had a place even with their newfound purpose. "So what did I miss? Did I hear talk about women and cognac?" There was a pause, the cold silence that only emitted menu noises and slow, but soft, button presses. "Well speak up, because I've been rather lonely too!" Harold grinned as he started to laugh, his officers unable to keep their silence as they laughed as well. One spoke up as Harold took his steps towards what everyone called 'Den's Window' the window he would always look out through to see his mission objective or goal, the ship as specifically positioned for the view. "Why don't you grab one of the lady troopers you have, Captain? I'm sure there's plenty when you're captain!" The men laughed again but Harold spoke up firmly as he stared out. "No! I have many women aboard this ship compared to others, but that doesn't mean we treat them as tools or property." The men felt scolded as they quited down, feeling they crossed the line. "They are equal to us, men. Men of the Galactic Empire. And only I can treat them as tools and property! Because this is the Galactic Empire!" That killed it, it even raised the guards laughter by the doors, no one could hold it in. It was a quick and swift joke from the Captain, and since he was already containing the laughter before he finished it, the laughter soon extinguished itself as the others kept laughing. However, now, Harold wouldn't be laughing as he saw something in the distance. Some sort of ship? He questioned why it wasn't being escorted by any fighters or why there weren't any fighters heading towards it.

As soon as the laughter slowed to a stop, Harold, keeping his eyes on the vessel, walked over to the men, behind their consoles. "There, what is that ship doing? Why haven't any of you hailed it or stopped it? Someone explain to me why we're not checking on that ship." The men lost their silly moment and got serious, some not even knowing what was going on went searching to find an answer. "It uh, it gave us clearance codes sir." "What do you mean, clearance codes? Officer, you do know we were given specific orders to stop and check every ship that enters or leaves, right?" "Yes Captain, but these codes basically are telling us that they are under orders from someone higher than us, maybe even the governor." Harold gave an odd face, a confused look as to why he would be given such orders and then have ships like these, as long as they had their special codes, being given unrestricted access. Harold wasn't exactly surprised as he has known the Empire has its secret ways, even in the Republic they had secrets. But this didn't seem right. What was so important or valuable that would allow these ships through. "I'm going to head to my office, I'll be back later. If any of you find any information on those ships, send them to me." As Harold turned towards one of the exits to the bridge, he yelled back at his Officers just before leaving, "I'll bring the cognac when I come back." He hurried to his office, wanting to know why lower individuals get to go over his orders... again. It felt just like the Republic. The Jedi only needed a little training for a little time and they could take control of entire fleets out of nowhere; it developed a distrust for them, also making him dislike it as he would work so hard for a high position only to be belittled. He wasn't going to be belittled like that again.

Upon reaching his office, he immediately closed his door, activating the sound proofing inside and grabbing his chair, activating his monitor. As soon as he turned it on, the information the Officers found were coming in, but they were useless information. He kept scouring through what the Officers found, it was all just datalogs, similar to what he was doing earlier. Shipments... shipments were coming in from these transports. Days, times, dates, ETA's, all useless, everything else listed as classified or otherwise. However, although it was useless, it was the only information available. Harold would soon discover that there was basically no information on these ships, but there had to be. To be given special clearance codes there needs to be a reason and Harold was going to find out, and he didn't care what kind of trouble it would get him into. He started to scour through other files, files kept by personnel, some of his soldiers, even looking through files held by the Governor and other ship Captains, even looking at commanders down on the ground for information, but he found nothing. What could they be hiding he thought. But then he paused, peering at his monitor as he felt he found something, and he did. Files, records of an Imperial asking questions about the transports. He pulled up her file to look through it as he read through the records. An Imperial Security Soldier, which seemed logical as the transports could be seen as a break of security which would be cause for concern. But it doesn't seem like there's quite much. All the information he could find seems to stop at the mines. Isn't that where the Rebels are? Trump's there too. He pulled his commlink from his pocket and activated it. "Bridge, Captain Den to the Bridge. Listen, I need a Scout Trooper team be sent to the ground" He continued, closing his monitor and deactivating the sound proofing, leaving. "Prep them immediately to meet me in the hangar." He didn't rush, as he had to stop by a storage room for a recording device. However, under the circumstances, he felt this disconnected communication was futile as to what he was doing. He grabbed a holocommunicator from the storage room and grabbed a Trooper from outside, "Uh, yes sir??" The trooper was startled as he was grabbed. "Soldier, could you get this to the hangar immediately? There are some Scout Troopers being prepped to land on the planet, give it to them." "Understood, Captain!" And with that, he released the soldier from his grip and the Trooper turned to start dashing down the corridor, heading to the Hangar as fast as he could.

