Rapture (Open)

[wrathchild]

Five consecutive pods descended from the heavens at terminal speed. Streaming across the landscape before crashing at high velocity into the Khoonda plains and sending slight shock waves through the ocean's of grass with each consecutive THUD. The Orbital Drop into Dantooine's atmosphere had seen success, but the landing came prematurely, as it always had.

The first pods hatch hissed as it depressurized, opening like an ethereal gateway into the planet's lush landscape. A fully suited figure struggled out of the seat, falling into the dirt and fighting against the mild concussion to find his footing. With a grunt he lifted himself. Glancing left and right before turning back toward the pod and sluggishly grabbing for the panel at his left. He pulled out a rifle and a com-link. Respectively attaching it to his uniform before taking both hands and removing the breathing helmet.

A long breath exuded as he took in fresh oxygen once more. There was nothing like it, not only was it essential for human survival, but it was more than that, this was his home. This wasn't like the smog-ridden oxygen on Coruscant, diluted and thinned with the monoxides of technology and industrialization. This was pure, unhindered air that stretched on for miles. Miles of natural plantation, grown at the hands of the Dantooine residents, who were popular for their professionalism in agriculture. As the helmet hit the floor, Malesyn ran a heavily gloved hand through his short-cropped hair. Mist flaked off as it ran over his cranium. Cold Perspiration floating into the air as he knelt down and fumbled over the channels for a connection to the rest of his men.

"Status Report." He called out on a secluded frequency. His glowering white eyes shifted through the night to survey and analyze their current location. His keen sense of sight picked up no heat signatures in the distance other than the smoldering thrusters that clicked as the metal cooled down against Dantooine's temperature.

"Conner here," came a muffled reply through the headset, "All personnel are alive and accounted for."

Malesyn nodded with relief. Then moved his left wrist up to his face to key up his Nav tool. The small wrist-like piece of equipment was a handy addition to the current attire. Complementing the flak vest wrought with ammunition, grenades, and other various portions of tactical equipment he carried, it looked as if he was ready for any situation, should it meet him front and center. He brought up a miniature grid on their current location, pin-pointing their exact position.

"We're in the middle of the Kylah Plains..." he tapped on his Nav tool a little more. "Looks like we're spread out pretty thin, I'm placing a rendezvous marker at a location that's appropriate for all of us to meet up. I'll reiterate the brief when we are together and then make preparations for a road march to our priority destination. Stay sharp until then."

Malesyn's eyes kept themselves straight-forward as he lowered the com-link. His eyes tracing the horizon for any patrols that might've noticed their orbital drop into the atmosphere. His silence lasted for minutes as he stood still, surveying his area like a hawk. It wasn't until he was satisfied that he began to down-grade his gear. Tossing the heavy space uniform into the drop pod, he dressed himself in the familiar Dantooine Attire. He dismantled his Outland rifle and stuffed it in his assault pack with the assortment of other military essentials. He pulled back the top portion of his Adjucator Pistol, chambering a round in the barrel before he placed it underneath his poncho and shoved it in his waist. Of all the things he had, it didn't seem like he had much when he finally threw the assault pack over his back.

Their reason for taking such a large risk wasn't because the Republic had a priority mission for them. It wasn't because intel had depicted a key location for them to take out. It wasn't because their were POW's that needed rescuing. As far as Malesyn was concern, everyone needed rescuing... but for now, he was only focused on one individual. His Father. He was somewhat of a famous figure in Dantooine, and that scared him. If he was important to the residents, then he was important to the Sith. And he feared the worst for him.

This mission was personal. Malesyn was here to get his father out, and that was all there was to it...

Finally ready, he tossed in a thermal detonator and closed the hatch to his drop pod. He made his run toward the rendezvous point, disappearing into the waves of grass before an explosion ignited, lighting up the ocean's of plant life before dying back into the night's descent. Malesyn turned back to watch the fires die down to a null before he threw the hood over his head, the only thing visible underneath the contour shadows was the unnaturally white eyes. They soon disappeared into the shadows along with Malesyn.

His mission had begun.