Harold pulled out his personal comm once more, "This is Captain Herald to the bridge. Are those Scout Troopers ready yet? There's been a change of plans. I've sent a Stormtrooper with something to the Hangar, have the Scouts meet with this Trooper before leaving. The Scout Troopers mission is to get that device to at AT-ST pilot 'Sergeant Caddock.' Tell him to contact Harold Dennison as soon as possible. After that, they are to return aboard this ship. The Transport taking them is to await their return unless told otherwise by myself. If someone else higher than me says otherwise, tell them they have to take it up with me. Captain Den out." He wouldn't lie, he was worked up a bit. This whole situation bringing up bad memories of the past, immediately losing command of anything as soon as he worked hard enough to grab it, he was pissed. But he knew he required a clear head for what would soon come, so he retreated to his quarters. Before walking into his room, he stopped an Officer patrolling the corridor. "Report to the Bridge, Officer. if any soldier needs me, tell them if it's not an emergency, then they can wait. Understood? Just hold the bridge until I return, anything happens, you wake me? Is that understood." The officer nodded in a way that he understood the Captain was a little stressed and needed to cool off. Maybe thinking he sometimes needed it too. "I understand Captain, have a good rest." "Yeah," Harold said, before walking into his quarters, locking his door and going in search of his bed.

Cad felt his anger rushing through him, his dive to escape the thermal detonator had wounded him but he didn't feel it there was so much anger. He heard voices muttering behind him and in his helmet but they seemed a million miles away. His heart seemed to beat like a war drum as he walked through the door way, he found nobody not even a single trace that there were rebels on this floor then he noticed the lift. "They took the lift, find them." He shouted at the army troopers who started running back down the stairs afraid of the angry storm trooper at their backs.

When they made it to the bottom floor it was to late the lift was empty and the rebels were no where to be found, walking outside into the streets he took a look at the battlefield and realized the damage on both sides. His radio crackled to life with the whoops and cheers of Imperial squadrons shouting victory and war cries. The sky was filled with imperial fighters and ships, the battle was over but the war for Belona was just beginning. He knew that some rebels would be blending in with the population as more imperial teams moved in. Cad was feeling his adrenaline flow out of his system the pain hit him like a ton of bricks reaching over he clutched his left ribs with his right arm while his left hung limply at his side. Command started calling back all troopers and so he went.

---

Two Days Later

He had sent messages to the family of those in his squad, but he wasn't looking forward to this last one but it had to be done. Sending the communication a twi'lek appeared in a smaller and probably a much more blue version of her self on his communicator, she studied the man on the other end, his storm trooper dress uniform and some of the medals pinned to his black tunic, she knew right away and she broke into tears. "I'm sorry miss Zavier. Lucilan fell on the field of battle, he died a hero and his sacrifice will not be forgotten, I will ensure this his effects will be sent home momentarily where the rest of his family and you as well can grieve." The Twi'lek nodded and she said something to Cad that stuck with him. "Make them pay." She said it was perhaps spoken out of anger or grief because her kind sympathized with rebels but he understood, he didn't say anything back just nodded.

The day before he had seen the bodies off only two of his squad were going home intact, the rest were going home empty as there wasn't enough to ship home. But he felt alone, a new squad had filled his barracks but they weren't his. Going to the armory he suited up his armor fixed and shiny. It was almost like he had never worn it before in his life he couldn't recognize it after the battle. He walked the streets lonely in his armor, a single man on a solitary patrol he'd look suspicious to anybody who didn't know him but for those troopers who knew his call sign they gave him a wide berth because a grieving man is a dangerous man.

Belona Operations Report #003
Authorization Code: 59503834
Central Command Communications Relay #460287
Unit #47-729, Callsign Foursev

Fighting has not yet entered full swing. Occasionally, a rebel ship will be shot down, or a skirmish will occur, but lines are yet to be drawn. Rebels appear to be biding their time, keeping their exposure at a minimum. Evaluation of Rebel forces is inconclusive. Ground troopers observed up to this point are armed lightly, with little to no protection. Tactical simulations read a 79% probability of guerrilla warfare being implemented in the future, along with a 43% chance of Specforce involvement. Rebels appear to have some form of outside help, but without further observations, this is inconclusive. Current analysis of situation on Belona: Tense Stalemate. Search for Rebel Headquarters has yielded no results yet, but as soon as coordinates are acquired, will relay to Central Command.

Unit #47-729 out.

Foursev lowered his wristpad, glancing around before transmitting the report. He stretched his neck, and powered down his wristpad resuming his overwatch. He was standing on a high rooftop, on a concealed vantage point that let him observe a rather wide area of the city while keeping him relatively well hidden from sight. FourSev raised a pair of multi-binoculars to his head, looking through them as he scanned the city for any rebel activity. It had been a while since he'd engaged any rebels, and the fact that they were practically nowhere to be found bugged him. It was this nagging feeling that prompted him to set up watch. Who knows, maybe he'd get lucky.

(Any rebels feel like having an encounter with FourSev?)

She let the dark trooper go not wanting to confront him after he shot her trooper a look that froze him in place. She motioned for her men to take a step back from the dark trooper it was a threatening look but she imagined he just wanted to get his point across. She also imagined confronting him would result in a big mess which couldn't be afforded at time like this. However she stood closer to him to give him a little warning of her own "next time you do something I don't you'll end up in trash compactor in pieces now get out of my sight and do your job". She really disliked people hob couldn't put aside there differences for the greater good of The Empire and work together.

2 day after the battle

Zorra was busy running around the command centre juggling several conversations at once. It had been very busy ever since the battle with the rebels had ended having to organise everything with the increase in troop numbers was a real headache. Firstly she had to organise storage and bunks for the new arrivals move several ships to make room for all the warships, sending out search and rescue teams, the rebuilding of several areas and helping people relocate. The one thing she had been putting off was sending letters out to next of kin. She really hated that part off the job she kept looking back on her actions thinking about what she could have done differently in the end there was nothing she could do the and the galaxy keeps on spinning no matter who dies. She even let a few tears out will looking at the list off the missing and the dead of cause some won't be found due to being blown to bits.

Looking at the clock she realised that it was time to go and get ready for her meeting with the governor. She had put it off as long as she could seeing it as a waste of her time and skills as she was needed back at HQ. Though she daren't put it off anymore as it was an important part of being a solider kissing the higher ups butts. Making her way back home she looked around wreckage still littering places however the main streets had been cleared. Making her way into her apartment building she swiped her key card and entered into the lightly furnished apartment. Moving over to the window she looked out seeing the vast open expanse of wilderness. She loved living on the out skirts of the city it was so peaceful quiet. Though she was a bit annoyed looking around at the blaster marks which had poked holes into her wall. She was unaware that there was this much damage as she hadn't been home since the attack not wanting to leave her post in a time of crisis. She would have to speak to her landlord and get it fixed however that would have to be a task for later she quickly undressed had a quick wash before cramming herself into dress uniform which was always immaculate.

After spending a few moments in her home getting herself looking presentable she walked out of her flat walking down the street. She had been told that she should have an escort with her at all times but she found the idea unnecessary as she the city was so full of imperials that you couldn't walk a few steps without having to salute. "An imperial squad on every corner" she thought to herself finding the idea rather pleasing. In fact this whole change of events was invigorating and she once again had fire in her eyes seeing this as her big chance. All she had to do was find the remaining rebel forces and crush them before the competition.

It had taken her some time to get to the palace but she was finally their walking up the main stairs and into a large open space. It was highly excessive which was something she didn't care for however she did enjoy the aesthetics just not the size. Moving up to the first desk she could see Zorra asked "excuse me but I believe the governor is expecting me I'm Major Zorra". "Yes of course you are we have been expecting" the woman behind the desk said pointing to screen which had her face on it with all the information required. It was a handy bit of kit she thought to herself thinking about how she could use it and a hole lot other things. Especially now seeing as there were rebels on the planet and her equipment was substandard and now broken after the battle. She wondered to herself 'why would the governor want to see me'?