[wrathchild]

He marched on for hours. The weight of his equipment and attire tasking him more so than the temperature. Dantooine's nights were cool. He remembered them as if he never left. Back then, he was just a boy... running the fields for sport and leisure. The worries of survival and seclusion unheard of back in days where peace and tranquility were common practices. Now though, those values were captured. Embraced under the shadow of trickery. Sure they may have remained for the locals who had accepted their occupation... To them, the Empire promised them many things. But to those who bore some symbol of benevolence, of rebellion to their cause... it was to those that suffering and death were fates promised by the Empire.

The people of Dantooine were not so easy to submit however. Legal or not, the Empire's presence was bound to strike nerves in those who held a special place for democracy in their hearts. Malesyn knew the people here; compassionate farmers and merchants of the land. They were not without their strengths, they were not without their patriotism. And sometimes, having faith was all that was necessary to become a formidable force.

Malesyn slowed his pace to a halt before kneeling down to the ground. Secluding himself within the threads of grass as he brought up his Nav Tool. 4 markers neared his location. It wasn't long before his fire team was together again. The first to show a friendly face had been Conner, Malesyn's Mechanic.

"Tangos are crawling this time of night, boss." He said through exasperated breaths as he let his knees buckle down into a kneeling position next to the Corporal. "I traced three formations from my LZ to here. Seems they noticed the little show we left behind."

"They'll find nothing but scrap, I'm sure." Malesyn noted. "They'll pass em' off as escape pods of course, sweep the plains about 4 clicks out before giving up."

"A good thing we moved when we did." Ezparza said as he approached the two. "Got Grizz here with me."

"Any word on, Aracles?" Malesyn asked as he re-checked his Nav.
"Right here, top." Aracles approached rather leisurely before forming an effective perimeter. "What's our next move?"

Malesyn nodded. "Right, we're about 4 or 5 kilometers away from my father's estate. We keep low and move slowly through the plains. Keep your eyes peeled for enemy patrols and local militia forces. I heard a rumor that there are locals rebelling against strategic locations placed by Imperials throughout the region. Which means we confirm our targets before engaging, understood?"

"Orders in case they classify us as hostile?" Ezparza asked.

"We are not here to give the people of Dantooine any ammunition against the Republic other than what the Empire has already given them. We all stand down if we're spotted by the local militia. They may not be military trained, but they are stubborn. And will not hesitate to blast us if we give them any reason to. We all clear?"

"Crystal, Corporal." Conner nodded.

Malesyn eyed his men before continued, "We stay together. Any of us falls into trouble we form a perimeter and shuttle ourselves." There was a thread of silence before Malesyn rose up on his haunches. "Diamond wedge formation, I'm point. Everyone else takes their positions. We head North East on foot. Once we reach my father's estate we span out and recon the area. See if we can find out what we're up against."

"Let's hope we make it there first." Grizz muttered as Malesyn removed himself from the circle. Ezparza shot him a glance.

"You actually worried about his one? Didn't think a big guy like you was the uneasy type."

"Uneasy? No, just don't want to end up gettin' my hind quarters licked by a group of locals. I just hope the boss is right when he says they'll cooperate if we do."

[Meira]

Mo had made a mistake. A stupid mistake. A child's mistake. And now she was paying for it.

There was a reason she was head scout. It wasn't because she had worked for the Sampsons, and it wasn't because she'd been like a sister to Dutch and Al. Mo was head scout because there were no others among the DLA that could track as well as she could. None could hide half as well either. She was their ghost, seeing and hearing, yet unseen... unheard. And she almost threw it all away.

One would think that, living as they did, the members of the DLA could never forget how dire their situation was. But one would be wrong. Even in the hell that was their lives since the Sith came down of them with fire and blood, the members of the DLA found ways to forget. The most common was with drink.

Mo had never been much of a drinker. She had witnessed how it could destroy a man, even one so strong as Dutch. It was hard to enjoy something she knew could bring so much pain. But when Brandon Edams offered her a drink, those green eyes dancing, Mo hadn't refused.

Nor did she refuse the second, or the third. Brandon had been an informant in Flint. He'd helped the DLA all he could, passing on gossip and overheard conversations. He'd kept his place well, handling the stress of being in between with an impressive calm. That was, until the Sith sacked his store. Brandon had been lucky to escape with his life. Now, like so many others, Homestead was all he had. Well, that and a dazzling smile.