For two days after the Rebel attack, Xan, for the most part, did nothing of value. Quite understandably, the attack delayed his meeting with the governor, as she now had quite a bit more to deal with than when she initially requested his presence. His docking fees were being paid for him for as long as he was on there on official Imperial business, however, so he was not going to complain. Instead, he simply used his freetime to figure out what Greymass had to offer...which was not much, admitedly. There were a few cantinas which he visited to get a feel for the locals, but Belona was by and large a mining planet and therefore was not all that interesting, at least on the surface.

As far as setllements went, Greymass was not the least tolerable place Xan had ever been. His heated vest allowed him to tolerate the cold, and given the sheer number of Imperial soldiers patrolling the streets, the city's criminals had to stay out of public view. Of course, the stormtroopers were the party that was more likely to give him trouble than the criminals, given that he was a non-human openly carrying a blaster at his side in the street. The first time he left his ship's docking bay, he was stopped repeatedly by Imperial soldiers. Regardless, it did not seem to bother Xan all too greatly. In fact, he always seemed to have a satisfied grin on his face whenever he was able to wave the governor's seal in their faces. Being that Tiss'shar were not exactly common on Belona, it was not long before the soldiers in the area stopped harassing him.

On the second day, Xan ended up in one of the cantinas. He had a few drinks and chatted with a few locals, but since it was clear that it was going to be a while before the governor could get to him, he decided that he could do something else in the meantime. As with most cantinas, there was a bounty board from which he could find a job for himself. It did not seem that there were too many at the moment, but a few of the ones he saw were certainly interesting.

"Hmm, this one pays nothing....I wouldn't mind taking out this guy...and this one...well, that's certainly a decent reward." Xan mumbled as he reached the bounty for the Rodian, Jakolir Enwoori. "One hundred thousand credits to take him alive? More for accomplices? And that is an impressive list of crimes. I think he is someone I'd like to know a bit more about." He said to himself, saving the details of the bounty to his datapad. From the information given on the bounty, the Ice Caps cantina, which was not far away, would be a good place to begin. Obviously, if he was aware that he was being hunted, he would not stay in any of the places listed, but the patrons of the cantina might not be so willing to keep his secrets, especially given the right motivation.

Loretta stood in a secret room above the main facility. From this room she had control of cameras all over the labs, other than the visible ones. Just so she could see what was going on in the shadows. It also, more beneficially, was tapped into the cameras in the city. So she could watch as people went about their lives. There was something she didn't trust about their new friend in orbit, especially as he deployed his own troops and was managing to keep them together and too themselves. Record, impeccable. Though he was an unknown variable, something the Governor had decided to do and as such he was a threat or at least a possible liability. Especially as he was the moron ensuring that her shipments came through unhindered. So far he had managed to not screw anything up however that could easily change with the larger shipment coming through, an entire Gozanti cruiser full off goods for her not her standard shuttle. That and it being unmarked was bound to raise eyebrows even with it's Imperial Codes. That gave FourSev a job however, a show off power to keep others in line more or less.

She pressed the button on her commlink. "FourSev. I need you to get a shuttle up to the Strike cruiser in orbit and meet with the Captain. Stay there until further ordered. I need you to ensure deliveries keep coming through on schedule and unhindered. Use my name and give him my authorization code. If he has any problems with that bounce a transmission to me via several comm relays and I'll speak to him myself. I also need you to do some snooping for me and find anything... odd and report back to me. That is all." With that she closed the channel before bringing up stormtrooper records on screen.

Up to the top of the list, Staff Sergeant Cad Orcos. Recently lost his whole squad, in grief. New squad were all green however she only really needed him. He put in the frequency for Storm Trooper command. "This is Captain Loretta Riada. Send Staff Sergeant Cad Orcos, Identification TK-422 Aurek Eta to my facility. Without his squad."

Cad and Loretta
Cad got the message from on high. “TK-422, you are to report to Command Post Theta alone, how copy?” “Roger command I copy I’m enroute now.” Cad dismissed the new squad and left. He didn’t like them he never had they didn’t quite feel the same, When he arrived at the command post he was stopped and questioned “Designation and purpose for being here?” Asked one of the troopers at the guard post. “TK-422, and command told me to arrive here alone.” The two troopers on duty chuckled “We got you TK-422 head on through.” They told him where he was going and they let him through. Stepping onto the Turbolift he took it to the floor the two troopers told him to head to. He was greeted by two stormtroopers in black armor, but their movements seemed off, not like a normal humans. “Can you take me to where i need to go?” He asked.

The droids, not that they could easily be seen as droids due to their armour turned without so much as a word, however the meaning was implied. They lead him through into the main command centre, the few organics working on their consoles looked up. The droids who weren’t wearing armour, B1 battle droids and various protocol droids just continued their duties unhindered by the new arrival. Obviously expecting him. The lead troopers lead him through, instead of taking the turn the bounty hunter had been down towards the lab and past the screaming patients they took another turn. Pausing at a door, seemingly doing nothing however they were wirelessly interfacing with the droid brain in charge of security over the base.

Followed by a biometric scan of Cad before the door opened, within a lavishly decorated office. When Cad entered, the droids moved back beside the door, and the door slammed shut.

Cad looked behind him at the door, he felt like a prisoner being trapped inside a cell. But he stepped forward and took a seat at one of the chairs in front of the desk. He couldn’t help but think he was in trouble, this office did after all remind him of the headmasters in the academy in Cardia. Nobody seemed to be inside the office as of yet so he took off his helmet and set it on the desk and reclined a bit in the chair.

A panel in the wall raised and Loretta walked out, her officers cap missing and her hair hanging down. An obvious violation of regulations, however she simply sauntered over and set herself in the chair in front of the desk. “I don’t mind you having your helmet off, however I would appreciate not placing it on my desk.” She stroked her hand along it, before raising her hand up again and rubbing her fingers together. “It’s the finest wood from a Woshyr tree on Kashyyk.” She lifted up her datapad. “I’d rather use your name rather than your designation, if that’s all the same to you. Cad.”

She slid it across the desk. “That’s your record, an impressive one too at that. Complete and utter dedication to the New Order, as were your squad mates. I am sorry to hear for your loss by the way. I have lost my fair share of comrades, which is why I am here.” She waved around the room. “I need you to perform some work for the eye-ess-bee.” She shrugged, if you’re willing off course.”

Cad watched this woman exit from a panel in the wall, when she told him to remove his helmet from his desk he removed it and put it on his lap. “I don’t mind Ma’am call me whatever you want.” He took his record off of her desk and read through it, there were a few things that he had forgotten about on the record, mainly the fact that storm trooper command kept track of his kill counter on Kashyyk and some shadow operations in Muunilinst with his airborne group. “What kind of work do you have in mind ma’am?” He asked.

She shrugged. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the ISBs popularity, I worked in command before I joined ISB. You won’t be doing anything untoward, I need some information gathered upon an Imperial Officer who has had… strange goings on. I simply need you to blend in, perhaps curry favour and relay any information to me.” She looked at her own datapad. “I’ll likely have other duties for someone of your expertise to fulfill and once we’ve gotten rid off the rebels on this world I’ll see to it that you get a better post elsewhere.”

Now he was paying attention he stared at her now and ran his hand through his hair a sign that he was really thinking. “Alright I’ll do it. If you have reason to believe he’s a threat to the empire, then it’s my duty to do as you will.” He said and a slight smile came to his face and stood up and offered her his hand.

FourSev had just about finished getting comfortable in his own little home-brew recon post (Well, as comfortable as someone who's 80% machine can get on a ruined balcony with no furniture). He had found a position that put minimal strain on his bionic joints, and as he calibrated his shoulder mounted blaster cannon, a transmission came in. Begrudgingly, FourSev answered his communicator, not at all surprised to hear Loretta's voice come in, with yet another errand for him. These were assignments for a scout trooper, or a messenger droid, not a several million credit super-soldier.

Sighing to himself, he deactivated his blaster cannon, the weapon lowering and the barrel collapsing into the hard-point on his left shoulder so it wouldn't burden him as much. From a loop on his belt, he attached a line of mono-wire, and mantled the balcony, falling a couple of stories before grabbing the edge of the building. He repeated this fall/stop/fall process until he reached the ground, and he retracted the wire. With that, he was on his way.