The more Mo drank, the more she liked his smile, and his eyes, and his laugh. They had found themselves on a couch in a common room, but it was late and they were the only two souls in sight. Mo, as young drunk women are wont to do, leaned in to kiss this handsome stranger. But Brandon pulled away. His apologies seemed sincere, but the man was tactless then. He began to ask about another woman, a scout Mo had been training. A human. Mo bit her lip and did her best not to disgrace herself as she left him sitting alone on the couch.

Just like that, all the pain came back. It was Dutch all over again. She retreated to her room, but stopped when the door opened to reveal Si'bul sprawled across her bed. She could not let the young Zabrak see her now, not like this. She fled then to the lower levels, her feet moving as her mind reeled and lost focus. She found herself in the garage amongst the speeders and other mobile weapons of the DLA. Without thought, she mounted one of the speeder bikes and sped from the confines of the DLA's safe haven.

By the time the sorrows faded from her mind and her conscious control returned to her, the sky was turning gray in the predawn light and she was home. Not Homestead, but the only place Mo had ever truly considered home... or at least what was left of it.

The Sampson estate had once been a beautiful place. Trees and gardens decorated the open spaces between the buildings. And the fields stretched as far as the eye could see. Now, the ground was overgrown and uneven. Craters, full of grass and weeds marked the impact points of the bombs that had torn her home and her life apart. Some of the buildings were gone entirely; the barn and one of the small garages could not be seen. The big house, the large garage, and one of the long houses where the farm hands lived still stood, but with broken roofs and some missing walls. The ruins were being overrun by creeping vines and other plant life, as if Dantooine were trying to cover a scar.

She should never have come here. She knew. She'd barely arrived when she was suddenly surrounded by lights and the shouting voices of soldiers calling out for her to freeze. Shocked back into present, Mo jumped onto her speeder bike and escaped the approaching soldiers as they opened fire on her retreating form.

Her mind raced as her whole body was shocked with adrenalin. Fear overcame her as she fled, the sounds of their vehicles closing behind her. Through it all, one thing rang clear in her mind; the only thing that mattered. Never lead them to Homestead.

She should never have gone there. It was a stupid mistake. A child's mistake. And now she was paying for it. In her emotional stupidity, Mo had taken a slower bike then a more sober and thinking version of herself might have selected. And the soldiers on her six weren't a mere patrol, but scouts themselves. She was barely able to keep ahead of them. That whole day, she fled. Whenever she though she'd lost them, they appear over a hill and she would have to take off again.

By nightfall, she'd again thought she'd given them the slip. But it was too late to travel now. So Mo made camp as best as she could and had settled in for a fitful sleep. When she woke, prepared to make her way back to Homestead, she was dumbfounded to see the scouts speeding toward her.

And so this went on for a second day. On the third, Mo saw no sign of the scouts, but had become so paranoid that she continued toward her nonexistent destination just to be sure. She was farther now from Homestead than she could ever remember being when not on an actual mission, and it made her terribly uneasy.

She tried contacting Glitch, but there seemed to be something wrong with the comm on her bike. Figuring she was simply too far in the plains to catch a good signal, Mo turned herself toward some settlements she'd seen that morning. It late by the time to came upon what appeared to be some kind of estate, though it seemed abandoned. Mo settled herself in a grove of trees at the edge of the estate and set about trying to pick up a signal. It looked again, like she'd be spending the night under the stars.

The sun set, the stars came out, and still Mo had nothing but static on her comm. As the night marched on, she settled down, concealed in the grass and trees, not wanting to fall asleep.