After a few hours of sustained jogging, he reached the spaceport, finding the shuttle and quickly taking command of it. Sitting down in the cockpit, he did some pre-flight checks before plugging himself into the shuttle's interface and taking it off. He flew from the spaceport using standard procedures and military protocols, and once he was in space, he entered an approach trajectory to the strike cruiser, awaiting for them to hail him.

Imperial Storm 1 and her entourage had stopped at a small cantina over a report of a domestic issue. While Sergeant Lant and his troopers were trying to keep a mad drunk from doing something foolish while Carl had taken the chance to go relieve himself in the cantina's loo, this left Trump to spend time in the gunner's seat, observing passers-by from within the mechanical beast. His attention was drawn to three Scout Troopers. While not a normally odd sight since the streets were filled with Imperial troops, they had parked on the other side of the street, with one of them heading straight in his direction. At this moment comlink beeped, he quickly answered it in a very mono-tone voice, "Sergeant Major Caddok speaking." The one Scout Trooper heading his way was speaking into his comlink as a voice came through his comlink, "Sergeant Major, Scout Trooper Vale speaking, we have a delivery for you." Trump was a little confused, "Very well... Leave it with a requisitional officer until I can retrieve it when our shift ends." The voice spoke back, "Negative, sir. It's from Captain Dennison." Trump gave a hesitant nod, though the Scout Trooper probably couldn't see him, "I see." He got out of his seat and opened the hatch to the cockpit before lifting his upper body out of the AT-ST's protective casing.

He looked down upon the Scout Trooper as the man also looked back up to him. Trump spoke down to him, "Toss it up." The man seemed hesitant, "Are you sure, sir?" Trump gave a nod, and with that the Scout Trooper shrugged before giving a grenade-like toss up to Trump. The throw was spot on, Trump catching the device before it crashed against his face, though, admittedly, he fumbled it a tiny bit before he could get a full grasp on it. He inspected the device to see it was a holocommunicator, he quickly came to the conclusion the Captain wanted to speak with him. Before he could thank the Scout Trooper for the delivery, the man had already started to make his way back to his speeder-bike. Trump simply nodded at them and watched them drive off before entering back into the safety of the AT-ST's cockpit.

Trump activated the device before placing it just in front of the 360 Holo-viewer so he can glance at whoever comes on as he continues his vigilance, "Sergeant Major Caddok reporting."

Xan was greeted with a mix of unpleasant odors when he stepped into the Ice Caps cantina, not that it was any different from most of the...lower class cantinas he visited. As per usual, he garnered a few looks from some of the patrons, but most were too absorbed with their drinks and conversations to give him more than a passing glance.

It took only a quick glance around the place for Xan to determine his target wasn't present, not that he expected him to be. That would be far too easy. He looked around for any servers he might talk to, especially female Rodians, but seeing as all of them were droids, the next best option was the bartender himself. He was making drinks as Xan approached the bar, and looked up for only a moment before waving Xan away. "Just take a seat, one of the droids'll get to ya."

"Ah, but I have this friend, a Rodian named Jakolir, who tells me you'll make the best glass of brandy only for those who come right to you. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?" Xan asked as he leaned up against the bar.

Upon hearing Jakolir's name, the bartender knew immediately who Xan was and what he wanted. Considering that it was a government-sanctioned bounty which he had to post on his board as well, there were few in the establishment who did not know that Jakolir was wanted. "Look, I don't know nothin'. And if I did, I don't talk about customers." He answered dismissively.

Xan gave a chuckle. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. I just want a drink." He said, sliding onto the table a credit chip of notably higher value than the cost of a drink. "Don't worry, I tip well."

The bartender eyed the chip for a few moments before quickly sliding into his pocket and starting on the drink. "Look, I don't know too much about that slimy lizard. I just know all that stuff in the bouty ain't all right, but it ain't all wrong either. He's scum, that's for sure, but I know that ship's not his. If you're after him, I don't know where he is. All I know is that a few days ago, he left and hasn't been back since. From what I heard, this Rodian lady, a lover by the sound of it, took him away. Now here, take your drink."

Xan glanced down the glass of brandy as the bartender walked away. He probably had more he could tell, but the bartender did not seem to be in the mood for an extended chat. Instead, he took the drink and began to casually walk around the cantina, observing its patrons and searching for someone from which he might gather a bit more in the way of information.