[wrathchild]

The first hour of their movement had been slow and time consuming. In the time it took them to cover the first few kilometers, they had stopped on multiple occassions in order to blanket themselves in the tall grass to avoid the ever looming line of sight of stray patrols. Malesyn had grown perturbed about it. Dantooine's local society had him thinking that primary military occupation would take place in the more populated regions of the surface. The fact that they had encountered an abundance of patrols this far out in the field had him thinking they weren't just looking for them.
Thankfully, most of them drew West... back toward their initial drop zone. Allowing them to slip further inland toward their destination rather than risking an entire regiment once they had arrived. Malesyn had to hand it to the local militia. If they were still around, it must've been a proud-filled feat to maintain distance from the prying eyes of the Empire's military and still manage to antagonize them at the risk of being found out.
Training and experience had been on his side... but more so than both was trial and error. The same was said for his men. It was often thought by many that the fundimentals of learning were based on the aspects of experience. But Malesyn knew better than to accept that fallible logic. Truth was, people learned from consequence. You could fill an equation up with variables and know them, but when it came to solving it, all that mattered was the result. The end of the formula.
The consequence.
Malesyn also surveyed the land while they crept through the acres. The long smooth advances of hill and valley were less flowing than they had been when he was a child. It alarmed him, seeing as how his father's estate was no more than a few kilometers away and the eneven territory had been the after math of the Empire's initial occupation. He pushed the though aside as best he could. What mattered right now was getting there, and getting there with the rest of his team.
The night drug on slowly. But they never rested other than to pull security when Malesyn spotted abnormalities within his line of sight. They'd all take the time to drink up on fluids and nibble on some portions from their food rations before getting up off their bellies to cover more ground. Persperation tickled their brows and chins. But they ignored it, letting it fall off their bodies and find their place on the ground. The leaders, their superiors had taught them the importance of the body and mind... and why it worked the way it did. It chronologued the importance of hydration and food consumption, of physical fitness and mentality. The discipline behind it all had it's merits. It all fell back to the concept of survival. Each rule and law dignified by the instinct that was often lost to those who held a more prestigious and civilrous life away from danger.
The estate was within their view now. Malesyn lowered his men onto the floor with a silent hand gesture and they lined up just behind a crevice. About a couple thousand meters out was his fathers estate. While mostly intact, he could notice the large structural damage it had sustained. It was like looking at an ancient ruin. The plant life had already began it's climb around the architecture, binding the man-made household to the surface. Various sections of the estate were burdened with heavy impact scars, and traces of carbon could be dimly seen against the feint light cast off by the dark sky.
It was enough to make Malesyn's heart sink into his gut.
"You alright?" Conner asked as he glanced at Malesyn.
He didn't bother to acknowledge him. He hefted his rifle into his chest and rose to his haunches.
"Let's go."
The last few meters to the finish line saw them picking up the pace. With the patrols directing West they had a short window which was closing fast. And Malesyn wanted to utilize whatever time they had left to search for clues on what happened to his home, and more importantly, his father.
Malesyn's sprint slowed to a halt when he slid up against the wall next to the entrance. The rest of his men gathered around the front door.
Grizz, the largest soldier out of the bunch, sent his foot through the door. It smashed open and they filed in, branching out of the entrance funnel and spreading out along the sides of the first room.
"Clear!" the word echoed throughout the estate's interior as each man called it out.
"Fan out, watch your sectors of fire." Malesyn said as he peered into the next room...

[Meira]

The night air had set a chill in Mo's skin as she waited out what was sure to be a long night. Not being able to stand it any longer, she searched the small containers of her speeder bike and was relieved to find a blanket. Quickly, she shook it out and then wrapped it around her shoulders.

The last two nights she'd spent under the stars had been warmer, and she'd managed to find more suitable shelter. Granted, there was an abandoned estate not far from where she hid, but her paranoia had forbid Mo from going any closer to the place. The Sampson estate, after all, had also been abandoned. She knew, because she'd helped get the people out. But that hadn't stopped a Sith patrol from stopping there to rest. Or maybe they'd been there on purpose. Maybe it had been a trap.

Mo shook her head. If that had been a trap, they must have been waiting a long time. No one in the DLA had gone back to the Sampson estate since the invasion. It never had to be forbidden; there was no need for that. No one wanted to go back there... not with the Sith still in occupation. They would go back, one day, but not until Dantooine was free again.

As time ticked by, Mo's eyes kept turning toward the estate. It was a looming shadow in the darkness of the night. Surely there would be a small room in there... a place where she could get out of the night air. She could hunker down in a corner. The speeder bike would be safe where it was. The idea was so tantalizing, Mo was standing before she thought the better of it.