Collab between Cale Tucker & myself

A face appeared from the holo recorder, "Sorry, that is not the right answer. We don't treat people with ... 'Sergeant Major Caddok reporting.' Reminder.... only make sure those you trust will hear the message on the holodisk. You have one more attempt at viewing this message." And with that, the face dissipated, the holodisk shutting off, waiting for the correct word to be said.

Trump glanced at the device before picking it up again. He turned the device over in his hands in closer examination. He glanced out the viewport at the cantina again, the thought of his comrades passing through his mind. They seemed to be taking their time, which would normally result in him asking for a report. However, this time, he would have to let it pass for the time being. He looked back at the device in his hands before he spoke with a small nod, "Decency."

The face showed up again but this time it seemed like it had personality. "Password accepted, greetings Trump. This is Captain Den, I have an important mission for you. For some reason there are ships that have been given some sort of special clearance codes that relay to me as ships that are allowed to pass without being stopped or checked. These ships, Trump, I want you to find out where the cargo is going. I want to know who's so high as to go against the very orders I was given. Some data I looked up said they were going into a mine with very few Troopers guarding it, but that's the end of the trail. Good luck, Trump. Den out." And the hologram was completed, the face dissipated. However the disk became warm and a large whirring sound started to emit from it. It lit up and then it was done. The disk must have had a chip inside to melt down the disks memory after the message had played.

After listening to the message, Trump pondered the orders given. He was going to need to figure out where this cave was and how he was to get there. He was drawn back to the device as it grew warm and started to making a whirling sound. He was about to throw the device out the cockpit, expecting it to explode when it stopped whirling and simply lit up. It must have simply melted the memory of the device.

He put it down beside his chair before turning his thoughts back to the issue of this cave. Trump was going to have to find it first, before he can do any kind of investigating. His attention was drawn to the back of the cockpit, hearing the sounds of someone climbing up towards the hatch on top. Trump pulled out his blaster and aimed it at the hatch as it opened. Carl jumped down into the cockpit, to see a blaster aimed his way, "Woah! Hey, friendly here!" Carl lifted his hands in a mock surrender, while Trump lowered his blaster as he got out of the gunner's seat, "Identify yourself before you jump into anything Corporal, we are not on the training grounds anymore. Live threats are here on this planet and I would expect you to be more cautious." Trump took his pilot's seat while Carl's shoulders went up and down with a heavy sigh before taking his seat.

Trump continued to speak, "What took you all so long in there? There better be a good reason." Carl nervously shifted in his seat, "I, uh... saw things in that washroom that I never really expected to see and Lant and his boys decided to speak with the rest people in there and continue to ask for any info about the rebs." Trump seemed generally pleased with the answer before using the AT-ST's commlink to speak with Sergeant Lant, "Sergeant, what took you so long?" Carl gave Trump a sharp look before taking up the controls, Lant responded, "After dealing with the dispute, which was simply a marital one, I decided we should speak with the rest of the cantina for more info. I have some possible leads that might be of use." Trump nodded, "Good, I want a full report when we get back to base. However, as you all were in there, I also spoke with a few people passing by and one of them mentioned some odd activity in an area out by a mine. They didn't give me directions unfortunately but it's possible it's rebel activity." Lant responded, "Shouldn't we report that sir? Our shift has almost ended." Trump shook his head, "Negative, our job is to explore possible leads and only report them when, and if, they seem to be relevant to HQ. If we don't do this now, the trail may grow cold. HQ doesn't want us sending in every detail as their already bogged down the logistics and reconstruction." "Roger that, sir. Shall I re-enter the cantina for directions?" "Yes, Sergeant."

Carl glanced at Trump, "You spoke with citizens? Did any of them have a heart attack at the sound of your voice?" Trump seemed to ignored the comment and made one of his own, "I can smell the alcohol on your uniform Corporal, the filters in my helmet don't stop that smell from getting through. I'm going to presume you were sprayed by an angry citizen's drink, because as the good soldier you are, you know drinking on duty is not acceptable, especially getting it on your uniform." With that, Carl shut up and sat more attentively. Within a few minutes, Lant came back out and the group was on their way. Trump had also communicated with his Scout Troopers, informing them of their possible needed assistance in finding possible rebel activity.