The sound of something crashing changed that though. Mo was immediately crouched behind the speeder bike the moment the sound reached her ears. Blue eyes widened and she held her breath, listening. The silence that followed caused Mo to doubt she'd even heard the sound at all. Was she losing it? She'd slept so poorly these past two nights, had very little to eat and drink... Mo lowered her head, rubbing her face with both of her hands. She was just hearing things.

"Clear!"

Mo's head popped up again. She was hearing things... but, real things. Her eyes strained in the darkness to see toward the estate. She used her peripheral vision, knowing that trying to focus on any one thing would be useless at night. But she could see no movement.

How did they find her? She'd had no sign of them all day! How had she not heard their approach? Had she fallen asleep? She didn't think so, but in her panicked state, Mo was having trouble getting her mind to process rationally.

Lowering herself to the ground once again, Mo focused on her breathing until she felt her heart rate slow. She could handle this. She'd been in tighter spots before. She could handle this. When her body felt closer to calm, she rethought her situation. There was no way that whoever was inside the home could have arrived on any sort of transport. The DLA was well aware of the types of vehicles the Sith were in possession of. They'd stolen a nice variety of them. There was simply no way they had anything to transport them that she would not have been able to hear coming. That meant they were on foot.

She had the advantage there. What's more, they were searching the home. Whoever they were, if they were looking for her, they didn't know where she was. Another advantage. For the time being, she had speed and stealth on her side. These were tools she was well familiar with. Firepower, on the other hand...

Mo looked down at the lone blaster pistol that she now held in her hand. She'd found it on the bike her first night out and had kept it close ever since. She knew she wouldn't be much good with it; she never was with blasters, but it was at least a comfort to have something. How she longed to have Aditi in her hands. Most didn't really understand why Mo preferred the bow to blasters, but the fact of the matter was that she needed to feel the weapon. She felt so detached from blasters. They were... inorganic, perhaps. With her bow, Mo could feel every aspect of handling it; the tension in the string as she drew it back, the warmth of the worn leather grip, every minor detail spoke to how the weapon aimed and where the arrow would strike once released. Other people might be able to find such a connection with a blaster, but Mo wasn't one of them.

But a blaster was all Mo had. She would have to make due with that. She hadn't heard any more sounds from the house, but that didn't exactly make her feel any better. Sooner or later, they would realize she wasn't in there. Once they did, she'd have to be ready to flee again if they began to search the grounds. Crawling around her bike, she positioned herself prone at the edge of the cover she'd been using. There she waited, vigilant of any signs of movement or sounds.

[wrathchild]

What little light gave way through the crumbling rooftops of the estate was mixed with played shadows as Malesyn's team slowly moved through the house section, after section. Their weapons were fixed upward in their firing positions, as their bodies lay crouched and low.

Malesyn's stride had been slower than the others. While his body moved according to muscle memory, his mind settled upon the history they found themselves in. The house was hardly in the shape it was when he left it. But the skeletal outline of what it once was, was enough to allow his mind to put together the rest of the pieces. He moved through the hall into the living quarters, a place where his father spent much of his time dealing with visitors who had come to barter for technology or pay for treatment. The visions lit up like a veil of film. And he watched it subconsciously while his eyes trained themselves down the sight aperture of his rifle.

"Sergeant?"

Malesyn blinked and lowered his weapon, realizing the item in his left hand, and acknowledging that he had in fact knelt down to pick it up. It was a toy he used to play with when he was a kid...

Conner had pulled him back into reality and he nodded once, "Don't worry about me." he pushed himself off of his knee and stood once more waiting for his team to regroup before he spoke.

"Doesn't seem like anyone is here, Malesyn. We cleared everything we could that wasn't already caved in."

"Didn't see any bodies on the way in... My guess is they took him in..."

Malesyn glanced over his shoulder as he took in the bits of intel. "... He wouldn't put up a fight if he knew he'd be risking others... If they did take him in then there's a good chance we'll have to push onward and find out his location... We'll take our break here... 15 minutes tops, then we push forward. Keep an eye out for any clues he may have left behind."

The men gave a nod before moving out. Malesyn watched them disappear before he rubbed his head tiresomely. He sat down on the old sofa. It was destroyed, but provided enough comfort for Malesyn to care less. It wasn't the physical comfort he was concerned with, it was the mental comfort of knowing his father was safe. And it was enough to instill restlessness even in a man like him.

"Where the hell they take you, Dad?" he said quietly underneath his breath.

[Meira]

At any other time, it might not have seemed so loud. But in the dark and still of the night, as Mo held her breath... waiting... the sound of the radio on her speeder bike sounded like a clap of thunder. The static blared to life suddenly, startling the Mirialan woman to her feet. She scrambled to the bike to shut it off as she heard Glitch's voice come over the comm.

"Green, are you out there? Respon-"

Mo's hand slammed into the switch and the comm went dead. Three days. Three days! And the fates picked NOW for the comm to work?

Mo's ears were ringing as she tried to calm her heart which had jumped so quickly in her panic. Crouched by the bike once again, she strained to hear any sign that she'd been discovered. She had to consciously control her breathing and remind herself that she still had the advantage of the speeder bike. She could get away. But she didn't want to move if she hadn't been heard.


((I know it's short, but Mo isn't gonna move in on your guys... she's too cautious for that.))

[wrathchild]

As Malesyn wandered into his father's office his eyes drew interest in the flashing icon on the desk. The flickering light illuminated off of a message console. One that was often used for his fathers findings. An expression of intrigue and confusion played off his rugged face as he approached the desk. His gloved hand reached out to push the play button...

Sounds of hasty movement reverberated before his father's voice filled the room.

"I've made a an astounding breakthrough in the field of biological research. The data I have regarding the sample stays with me. It doesn't belong to the Empire, nor does it belong to the Republic. I have more work to do, and I haven't run enough tests to confirm it's reliability or suitability with variant lifeforms..."

Another voice echoed over his fathers, deep and controlling. "We're not concerned about that Dr. Malesyn. Your findings however, are. If you cannot willingly tell us the details of your discovery then perhaps the lives of your patients will pay the toll for your secret."

Malesyn's eyes widened slightly as he listened. His father's voice filled the room again. "That won't be necessary... Please, I will go without a fuss. Continue my research... Elsewhere."

"You would work for us?"

"...Y-yes..."

Malesyn's eyebrows furrowed, more in concern than in disgust. Malesyn's father went willingly as he suspected. But this discovery concerned him more. If was important enough for the Empire to take such an interest in his research then his father was in deeper trouble than he had originally anticipated.

"We got a problem, Malesyn." Conner appeared through the door frame. "We're not alone."

Malesyn's eyes lit up and he hefted his rifle, following Conner out into the hall. They met up with the rest of the team in the living quarters. Aracles was at the edge of a door motioning the rest of them forward.

"Heard some type of radio feed on the other side of this door. Sounded spotty... like frequency."

Malesyn moved silently to the other side, Conner and the rest stacked up behind him. "Weapon's hot but keep your trigger fingers off. We don't know who or what we're dealing with yet."

Aracles waited for Malesyn's nod, then drew his hand toward the door. He turned the knob and pushed slowly opening it with his rifle raised as the rest of them began to fill the room...

[Meira]

Keep calm. Don't lose your head. Don't. Move.

Mo's heart was racing. Her thoughts were flying wildly around her head. They skipped back to the invasion, the bombs. Then the cave and the sad, defeated faces of the people she once knew. Then it was the arrow she'd shot through that Sith officer before they could string Dutch up until his legs didn't twitch anymore. Then Earl, her chest ached at the memory of his burial.

Stop it.

If she could have risked it, Mo might have slapped herself then and there. This was how people got dead. They lost their cool and panicked. She wasn't like that. She was Mo, head scout. She was a hunter, not some child. Not anymore. Setting her jaw tight, Mo forced herself to focus on the house. And it was a good thing she did.

Just then, she heard the sound of a door opening, faint in the night. Her eyes caught movement and she could see a figure in the doorway. She could see his blaster. That was all she needed. They'd heard her, were suspicious now. There was nothing for it but to run.

In a flash, Mo threw herself onto the bike and revved it to life. Within a blink, she shot from her hiding place and was putting distance between herself and that house. She chanced a glace over her shoulder to ensure she'd made a clean get away. Big mistake.

There was a sudden depression in the ground, and a short ridge in front of her. Unfamiliar as she was with the area, and the added disadvantage of it being night meant the inattentive Mo was suddenly flung into the air and then tumbling across the ground. The last thing she remembered was seeing a cartwheel of stars and grass before it all went dark.

[wrathchild]

Adrenaline.

It was a soldiers greatest ally, but like most advantages... a double edged sword. The last thing he remembered was the vibrating sound of the speeder bike's repulsors. And the sight of it breaking the horizon before the rider missed the ditch and took the tumble. He would've called it luck on their part. It could've been an Imperial for all they knew. The last thing Malesyn wanted to face was an entire platoon, let alone the whole division of the Empire's troops.

Aracles' was already knelt over the body of the person in question.

"Whatta' we got."

"Female." Aracles said simply. "No insignia's identifying her as the enemy. Just a blaster and some provisions. All home grown by the looks of it."

"Could be with the Dantooine Rebellion."

Malesyn looked at the young woman's face. She took a hard fall but he could already tell she was merely unconscious. At most she'd have suffered a concussion. "Grizz, get her patched up and bring back into the estate. Get her comfortable but bind her hands and feet. We don't know who's side she's on yet."

"What about the objective?" Ezparza said as he stood over the ridge keeping watch.

"We'll handle that when we're back in hiding. We're sitting ducks out here as it is. That speeder bike made some noise, so we'll have to keep both eyes open tonight."

"So much for stealth." Conner sighed.

As sore as he felt about the whole situation, Malesyn was hopeful that finding this particular person would shed some light on the situtation regarding the Imperials or the Liberation Army on Dantooine. Needless to say, he was hopeful for the latter. The sooner they had some friends to rely on. The better their situation becomes.

"Set her down on the couch." Malesyn ordered as he pushed through the door frame. He moved over to the counter table in the dining room and filled up a pan with water. He pulled a rag out of one the drawers and tossed it in before handing it over to Aracles. "Get her cleaned up. I'm going to investigate a little more in my father's office. Aracles, I may need you to hack through the firewalls on his computer, so you're with me."

"Got it, boss."

Grizz stood over Ezparza as he began cleaning off her face. "I'm surprised she's not in worse shape. She rolled quite a few yards when that speeder bike hit the dirt."

"Let's just hope what we're dealing with here turns out to be a friend..." Ezparza said as he ran the rag across her cheek...

"I'd hate to have to put one between her eyes."

[Meira]

Bare feet sent water splashing as the children ran across the brook. The drops caught the sunlight, sending rainbow flashes against the rocks and the mud. Shrill laughter broke through the air as the warm muck was scooped up and molded, then launched.

By the time Mo had returned home that day, the sun was setting and hardly an inch of her green skin could be seen beneath the mud, caked and dried all over her body. Her mother admonished her as she'd ordered the child to rinse under a hose outside their home near the quarry. Once most of the mud had been washed away, the girl had been allowed inside. Mo's mother had taken up a rag and finished the job more thoroughly, still chastising the girl as she wiped her face.

"When will you learn, Mohana?" she'd said. Mo tried to answer her, but her mouth wouldn't move right. As her mother spoke again, Mo's vision and hearing seemed to muffle and fade...

"...put one between her eyes."

Consciousness returned like lightning, and along with it came the realization of her circumstances. In an instant, Mo's eyes snapped open and her instincts had her clamping her teeth down hard on the hand that had been wiping the rag across her face. She put as much force into that bite as her jaw could manage, and then shook her head left and right for good measure.

At the same time, Mo attempted to stand. But with her hands and feet bound, along with a sudden vertigo, she only managed to fall from the couch onto the floor. She lost her grip on the hand as she landed, leaving her mouth free to issue a string of curses, at the floor, at the strangers around her, and at life in general. She kicked her bound legs back and forth, giving her the appearance of a fish flopping around on land, helpless and futile.

"Let me go, you cowards!" she demanded through the haze of her still foggy mind.